Let It Grow Organic Gardens

And I resumed the struggle. -Vladimir

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

The Legend of the Green Man

You'd be amazed how many people in the floral industry are homosexuals.
-Brian Racer
anti same-sex marriage activist
and pastor of The Open Door Bible Church
quoted in The New York Times
June 19, 2005

The discussion in the fields the other day centered upon the Green Man and his habit of re-occurring in various world cultures. I, as usual, was thoroughly befuddled by the subject matter at hand and allowed my interns to control the conversation.
It all started, as best as I can recall, when Intern #2 commented upon Intern #1's appearance, particularly the way that he favored The Green Man.
"He's really interesting," Intern #2 said. "One of my professors told me about him."
"The Green Man was a cool cat," Intern #1 said. "He's the woodsman. He's probably up there now, looking down on us. Hey! Green Man! Hey! How 'bout getting us some mead!"
"I read a book about mythology in my junior year," Intern #2 said. "The Green Man is found in archeological motifs through-out northern India."
"The Green Man's all over," Intern #1 said. "India. Africa. The cat got around. Everyone knew about the Green Man."
Interns #s 1 & 2 have a habit of having exactly the same conversation couched in completely different terms. Intern #2 is well-spoken and educated. His contributions to any conversation are always grammatically correct.
Intern #1 speaks more of a vernacular - a kind of rasta/rainbow/stoned-on-someone's-living-room-floor parlance.
Intern #2 footnotes his information by telling you which of his professors told him this or that.
Intern #1 thinks he heard it when he was driving with someone in West Virginia, or maybe he heard it from someone during a show in Philly.
Anyway, they're both equally knowledgeable about the Green Man.
They have similar goals, too.
Intern #2 wants to spend the summer on an organic farm because someday he'd like to have an environmental learning center, where people can learn about the natural world and their place in it. He would like to manage such a center one day, but he wants to first spend a summer here and then persue a relevant degree.
Intern #1 wants a farm so he can grow food for cool folks, and have a place where people can come to do their art work and drum.
I have trouble getting over the disconnectness I feel about the different ways they present themselves. Surely two people from such different background, who behave so differently, can have little in common. So says the top of my so-called brain.
Somewhere deeper in there I can see them for who they are, devoid of their external trappings. It's hard, and I can only do it when I'm not really trying. And that isn't often. I seem to have been conditioned to think with-in a set number of stereotypes. I'm trapped with-in them, and they dictate the way I label the world around me. I usually think that I am speaking the same language as everyone around me, the same superficial shorthand to describe all these things I already know. Everyone else, I conclude, is speaking in the same shorthand. The cliches explain everything to us, or they thoroughly elude us. Like the Green Man.

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