From: "Kenneth Wolman" <[log in to unmask]>
> At 01:57 PM 12/19/2003, Arne wrote:
> >Now, the Frenchman (Olivier Pierre) has just
> >died at age 50 in Paris, France. I learned this from a friend who
notified
> >me of a news item in The Stage last week. Strange to mourn someone after
all
> >these years. I last time saw him in 1999 in London and he seemed very
very
> >seriously ill by that time already, and I do believe that the cause of
death
> >might easily be called alcoholism. My friend thinks he may have committed
> >suicide, but I bet the cause was simply alcoholism. A sad loss, none the
> >less. I only wish I could write an elegy for him, that big hulk of an
actor,
> >whose snores I shall never forget, larger than life and larger than
anything
> >else worth measuring.
> >
> >That begging question remains, Is it worth the effort at all to be
offended
> >by anything?
>
> Mark was emphatic at the ease of offense; Anny less so. The circumstances
> of Olivier's life and early death themselves offend me, deeply and
> personally. Olivier could be me, or I could have been him. The disease
> offends me: but is it worth it to be offended? That is, does it have any
> value or worth?
>
> It is perfectly possible for an alcoholic or other addict to judge himself
> (or herself) a hopeless case, beyond redemption, and to end the agony.
The
> saying is "The pain [of being as one is] becomes worse than the fear." A
> friend stepped on the electrified 3rd rail in the subway: miraculously he
> did not die. Another friend intended to drive his car into the rear of a
> tractor-trailer on the Jersey Turnpike. The truck exited before he could
> speed up; and my friend got to work and sought help instead.
>
> I'm not answering the question. Is it worth it to be offended? I don't
> know. But it may not matter whether or not it is worth it because offense
> happens anyway and all you can do is recognize it but not let it eat you
> alive. Arni's story of his friend offended me not because of Arni or
even
> his friend but because of the awfulness of the story itself, the truncated
> and broken life that could just as easily have been mine and still could
> be. In other words, it makes me slightly afraid. Maybe an elegy is a
> channel for the grief and loss. I am still looking for words for a few of
> my own dead like one of my friends from the Sixties who died drunk in the
> streets of Woodstock, NY two or three years ago.
>
> Ken
Thank you Kenneth,
you have mitigated my words, which were not meant for Arni whatsoever, but
were following one of my personal thoughts.
Maybe I was not clear enough,
I simply continued with the fact of being offended at large, when it happens
and why it takes place.
As a stubborn child, offence happens quite often with me, and it has been
one of my recurrent states. I have reached the conclusion that sometimes it
is appropriate, since it momentarily hides or reveals to your eyes,
something which other people do not want you to know. But you anyhow
register an inappropriate act _through offence_ and if you dig it, you come
out with a bunch of things, worth or worthless. Thus offence as a spy, both
indicator of others' misacts or of your own. A tough little knot.
And again, when it is your (my) fault, it becomes even heavier to digest.
A good day to all, anny
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