March 21, 2013 by vinylburns
Genting Report – Collective Madness
If you’ve ever been to prison, you’ll have experienced psychological redistribution syndrome.
The reallocation of time and attention from your usual, day to day interests and activities, to a collection of newly discovered, or often invented interests and activities.
For example the time you might normally spend kissing your husband, or your children’s husband… Is suddenly substituted with kissing other things… Whatever you find most easily obtained in your prison.
For my uncle Clutch, he found himself locked away from his daily activities (such as grooming his horses or shouting at his horses…) and instead, learned to knit, use a needle as a weapon, and kiss like a girl. He was a good man… and a terrible woman.
As I finish my time here at the Genting Highlands VIP Casino Resort Hotel Themepark & Incarceration Facility, I have begun to diarize my own syndromic redistributionary manifestations.
As I compare my real world patterns and rituals, with what I will call my “Genting Cycle“… Here is what I find.
Real World: Coffee and Croissants on the deck at 10am, while I watch the horses, still wet from bathing.
Genting Cycle: Scotch at sunrise, after a sleepless night of throwing coins and coat-hangers out of the hotel’s 23rd floor window in an attempt to jam the giant noisy grinding machine where they dispose of the reckless gamblers, and hoping the sun, somehow, doesn’t rise.
Real World: Giving my assistant the day off, and doing my own laundry, gangsta style, in the bathtub… Cos I wanna.
Genting Cycle: Bitching to the barista for 90 minutes, about which three clothing items I should choose to be properly laundered, and then wondering which corner of the hotel room is less damp, for drying everything else.
Real World: Taking a weekly walk down to the “Coffee Vine Club” to spend a luxurious 45 minutes selecting the beans for the week.
Genting Cycle: Painstakingly accumulating the daily rations of instant coffee, tea, pretend milk and plastic sticks, just in case there’s an apocolypse or infestation.
So, you see the power of relocation and desperation has almost supernaturally sculpted us into monsters of our surroundings.
It might not be right. It might not be you. But it might just be the now that’s right for the you that’s here.
So own your baggage… Even if it’s a kilogram of pens heavier than it was when you showed up.