kachasu

I was thinking of Marechera’s unhinged mind.   I don’t see any possibility of his writing becoming democratized, though.  I really meant what I once said, that he seems to put a lot of garden refuse into his concoction and ferment and distil the result.  The content of his writing is not going to appeal to the suburban mind.  I once told you that his writing is like kachasu.  What is kachasu?  A few steps down from bootleg liquor.  Ideally it is made from millet, but in actual fact, grass clippings rotten fruit and even (mythically perhaps?) body parts have ended up in this concoction.  It is allowed to ferment and then distilled.  It really does have a mythical reputation.  One guy told me that if you poured a drop of this stuff on a table and stood back, it was so potent it would move by itself.

I think kachasu is a real shamanic intoxicant, since shamanism itself seems to come from the rubbish heap, from psychological dross left over, which is somehow concocted into something new.

So nothing facile here.

It’s like this biblical principle taken to extremes:

 

The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner.

 

Also, do not forget that anything defined as refuse or rubbish immediately becomes exocentric, which means it gains a privileged perspective in terms of knowing.