Love Is My Badge

well i told you that the light go up and down
notice how the wheel go round
and you better pick yourself up off the ground

before they pull the curtain down
yes before they pull the curtain down

Krzysztof Kieślowski synthesized the finest Western art of the previous 9000 years, and subsumed it into his Trois Couleurs trilogy: BleuBlancRouge.
These films are the apotheosis of cinema; of all of Western art. No one has even remotely approached this place. Kieslowski was as out front as William Blake.
To give you an indication of his power, Kieslowski’s 1988 feature A Short Film About Killing is credited with quickly ending the death penalty in the director’s native Poland.
Though that was not his intention. He was just making a film. Of what is.
He followed A Short Film About Killing with a film called A Short Film About Love. Which is credited with invigorating a flagging Shakti and Shiva.
Kieslowski was only 55, and was at work on another trilogy—inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy, to include HeavenHell, and Purgatory—when, in March of 1996, he went into a hospital. Where doctors killed him.
When the doctors killed Kieslowski, only the screenplay for Heaven was completed.
Six years after Kieslowksi’s death, Tom Twyker brought that script to the screen. And the film he made of it, it is sad. Because Twyker tried to do his best, but he could not. Kieslowski is there. In every frame. And so we can see, what he would have seen, and made. That Twyker could not.
Because some have it. But some have it more. And some have it, unto jewels.
But let’s talk about the end of Heaven. Where we have two star-crossed lovers. Who have reached, though the logic of the narrative, the inevitable life-erasing Wild Bunch/Thelma and Louise denouement.
Except Kieslowski wrote them boarding a helicopter. And then rising, straight up, into the sky.
Straight up, impossibly, they continue to rise.
To, literally, heaven.
They make it. Away. Into the great wide open.

Life, as they say, imitates art. And so that is what has happened to Malaysia Airlines flight MH370. Life. Art. That plane has flown straight up to heaven.

I told you that the machines are over.  That even as it appears they are uber-triumphant, their day is done.

We have over the past several months, here in the US of A, been in a panty-ripping scream-till-your-lips-bleed frenzy over knock-kneed Anglo-American units seeking to suck up every communication from one human being to another, here there and everywhere on this planet.

And in this they try, the Anglo-American units, and in this they are wrong, but in this they are Clouseaus.

For, according to the latest wisdom, flight MH370 flew through the spy-net of not only the US of A, but also of the Chinese, the Thais, the Vietnamese, the Indians, the Malaysians, the Indonesians. And who knows how many other Toms, Dicks, and Harrys. With none of these people, having the faintest clue, as to where do be de plane.

They think, the techno-people, they have all the planet covered. Not a damn thing can occur, anywhere, without them snuffling up an anal probe, telling them all and every.

Flight 370 is, to these people, a big middle finger. You, it says, don’t know shit. You don’t know where I go. Much less do you know something really important. Like where the time goes.

Meanwhile, one of the more recent newsy emissions has been that Flight 370 was flown hell and gone, for who knows what reason, to an “undisclosed location.” Where, it was darkly mumbled, the plane would be vouchsafed, until its New Masters determined what best mischief it might be flown into.

My first impulse was to snark and snort about Darth Cheney hijacking the plane, since it is well-known that the Darthster spent most of his vice-presidency in an “undisclosed location.”

But then I realized: it was me.

Because I live in an undisclosed location.

With an identity undisclosed.

And therefore, in my universe, it was my responsibility, to bring these people home.

And so: here they are. In my universe, Flight 360 landed in the field there across the street. Between the feed store, and the lube shop. It was kind of a tight fit, but the pilot made it. Spooked the crows, and scattered the squirrels, true, but in a few days those people will be alright.

Meanwhile, all the passengers, the crew, there on board, they are all alright. In my universe, they are all alright.

They will be phoning home soon.

I am feeding them. For those who need it, I am providing a place to sleep.

One man aboard, Zhang Jin Quan, is a calligrapher. Calligraphy: this has always fascinated me. He is showing me how it is done. He speaks only Chinese. I speak only English. But we understand each other perfectly.

For years I listened to Eric Clapton perform “Badge,” and I thought that at the climax of the tune, every time, that he, and his, joyously chanted: “love is my badge.”

Then, one day, I chanced to look upon the intertubes. And discovered, definitively, that, always, he and his were always but asking: “where is my badge?”


In my universe, Eric Clapton sings, all and every, and every time, “love is my badge.”

In my universe, all the people aboard Flight 360 are perfectly safe. They are here with me. They will come home to you. And soon.

They went up to heaven, true. Just like in Heaven. But then they came back down. To here. To where it is safe.

Reality is what we make of it.

And so, in reality, love is my badge. And the people of Flight 360 are okay. And I have arisen not from the dead. But from the living. And I am not a voice crying in the wilderness For there is no winter here. No dark. No despair. The lights are going on in my house. For there is no darkness anywhere. I have all my lights on. And it is my own face, I see in the blazing windows, of all the houses on earth.


4 Responses to “Love Is My Badge”

  1. 1 Miep March 17, 2014 at 1:20 am

    “Watching People” is such a lovely video. So odd that’s gotten so few views. I remember your posting it here before. Thanks so much for this.

    • 2 bluenred March 18, 2014 at 9:32 pm

      Yeah, I don’t get that either. That’s my all-time favorite YouTube video. All of why humans will surmount all and every and even themselves to sail into the great wide open: it’s in there.

  2. 4 Miep March 17, 2014 at 2:29 am

    Is that Nick Drake?

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