So, I was just considering finishing a vlog and posting it. But, I realized it’s late and I have not been getting adequate rest. So, I asked myself: How good is this vlog going to be? Sure, I feel the creative juices surging RIGHT NOW but how much of that is fatigue induced illusion? I’ve already posted today and some distance and reflection would probably be a good idea…
Furthermore, don’t I know better? Haven’t I spent hours reading health blogs, books, and listening to podcasts about sleep?
Sure, there is that old writers trick of staying awake in order to slay inhibitions. But, as someone who also works a rather gruelling day job is that really wise?
And, finally I concluded. Hey, your goal is consistent content, consistent creative effort, and learning new things. That means you need to know when you have energy and when you have time. These things don’t very easily come to those who do things simply when inspiration strikes. Furthermore these things DEMAND sleep in order to be fully digested and utilized.
So, while there is the nagging desire to DO MORE RIGHT NOW to really MARATHON IT; there is also the sobering knowledge that doing more means you have to do it smarter.
I really don’t recall the exact progression but it did feature an old flame. Someone who is very often forgotten behind a veil of things that actually matter. She’s a tall girl of my own blood. That is she is Slavic though there is some unfortunate Anglo-Celtic admixture. You must excuse me. I’ve grown a touch xenophobic with all the naked hatred of my kin alive in your Western media.
The purpose of this post is of course the escapism of dreams. So I should perhaps stray from the wearying prosaicness of bigotry.
We were in some hall. Which was very reminiscent of some old rail stations I had frequented as a boy. There was some commotion among familiar faces and much in the way of banter.
I approached a figure in riding attire. And immediately recognized her gangly frame and large liquid eyes. The autumnal hair and vacant expression is unmistakable.
I approached with a smirk, “Why are you dressed like a dyke?”
Funny how the flavor of the waking world works itself into more permanent realms…
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.
Also Sprach Douchethustra
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.
The Crusaders
Isis
Uncle Joe From the Old Country (Stalin)
The Inquisition
Jim Jones
Kamikazes
Football Hooligans
Henry Kissinger
McNamara
Lucifer
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.
The Fractal Journal 