Sunday Morning Thoughts 8.12.12: Ode to Suckers and Their Hope

Another titled post? What say you? Yay or nay?

Well this, as all things seem to be, is not a democracy. Unless of course you’re the person writing this, which unless you are I, you are not. If you were I, then I would understand even further that the illusion of such a state is so nicely made that its guise is nearly invisible. I only believe in the control, for now. Whether it could actually ever be had is up to me, if such a thing is even possible.

I tend to spend my time having conversations with myself about purely hypothetical things. My summer as a bachelor hermit is drawing to a close however. The masses will begin to fall back into place and the machinery will begin to wind and grind and carry on. I will not really be taking place in all of that, while being directly in the center of it. This will also be the last summer of my school boy days.

Now I know you’re asking you’re asking yourself ‘Brian, what in the hell are you talking about?’

Excellent question! Although, the answer will only be a very short bit at the end of all of this, or so I imagine. Or really observe, in my particular brand of poorly imitated style and grace of minds of unbearable greatness.

Almost 60,000 fish died in Iowa yesterday because a river reached something like 97 degrees. I’m sure the smell festered in the hot, stagnant air. It smelt like death, I imagine.

An earthquake in Iran killed something like 300 hundred and shook up thousands more. I understand that was a terribly insensitive pun. I refuse to strike it from the record just the same.

A man in China had his penis stolen in the middle of the night. He said that he didn’t feel anything as the robbers cut it off.

It could be worse for me. I could be in Greece where unemployment for those of my generation, or nearly my generation, is at 54%. It was 41% last year.

Tunisa now has a goddamn anti-blasphemy law now. Christ, people are getting screwed like Mary Magdalene all over the place.

The price of bacon is expected to rise exponentially, as if life weren’t becoming bad enough.

Why list a few of the top stories that I found on the web? Well, I can give you a few reasons, although I can guarantee that almost none of them are true.

The first reason is perspective. Although I see and am aware of many of the terrible things that humans do to each other, I am fortunate enough be free from almost all of these woes. For now.

I was born a white male in the middle class of the US of A, which may have been the last true decade of that class of people. Not the white part, the middle part. I was raised sternly and god fearing, in addition to being expected to solve many of my own life’s quandaries in confidence that my parents would help me learn to do the impossible. I was taught to think for myself through methods of invoked performance and encouragement.

It was because of this ability to think for myself at a moderately young age, that I made it through my public schooling in what may have been the last age of fairly decent public education. I was in the school band, but they were always trying to cut the arts out as far as I can remember.

I made it relatively unnoticed through my early years, and then I started to get more frequent erections which can only lead to more madness in a young man. The fact that I didn’t get laid until 18 explains the development of any peculiar behavior. If I got laid sooner, I might not have been such a strange bird and then we might not be here. I also could have saved on the cost of tissues.

The second lie disguised as reason is hope. This of course, is possibly the grandest lie ever conceived. It is belief in the extremely unlikely based upon the farce understanding that the existence that is hoping for such a thing, is so fucking special that the whole universe consciously changes direction to fulfill a request. This, as you should already know, is horse shit.

I have spent a lot of time hoping for things to happen. I would sit and wait until that very near impossible event would occur, just because I felt that it had to. Sometimes things that I hope for do happen, but it’s just like being decent a gambling. You know how to estimate the likeliness of something occurring. It’s only a guess and I have been wrong. I’ve been waiting for years for something to happen and I will only continue to wait. Until I forget, which is still some time away but in the meantime, we’ll have another round garcon.

Hope is for suckers. So I’ve not been able to stop being at least partly a sucker, but I have taken a few things into my own hands. Soon there will be no time left to sit around and hope. My life of luxury is passing and my work will scream and call that I pay it all of my heart and soul. I will and maybe something great shall be done.

If there is one thing that I continue to hope for besides forgotten youthful feelings to be reborn, is that I and all others can be free. We are not. And if you think you are free, you are just dumb. We are all oppressed, almost all of the time. The proof of this is within yourselves and your lives. Are you going to rise everyday for the rest of your life to pursue and matter that interests you?

If you are like me, you can’t. You need money to get things and resources and time and status. Money is speech and the only key to freedom. The problem is, once you start to get enough to take control, you do just that. We are greedy because we are stupid. We are stupid, because a few well off people got greedy. Money is power, for now.

My hope and it is very much a fool’s hope, is that I can participate somehow in the creation of a truly free world. A world that grows and learns from and for each other and people live full and happy and meaningful lives. Every being will explore the depths of consciousness and become part of the whole.

This marks the end of the last summer of my life within educational institutions. I have learned much and yet nothing. I have learned that hope is for suckers and I hope and hope and hope just the same. I still hope for the same thing that I know is gone. That’s why I get up every morning. Not because I think today will be the day it comes to be, but for all the other things that I need to do while I’m waiting.


Sunday Morning Thoughts 8.5.12: Eulogy for a Student of Social Nothingness

So… is this the great work that will propel me into a life of word craft in the name of some grand illusion politely and arrogantly titled art? I doubt such an event, but this may signify something smaller and yet profound just the same. I will try to not make it terribly small as I don’t know if my ego can handle something that isn’t at least pretending to be fantastic. After all, I didn’t get laid this week, much like the many weeks before this one. This serenity I seek seems to be so far out of hand that it can hardly be seen.

That is what we are after, right? Peace and that whole deal is the ultimate goal for mankind, isn’t that so? When you start to muck around in it with ‘whys’ and ‘how comes’ you may find yourself understanding that such a thing as peace may have never been really known and that alone is the cause for its desire. You’ve never had it, so you have to have it. Silly beasts will rarely see that you can never really have anything.

I bought a newspaper today, strange I know. Iran says it had a successful missile test and the two Sudans have come to some sort of monetary agreement in regards to the oil pipeline that they so depend on. There was a man with no legs past his knees who ran in the Olympics and Syrian fighting is causing tension in Turkey based upon… That’s right, our good friend organized religion. There is a very stupid looking boy on the bottom part of the front cover who is spraying himself in the face with a water bottle. It is apparently quite warm in Wisconsin.

My favorite article was naturally located about eight pages in from the young and dull Wisconsinite. There must have been a mix up because they should have been switched by the standards of journalism specific to such a large publication.

A man in Pakistan has claimed that he can get a car to run on water, which paves a way to ending the energy crisis in his nation (and really the world). This would help to end the need for so much fighting and conquering that goes on happening including nearly all the killing that doesn’t have to do with gods and even some that do. I read on, skeptically of course, as every American should, only to find that such a discovery has been made in places like Japan and Sri Lanka. It was followed by a sentence stating the obvious, that these claims had largely been ignored.

Oh, and the United States, they had one of these claims according to the newspaper too. I looked it up and considering that these are usually low funded garage projects, the fact that they usually work should be nothing sort of expected. Man is the only real god, after all.

What is the point of bringing such a thing up? I don’t know all that much about any kind of science. I honestly don’t really know much about anything. I suppose it was to speak about something other than my boring old self. That boy is dying dead as we speak. He should be fine with it, since it was really a nice trip and was really his time. From the corpse, I’m expected to emerge as the all American man. I have personally taken on the boy’s burden of cultivating value back into the souls of all. It’s time, bury the boy. Bury the boy.

Trying to draw on inspiration that I had so many minutes ago may be too futile to even attempt. So I shan’t, and shall continue bouldering forward. As I look outside, I see a sun that is starting to break up all the moisture that billows in white all above my head. I occasionally hear a bird chirp or a siren howl over the jazz bass that resonates through my room. I see the tree outside of my window that I promised to spend the summer writing to. I haven’t really done that at all and with a week left in the last summer of a so far lifelong student of this vast social nothingness, I would feel cheap and sleazy trying to pander to her now. But with a little whiskey, when have I not been a little sleazy. Or is it charming? I can hardly tell the difference over all the pop music.

I asked my friend about me and my whiskey. She said it’s alright. I told her without my writing, I am but a hopeless bundle of too many thoughts about ghosts.

And yet, I have produced just a few works of poetry and music and a few ideas for a novel. I was told by a stranger to read more, and so I shall. He or she is right as the easiest thing for any writer to do is stop reading. So here goes. I’ll try to make this as painless as possible.

I stand, or sit rather, before you now to make some grand proclamation about nothing and you shouldn’t worry all that much about it. I have had a youth more full of thought than anything else, but the tastes of physical reality that would comply with any sort of daydream a boy in my predicament would have are still so grand that they very well be immortal. I have not had all that many kisses in my life, but I do have at least one, definitely two or three that will warm what soul I have left on my deathbed. I may very well have more, but I spoke with a friend about the future and we agreed the problem was that it’s like watching for a train that is coming from the other direction.

I will falter and wobble from such a strong stance many more times, but as with before it won’t be enough. Unfortunately, I have found myself to be a much more resilient creature than I would openly admit, out of vain modesty. I could stay on these daydreams and I always will. I have whiskey for dealing with the wonderful troubles of women, and writing and music for everything else. I won’t rest until my death. Naps don’t count though.