kultureshock and beyond

Google the word 'doppleganger.'

you get:

A double, an identical replica of a person. The idea behind this is that everyone has a Doppleganger, an identical copy of themselves somewhere in the world. If the person is good, then the Doppleganger will be evil and vice versa. It is even said that if the two should meet, then they will both perish. Although there is no evidence that Dopplegangers exist, some people have actually reported claims of witnessing what they believe to be their Doppleganger. In all likelihood however, Dopplegangers are an aspect of myth only.

Maybe the idea that Minneapolis and St. Paul are indeed 'twin cities' is also an aspect of myth.

Let's be real, how can these two metroblobs be twins -- they don't look alike, are nowhere near the same size or population, have no features in common except that they were both built on the Mississippi River. Minneapolis sprawls over to the other bank anyway. Maybe there is a part of St. Paul in Minneapolis -- a place where Paulicans drink St. Pauli girl and reminisce about that Midwestern Zion across the big sea waters, you know, the old neighborhood, singing-'by the rivers of Babylon' in a slow Scandinavian wail.

Ez once saw his doppleganger crossing a park in Trenton, New Jersey. A gawky, oblong headed, pimply faced dude with size ten boatyards for feet. No shit. Those days are shrouded in myth too now so Ez is not even sure that this happened. Over the years, however, by a process of slow erosion or siltage, whichever, Ez has earned the right to think of himself as totally unique. He ain't nobody's twin. And this shit about the Twin Cities, well, it's Chamber of Commerce bullshit. We ain't talking Buda and Pest here.

There must have been a moment in Minnesota history when cognitive dissonance ruled the day. To be honest, is there ever a day when cognitive dissonance doesn't rule the day out here? That's probably explains why the Republican National Convention chose St. Paul for their quad-annual truthbashing, ain't it? Ez is from New Jersey where people 'tell it like it is.' None of this faux twin shit would have ever occurred in New Jersey. What self-respecting burg would ever claim Trenton or Camden as a twin? Wouldn't that be sort of like claiming that you look like Jeb Bush?




There are lots of myths kicking around out here in Minnesota. Like this Longfellow shit.

Now, according to Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (more on this much later-- nothing is free, nothing), Longfellow

" was born in Portland, Maine and studied at Bowdoin College. After spending time in Europe he became a professor at Bowdoin and, later, at Harvard College. His first major poetry collections were Voices of the Night (1839) and Ballads and Other Poems (1841). Longfellow retired from teaching in 1854 to focus on his writing, though he lived the remainder of his life in Cambridge, Massachusetts in a former headquarters of George Washington."

Now, and Ez poses this as an open question, at what point did Minnesoteans claim Longfellow, a known Easterner, a man who cavorted with other known Easterners all his life, William Dean Howells, Charles Eliot Norton, as sort of a patron saint? There isn't a day that goes by that Ez doesn't take the Hiawatha Line, or see place names like Nokomis, Minnehaha, or shit like that. Minnehaha???? We're getting closer..... noble savages, fantasy redmen, running around in old growth forests, now logged into matchsticks, and the original native population dereacinated, all but exterminate, the few that are left hanging out on the exit ramps of 35W, toting homeless signs----we smell cover up here. The first settlers to Minnehahaville killed off the forest, killed off the Noble Savage and substituted an.......advertising jingle. That it?

Or perhaps the connection has to do with the fact that Longfellow passed away with more pennies in the bank than almost any other American poet. Wikipedia, always a reliable source of information on stuff like this, cites that Henry's personal fortune at time of death was over $300K. Ole' Henry would definitely be living on the tony banks of Lake Calhoun with that kind of dough. And Minneapolitans, Minnesoteans all, for that matter, respect that kind of success. Anybody who can make big bucks cranking out lines like---

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water...

is a winner in the George Babbitt school of achievement.

Hell, they sell a lot of Gitche Gumee up there at the Mall of America.