All’s Chile in the Windy City
The purpose of a blog is not something I ever fully understood; the act seemed masturbatory, a production of oneself for oneself. The direction blogs tend to take are those of old anthropological travel writings, that is they are an emphasis of difference, and establishment of paradigms and binaries. In discovering the heart of both “us” and “them” the blogger is able to re-conceptualize the world, to carve out a space for spiritual growth not at the blogger’s expense but of the subject matter:
I grew up and I learned from them
The entire world is simplified in the face of the tremendous rebirth. Fictionalized stories would do just as well ––perhaps their effect would be even grander, left to the imagination of the blogger surely the tropes would be reified and the revelations more spectacular (not to mention the adventures). But do these stories, fact or fiction, have to be at the expense of others? WIll these sacrifices always be a bad thing? And does the blogger need to come away unscathed?
Chile is a distant visage whose whispers are tucked away in the violent winds of Chicagoland, a warm memory on the horizon. I’ll wander the streets here now, for Valpo is not present.