Filed under: the lost children of the bokonists
This has nothing to do with anything, and so I will proudly dwell on some incongruous happenings of late. Nothing like catharsis, is there? On some gut level, underneath the constant mimicry with the what have you, it is a reward just to consider the magical nature of temporary illumination. Laugh with me, because this is all gonna go back to opening principle a few sentences behind us. This has nothing to do with anything, and anything that means anything requires you to respect me in the morning. There is so much wrong with that statement, thank fucking christ and the vicar that this has nothing to do with anything.
Aside from the slow recovery of perspective after that whole alices’ restaurant massacre, it’s the fucking pincers to the balls brought on by stupidity that create most of the problem. Now, coming from someone who mistakenly thought that he lit his hair on fire while smoking a cigarette, that could come off as a cruel review of recent events. At the same time, what’s done is done; and that has everything to do with everything. Enlightenment may not be a possibility these days. These are the times that try our desires. To defend something so anamorphic as symbolic desire for non-symbolic reasons would be abnormal, except everyone is doing it, so maybe it’s normal. If only there were four more detectives to assign to this mystery.
So, spasms and artichokes aside, and meta-commentary notwithstanding, peace reigns in the kingdoms of fools and errant folk. Sustaining such a fierce appetite for irony is no easy task, something that mixes strange behavior and mitigating circumstances into something of a compromise position favoring the image of something held in a forced orbit by forces impossibly complex and impossible to acknowledge. Depending on the degree to which any individual is able to commit to some thought-system, there are worse fates. Like they say, choose life. At any rate, it’s better than the alternative. Just you wait, the value appreciates geometrically, and dividends are paid out in factors and facets. Lemme clarify this…. Imagine for a minute your life is a parachute held by millions of hands pulling with a wide variety of force. Take that as far as you need to.
Past the idyll moments, which, to remind everyone, is what the rest of this is about, there is the navigation from existential reality to transcendental mediations to bowling is a wonderful experience. There aren’t any cameras or memory aids, but eating cranberries seems to help. I mitigate the failures to succeed in aspects and contexts with a generous ability to laugh at myself. Some kind of generosity and idealism mixed with forgiveness and humor. Reactions are for entertainment purposes only, disclaimers and such, grain of salt. Liability issues being what they are these days, why take the risk?
So, that’s what I have right now. The actors playing supporting roles are good. Not great. Too much pathos at times, but we’ve all been there. Does shared experience really ameliorate guilt and shame? Everything is everything, and what we say is what goes. Who in the world ever thought that a cheap talisman and grave traditions was a match for the intricacies of tiny movements and incoherent rationale. They’re all raving lunatics, including us, and the only pleasure greater than the sound of an authoritative voice is the audience it attracts. Plates, blades, money optional. Dress is existence casual. Lunch served at varying times, dinner at eight on the nose. I went ahead and excivated a few plots of land amongst the locals. Some pollution is acceptable. Isn’t it?
