When nothing is sure, everything is possible.
"Elegance is not only what you wear; it’s how you wear it. Who you are inside. It is the way you decorate your house, what you surround yourself with, what books your read, what your interests are.”
- Carolina Herrera
After the Iranian leader, Ayatollah Khomeini stated Salman Rushdie’s novel The Satanic Verses, blasphemed Islam, Rushdie was forced into hiding for fear of his life. Khomeini offered a reward to whoever succeeded in killing the novelist. While in hiding, Rushdie wrote At the Auction of the Ruby Slippers.
We revere the ruby slippers because we believe they can make us invulnerable to witches (and there are so many sorcerers pursuing us nowadays); because of their power of reverse metamorphosis, their affirmation of a lost state of normalcy in which we have almost ceased to believe and to which the slippers promise us we can return; and because they shine like the footwear of the gods.
‘Home’ has become such a scattered, damaged, various concept in our present travails. There is so much to yearn for. There are so few rainbows any more. How hard can we expect even a pair of magic shoes to work? They promised to take us home, but are metaphors of homeliness comprehensible to them, are abstractions permissible? Are they literalists, or will they permit us to redefine the blessed word?
I have no mercy or compassion in me for a society that will crush people, and then penalize them for not being able to stand under the weight.