Saturday January 14th 2012 Tim
Trial by frozen pipe is
always to be expected at this time of the year. I would like to think of
it as an existential matter and as such an opportunity to become soothed
by the nature of being. But when it happens something else takes over. A
mind becomes intoxicated by "perhaps if I had a blow torch," and
it wriggles around in the attic feeling for cold spots while it
considers the origin of miracles.
I could try to understand it as a
consequence of being caught poaching. I could see myself in the court room
asking who the jury might be. Among the faces I could see
representatives from the insulation industry and conglomerates that own
hardware stores. And I could wonder if there might ever be a time when
I could reckon upon a fair trial.