Being a travel weary waeguken ambling down a garbage-ridden alleyway in Asia. Along my side the street rat found two months ago now resembling a dog after being fed, loved, and domesticated.
With a head read far into romantic notions I set out on foot into the hills behind the monotonous living towers and age addled tin roofs. Through the alleyways was the preferred route, where you can find, at this hour, families cleaning their plates and taking out trash.
I whispered self-administered prayers and thought thoughts of which I hoped to remember. Up there the small mountain waited in darkness, surrounded by the small city of Jinju, singing the cricket saw songs and beating a twig snap drum.
Upon the paved path, past the pagoda with giant Turtle and Lion sculptures I found a new way; A farmer’s path that I never tried even in daylight, but now, with darkness securing the people into their homes the Farmer’s path was safe and seductive.
For the first time I let my street dog off it’s leash and whispered, “I trust you” into its curious ear. He led the way and dragged behind, being best sentient through his snout, and followed me by little birdcalls and a rattle of a bell. I coaxed him up the farmer’s path, which he did not trust. I lowered myself and invited him into the wooded darkness.
Up the path there opened a series of routes. I took any old one that seemed just as good and unknown as the others. All I wanted was a clearing to stop and sit at. Only minutes of hunching under pines that fingered and pinched my back I found just a spot.
Sitting consciously practicing unconsciousness, remaining thoughtful. Of the friend who left, of the forlorn sky that needed to be without city, of the peace of mind that came with the wind.
Of the friend who left, after first meeting at a bull fight, telling me of detailed travel plans, another year out into the wonderland of beating it, and just a month ago, at his going away party in an old shared apartment merry with beer and bitter-sweet, after twisting his knee in the beach sands of the Boryeong Mud Festival, he hobbled about the party telling me of returning to Canada to get surgery and to settle down. “It’s time to get myself better, settle down, get a job and a wife.” Said He. And those were the saddest words I’ve heard him say, he was practicing optimism, and sincerely looking forward to home. The beer helped and I agreed that he should get the surgery and fix his body. It seemed a white flag was waved behind his shoulders by uttering the words “settle down.” It was, I thought sad, but he seemed happy so who was I and what do I know?
Another character entered my mind; all his ramblings, philosophies, humor and pretentiousness. Sitting at a street table drinking beer amid a country town carnival he commented on the old men who sold corn on the cob and other trinkets from their junk carts. Effortlessly they scowled without reason. They looked mean and distrustful. He mused; “You spend your entire life frowning, you grow old, the wrinkles wrap your face and cast you into sadness. The bitter years take you hostage. Suppose the same thing happens if you smile all your life. You die with a smile on your face, and your still a hostage.” I guess the point, if there ever was one, was to keep changing direction, as was the ways of people you met far from home, but he never said anything else about it, and was already talking about his superiority over his parent’s logic of thought.
I was thinking too much so I stopped. I repeated to myself “good dog...good dog.” In order to quell my most prevalent distraction, which was the loose dog somewhere near by, “I trust you” I convinced my self and wandered into my mind, muttering “good dog.”
I found a trance method in making little city lights disappear behind thin branches of the nearby brush. I found one red one, that I knew was a transmission tower on the mountain across the river. I steadied my head and tried to make it disappear for as long as possible. Focusing on my breathing and the wind I was quite successful; there was no red light, only the conifer branch and my thoughts. My thoughts didn’t even exist, only my eyes were open to the branches that now hardly existed as they once did, as they transformed in the void. And finally the thinking stopped.
After all this, I noticed that my dog had quite disappeared as well. I stood up, whistled and hooted his two-syllable identity. Nothing. Ten minutes of this and I grew quite panicked.
“Good Dog, My Ass.” I thought. I perched at each corner of the area calling his name and whistling, but only the crickets and leaves, and one distant dog barking, But not his, and way too far off. I traversed off the farmer’s path and back onto the main walk. I followed it further up the mountain continuing my calls and worrying. I could hear the sadness and anger in my girlfriends voice, “How could you trust a street dog?” when I thought about returning home with the empty leash. Already, quite faithless and pitiful I started making plans for life without the dog that we had briefly loved, realizing that being a tramp was it’s fortune.
Not another five minutes up into the darkness I saw his small black figure peeing under a tree and waddling towards me all tongue and smiles. I almost fell to the ground before him as the weight suddenly lifted away. So quickly had all of our fates changed, I was lightheaded with joy. “Good Dog, Good Dog!”
Ali Al-Marri is the only person on the American mainland known to be held as an enemy combatant. The government contended, in a declaration from the defense intelligence official, Jeffrey N. Rapp, that Mr. Marri was a Qaeda sleeper agent sent to the United States to commit mass murder and disrupt the banking system.
Mr. Marri was arrested on Dec. 12, 2001, in Peoria, Ill., where he was living with his family and studying computer science. He was charged with credit-card fraud and lying to federal agents, and was on the verge of a trial on those charges when he was moved to military detention in 2003.
“This decision means the president can pick up any person in the country — citizen or legal resident — and lock them up for years without the most basic safeguard in the Constitution, the right to a criminal trial,” said Jonathan L. Hafetz, a lawyer for Mr. Marri.
Mr. Marri’s unusual situation played a role, said Robert M. Chesney, a law professor atWake Forest University. Mr. Marri “was lawfully present in the U.S. and then arrested and held here, as opposed to being a noncitizen captured in a foreign land,” Professor Chesney said. “This consideration makes his case more difficult even in the eyes of relatively conservative jurists.”
“This does not mean that al Marri, or similarly situated American citizens, would have to be freed,” Judge Motz wrote. “Like others accused of terrorist activity in this country they could be tried on criminal charges and, if convicted, punished severely."
In the conclusion of his long opinion, Judge Wilkinson said terrorism cases presented courts with special challenges.
“We may never know,” he said, “whether we have struck the proper balance between liberty and security, because we do not know every action the executive is taking and we do not know every threat global terror networks have in store.”
The dentist offices of Dr. Diamond and Dr. Shaw, located in an affluent area of suburban New York are clean and cold. The inner corridors beyond the reception smells of rubber gloves and sanitizer. Behind the counter the receptionist paints her nails and sips coffee. Only her hands, brushing each other delicately can be seen from the low frosted glass panel. The office is such that you have to bend down and talk to the space between the glass and the counter upon entering. Once seated, the patients listen to the assistants with two-year degrees taking standing calls from behind the foggy glass. They shuffle the numerous magazines, getting up for another or trading some. Golf Today, Beautiful Skin, Washington Dump, East Hamptons Travel, Time for Kids. They were all scattered on the little end tables next to big fake plants. The philosophy was too keep a broad spectrum of magazine subscriptions and a working coffee maker in the waiting area at all times, and they would come. The location helped of course.
The names Dr. Diamond and Dr. Shaw are plastered outside on the third floor of the office building. The building is white stone with black mirrored windows. The sign is highly visible from the Starbucks and the main stretch of downtown traffic . The suburban New York hamlet boasts some of the priciest real estate the country has to offer. The neighborhoods date back to the 1800s. Contemporary but historical. Near the train. Circled with SUVs. An entire immigrant population sustained on lawn care, house upkeep, and surrogate parenthood.
Susan Clancy was new to the neighborhood. She was single with a job as a Nurse Practitioner and renting a decent little apartment above a vitamin and supplements shop. Without insurance yet, or a trip to the dentist in years Susan booked an appointment with Dr. Diamond on the advice of her friend; Mary Goldstien, who has been helping her adjust. Your gonna love him Mary explained as a matter of fact.
So Mary waited and read 3 articles from Beautiful Skin before she was called into the labyrinth of halls and examination rooms. "Dr. Diamond will be with you in a moment" the assistant informed her after setting her up in the chair.
Dr. Diamond ushered himself in, made a brief introduction and a bad joke. He spent another moment bragging about someone he knew that "maybe you know too?" He showered her friend Mary Goldstien with adornment. "Such a delight that woman, if there was anyone that...you know would...Well...It would be her." He explained. "Ok lets get started!" He clapped his hands.
"My my, Miss Clancy you have the sweetest eyes. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"Not in a long time, Dr. Diamond." Susan squirmed in the reclined dentists chair, blinded by the monstrous light that hung over her face.
"Do I make you uncomfortable Miss Clancy?" Dr. Diamond spoke softly through his surgeons mask, delicately preparing a small table with various gleaming instruments.
"No, no Dr. Diamond, Its just very cold in here." Susan bit her lip.
Dr. Diamond put on latex gloves. The smell of the gloves sickened Susan. She always hated the Dentist. He picked up the scraping utensil and the mirror.
"Some people say I make them uncomfortable. My partner complains that it's bad for business. Open up, let's have a look."
Dr. Diamond made small noises once he got to look inside Susan's mouth. She even thought she heard him whisper 'yes, yes' very faintly behind his mask. Susan was sure that she hated him. She wondered how her friend Mary could ever recommend him.
"Caa uu turr ouu uh ahh?"
"Im sorry, what was that Susan?" Dr. Diamond took the utensils out of her mouth.
"I said could you turn down the air? It really is freezing in here."
"Oh look at that, you have goose-bumbs." Dr. Diamond smiled behind his mask, pinching his eyes. "Are you sure it isn't me?"
"I think it's cold is all."
"Yes, it is. I like it that way. I'm sorry, I'll be right back." He winked at her and left the room.
Susan watched Dr. Diamond slip around the corner into the hall. She sighed in disgust, "Fucking Mary," she thought. Susan felt the cold air blast die down and felt a little better. She started to remember playing Yahtzee with her mother as a child when the doctor returned.
"Hows that?" Dr. Diamond exclaimed, shutting the door behind him. He was holding a cylinder tank with an oxygen mask attached to it.
"What the is that!?" Susan asked, frightened.
"Oh this is just some good old laughing gas, want some? Dr. Diamond was cheerful, like he just walked in with a six-pack.
"No, I don't. Can we finish up here? This is just a check up." Susan stopped being cordial. This was the last time she was coming here.
Dr. Diamond smiled again. "I'm sorry, Susan. Susan? You're going to have to put this mask on.
"Excuse me! I will not."
Dr. Diamond maneuvered himself in front of Susan and grabbed her wrist. "There was a slight fracture in one of your molars, and I'm going to have to put you under, so you don't feel any pain."
"Get your hands..."
"Ssshhhh, just breathe it in Susan." Dr. Diamond had the muzzle around her mouth and turned the valve on the tank three times. The tank began hissing, Susan's eyes became distant. The last thing she saw was the fading smile of Dr. Diamond.
