Stalking Vol 2 The Bridge of Reason HTML version

"You interact differently with men, including the apparent maleness of representatives of
Intent, than you do with me, Saa-ra, and Caroline—with less respect."
"I really don’t think I do that, at least not consciously," I said as if this mattered.
"You hide it in culturally acceptable ways, but words are deeds and yours are loaded with
male attitude." She shifted the silver condiment container to one side, a symbolic gesture
suggesting there was nothing standing in the way of her making a point, or me seeing it.
"We’ve discussed the concepts of momentum and continuity enough for you to know that
you can’t logically think in one way and act in another." She cocked her head in a fait accompli
gesture: the effects of momentum and continuity were no longer issues to me, not because I
could read or dissect them well, but because my otherwise fucked-up world of random violence
made more sense under their auspices.
"What words give me away?" I asked her quietly.
"You know full-well that it’s not just about you, but if we are going to create another shared
assumption…" she shrugged.
"Go ahead."
"Most women in everyday circumstances use gentler words, such as ‘nonsensical’, whereas
you would say ‘crap’, as if judging things gently with a club. You have been scared shitless, but
never frightened to the core; you have been fucked over, but not betrayed; shit happens did not
convey the hollowness of sudden destitution when all that you owned burned to the ground."
"I’m a bit more graphic than women," I shrugged.
"Your shallow, clipped, and callous judgments of specific events extend to other
circumstances whether you mean them to or not. You know you can’t help but maintain the
continuity—no one can—because the very nature of our perception, and so our sanity, is based
on maintaining apparent continuity. The unintended consequence of that momentum takes you to
the manifestation of those intentions while you’re focused elsewhere, and then you’re surprised
at what you created."
"What was the clue I gave away at the door?"
"I don’t…"
She raised her hand, and said, "Figure it out."
After a short moment, I said, "That I am a chauvinist or superior in general?"
"Both are excellent starts." Bonnie shifted in her seat, a sign that she was constructing a
more comprehensive point.
I took a slow breath in anticipation of it being my last calm one for a while.
"The momentum of a nation made fearful enough to expend enormous resources in
preparation for war focuses on all of the possible scenarios that could blossom into one. This
makes war inevitable because you get what you focus on, which justifies the preparations. You
can see how that continuity feeds on itself?"
"In the same way, constantly having to guard your own secrets from yourself means you
will always find something to threaten them. If the threat is something basic, like someone
wanting to get to know the real you, you increase your vigilance because your deepest secret is
self- loathing. This creates the need for additional subterfuge to protect yourself from what you
feel lurking in the shadows of your unrealized fears, but you can’t define what’s there because
you never had to. You always ran away, or went to war with them."
"War with who—whom?"