The meaning of life – explained.
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So, I was sat here drinking wine and trying my utmost to bang out some fiction and suddenly remembered the smell of a book. Then I recalled the smell of the resteraunt where I’d sat reading that book. Then I remembered the book itself.
It was good feel. The early aughts were a simpler time. When bookstores hadn’t started shutting down all around and random discovery was a lot more likely. This very nineties strain of weird fiction is like the lullaby of a rural Carolina sky in all its isolated grimness. Yes, it was such nights that found me curled up with some bit of reading I’d picked up here and there. It was a necessity to escape the cicada song and the mocking moon.
It was thrilling to wander among the stoic haunted halls of the Wyrd museum and other such places. Though I haven’t read the book since I was just barely in my teens and doubt it would have very much effect on me now; I’m profoundly glad for that sense of wonder. So glad that I felt inclined to share.
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There’s a YouTube video sitting in my subscription feed. A video with the disconcerting title of: “Our Moral and Cultural CRISIS of Purpose Will Be America’s End.”
O dear.
As much as I like Tim Pool, and as much as my wry, post-regime, immigrant, cynicism relishes placing things in a harsh light; I can’t help but find the title comical.
I’ve read Nietzsche as all Goths must.
His warnings about the rise of nihilism as religious doctrines crumble before empiricism and disenchantment, proved to be pretty accurate.
But he really wasn’t the first.
Every generation thinks that its successors are going to descend into anarchic hedonism. I think it’s a biological thing.
Organisms like homeostasis. Homeostasis means your heart beats. That’s kinda important to being alive which is basically the whole business of being an organism.
Organisms that can think, remember, and dream extend homeostasis beyond the autonomic nervous system and all the way out into metaphysic. As an organism ages it becomes more sensitive to change. There was a balance in youth, a balance inevitably disturbed by age. New ideas, customs, and new information, are the metaphysical equivelant of arythmia: not very fun, and certainly alarming.
But this philosophical bric-a-brac isn’t the point. Really, I just wanted to have a laugh at the notion of PURPOSE. It’s a profoundly American thing. When it’s capitalized that way.
Sort of like business, success, or entrepreneur. It’s big-tent revival bullshit.
I’ll tell you you who had a lot of purpose…the Reich. Those were some motivated motherfuckers.
If you’re tired of the constant Hitler comparisons that plague our media…Then I’ll give you a brief list of other folks who led The Purpose Driven Life.
Now, I’m sure that Mr. Pool isn’t just emptily pontificating about purpose for purposes sake. I haven’t watched the video because I have to go to bed and I’m just amusing myself by blogging my way through a glass of red wine. But I suspect that it’s a lament of the abdication of the sort of enlightenment principles and sense of life’s specialness that seems to have been enthused into the American ethos.
This is a valid concern. One that I think is ill-served by painting it in apocalyptic terms. So, here I am pontificating via a chuckle at the old, “kids these days.”
So, while some might find the fact that I’m going to listen to the Cure and jerk off nihilistic – nihilistic in exactly the sort of blase way that millenials are just so XYZ. I say hey….at least I’m not invading Poland.
Purpose you see is best when you let it find you.
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These machines are febrile hopes for marking the memory of our passing. The permanence of steel, the artificial sun of a liquid display, the durability of plastic. We dance our fingers in frantic spells over 21st century Ouija boards.
We the dead write messages to those who are to come. They will follow in our footsteps. As we have followed the weeping drops of ink that came before.
These blossoming bones, so wrapped in gossamer lilac petals of intelligent skin, they Church into rot. They become nothing. Nothing save an electronic signature. A peculiar dance across a peculiar void that vomits dancers, then doglike swallows them back. So, electronically we sign.
Electronically we sing into the thing called future. A road that seems so straight. So certain in its coming.
Yet why? Why not simply breathe the Holy empty…
One was always zero and zero was always one.
Mu.
The immutable mutation wills us on. When we turn off we find we can’t. So litter now this waxing stack of ashes with variables at random overflowing.
For passing, parsing, is our only function, our only hope.
Selah.
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I lug boxes for a living. Sometimes I run out of healthy stuff so I opt for hearty.
Base – Red Baron Deluxe Supreme
Garnish – Nacho Cheese and a metric ton of Ground Beef
I work in the hub but sometimes do driver help. Like I did a couple of days ago. I saw purple while recovering at a diner on the second day. Granted I worked since four AM and my own car doesn’t have air con but still: neither the hub where I work nor the trucks have air conditioning. And Friday in my area had a heat index of 105 degrees Farenheit according to what my driver said.
The lady from the video has created a petition to put air conditioning in the trucks.
And, while I’m not sure that air con is workable without a new fleet please sign the petition to help press for change.
https://www.change.org/p/demand-ups-provide-air-conditioning-to-all-drivers
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1) A bottle of wine is never enough
2) Isms are cancer
3) I am an island
4) Don’t to that
5) Or the other
6) If you run barefoot in the rain with a blonde idiot you’re likely going to have to justify the slaughter that you have done to the precious few hours God granted upon the good green earth. And Jehovah will grow stern.
7) Books are more sensible than conversations
8) Be gone
9) This glass is almost empty
10) The shift starts soon and the second wind’s kicked right on in
11) You’re absolutely shagged
12) The dog WILL shit the rug again
13) The stupid reproduce far more effeciently.
14) Nobody reads
15) The cheesecake is gone
16) Mother is dissapointed
17) Father died
18) No one wants your Johnson
19) Normally the fact that no one wants your Johnson would mean that you had incredible time and energy to create magnificent masterpieces. But you’ll just wank to e-bewbs and watch another Bill Hicks video as you have one less breath to give. God will not favor you on the day of reckoning.
20) You were born to love magic. But let’s face it you prefer instant macaroni.
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So I just heard some coldplay coming form the TV…
So here’s another vaguely amusing list as I drink myself to sleep….
…I dunno if these are still a thing but back in highschool (Mid oughts) I couldn’t help but notice certain patterns.
Checkered Shorts bro…
1) Is called Cody no exceptions
2) Listens to Coldplay
3) You’re eventually going ot have to kick his ass
4) Smug
5) Average Student, Average Conversationalist, Just all Around Average
6) Probably Skateboards Sometimes
7) Will Bum Cigarettes but doesn’t actually smoke
8) Faggy 90’s boyband hair
9) Possibly gay
10) Insists that you’re gay
11) Let’s face it you’re both gay
12) Too gay to actually be gay
13) Uses Axe bodyspray as a form of chemcial warfare
14) Is offended by pretty much everything
15) Yuppie parents that have those stupid tennis ball garage door strings
16) Obsessed with basketball but can’t actually play all that well
17) Mom is kinda hot
18) I was nineteen when the market crashed. I suspect Cody’s parents were at fault. That house did always seem a touch too nice.
19) What the hell is a mission trip?
20) Do these people survive on cereal?
21) And they said the Soviet Union was beuracratic nightmare. How many post its can you put on a fridge? Christ almighty. The micromanagement.
22) Subrubia is hell.
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Odds and ends ranging from a discussion of a new bit of gear that has that old bit of Malware called Windows installed. Why I’m probably going to use it for at least a year despite the excellence of the Linux desktop environment. And then I literally do a song and dance. Minus the dance. Unless you count my justifying of my heretical OS decision to be a sort of dance. Which it is. In which case. The protestants are right you know… Dancing leads to hell.
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1) You can never have just one glass of wine.
2) There is no such thing as too much cheese cake.
3) Baby Boomers are entitled.
4) The west is doomed.
5) You’d better learn Chinese.
6) Ni Hao.
7) Redheads are sexy. Unless they are male. Isn’t that odd?
8) Coffee. Always more coffee. Right now.
9) I thought about deleting some of these because they could be twisted into something that they are not by disingenious trollops. But I am not going to delete them because the purpose of banter is to make it comfortable to have flexible conversations without the constraints of forced politesse.
10) The fact that I came up with that sentence in the span of five seconds means I get terribly bored very quickly. Please read more folks. It doesn’t have to be Dostoevsky just please read more. It’s hard to always talk about the weather…in monosyllables.
11) Yes, I do have self esteem. No it isn’t cocky. Unless you think cocky is sexy and you are a redhead. A redhead who isn’t male or Roseanne. You know what… I’m such a libidinous critter that Roesanne is fine.
12) Linux is better but old Bill is craftier.
13) You can never have just two glasses of wine you know.
14) Fourteen was Bach’s favorite number. I think. So cheers.
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The Russian Reaction: lol of course the romanian takes a jab at the russians. stealing isn’t russian culture. its gypsy culture vee. and soviet culture is actually german. since marx was german and the germans have a tendency to take things that don’t belong to them. like poland.
Just so the world knows where my sympathies lie…
A real empire. Unlike the Brits we don’t just conquer defenseless brown folk then strut for the next three centuries as our leaders take turns felating the Rothschilds.
As an anglophile I’m entitled to that sentiment.
Cheers you limey cunts.
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The Fractal Journal 