As I was running out the door last night for more Bal-tastic preparations, my roommate continued watching an Argentinian film, Burnt Money. The particular scene depicted a man telling a story I already knew from my father many, many years ago about African monkey traps. I'm going somewhere with this. To catch monkeys, they cut holes in sturdy boxes that are secured with rope and put bananas in them. When the monkey comes to get the banana, the hole is only large enough for them to slide the hand in, but too small for their fists and banana. The monkey wants the free banana so badly that it can't let go and eventually is captured by the tribesmen.

What bananas are we holding onto? I know I've been holding onto one and my hand is sore from clenching my fist onto it for so long. I barely can even let myself look up to the trees to see all the others above me for want of the one in the box below me. In Madonna's Future Lovers she says, "Put away your past, Love will never last, If you're holding on, To a dream that's gone." And you can't very well ignore what Madonna says. Oh and here's the video from that tour just because it's so fantastic.




Also due to my roommate, the WhoreMouse, I've started to converge with the idea that the universe has a way of sending us messages that we need to hear. For this same message to continue to find it's way to me in all media, I think it's time I start to take the its hint. Don't hold me to it. I think we all have a way of remembering the banana in the box, but at some point you have to either get caught or let another monkey put their hand in. Maybe theirs is small enough to get it out?


Over and Out,
CampusQueer