“The world’s fastest growing emerging financial market . . .” Pardon my hilarity. Places that no one had heard of twenty or thirty years ago now have high powered marketing on all of the major networks, acting like they have something to be proud of besides prize falcons. What has happened?
I know what year it is, I’m not actually delusional, but when I watch TV I wonder, by what mechanism has everything that I thought that I knew gone irrevocably away?
From time to time I try to anchor myself by reading old journal entries. I don’t have the best memory, so it’s all new to me, déjà vu all over again. Here’s one I came across today:
September 6, 2007
What’s the disconnect here? Am I riding another self-piloted self-immolation here? Another emotional Kamikaze attack on myself?
Why am I even discussing any of this? To be, or not to be, that’s the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to undergo the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to sleep, to sleep perchance to dream. “Aye, there’s the rub,” said the great man.
But this is the Twenty First of the centuries of the great Augustus, another new age, an age that has conquered God and ripped fate from the grasp of chance, an age that has left irony far behind, an age that has slaughtered innocence in its bed, an ass-over-head world where knowing anything is considered stupid, an age of gum-clicking non-entities advertising their stupidity to an adoring world, a new, vomitous age, where honesty is un-ethical and poverty is a capitol crime.
Satan, that piker, managed for centuries to haunt the dreams of the pious, who flattered themselves to think that they possessed something that Satan wanted: a soul. Now the only thing of value in the world is money, and Satan was swept away with God in the same garbage pail and replaced by an army of Satans who suck, suck, suck anything of value out of the world and then view it privately for purposes of self-aggrandizement, touch it, lick it, lick the hoods of their collections of fine automobiles, talentlessly play Jimi’s strats, fondle the baseballs hit out of various stadia by the Babe, all in the privacy of their own vaults, like Scrooge McDuck, but without the jokes.
(The rest is way too frighteningly dark to recall with any comfort, so I’ll stop here. I wish that I had stopped reading. But it’s good to know, as though I could forget, that I didn’t just get depressed yesterday.)
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7 comments:
Fred:
I'm usually reluctant to comment publicy. My vocabulary is adequate.Grammar and the like is suspect. I tend to write as I speak, and as a result, I use a lot of double negatives, and general sentence sturcture errors. My style is more intuitive, than proper. In spite of these shortcomings, I felt compelled to reply to this post.
I suspect that your caring nature is what drives you "crazy." (Does the period go inside or outside the quote)? Or perhaps it is a result of a strict Catholic influence during one's formative years? I'm not trying to be analyitical here; just curious.
I go through long bouts of depression, and a sense of helplesness. My solution,(not helpful), is that I sleep and drink more than is "normal". This dulls the senses, and allows one to escape that constanst inner voice, and perception, that is always pointing out the injustice in everyday humankind.
I have always considered myself to be an optimist by nature. And yet, as time, age and "wisdom" has accumulated, reality tells me that the human condition is on the decline. I can't change it, and neither can you, my friend. But as long as I'm living and breathing, I'll continue to try and make a difference by being kinds to strangers and the less fortunate than I, and to take comfort in the closeness of family and friends.
I'll remain anonymous on this one.
The period inside the quote is correct.
It sounds like we live in the same neighborhood and deal with it in the same way. (Additionally, I find that it helps to fill one's mind with images and to avoid thinking in words.)
Good luck with that, and thank you for your kindness.
Thinking in images! I've always talked too much. I'll give it a try. Thanks for the tip, Fred.
When I lay down to sleep, rather than rehash the days events with dispair I imagine a large piston engine fighter plane, usually a P-47 Thunderbolt, firing up the engine, rolling up to the runway and taking off into the clouds. It's a noisy, powerful image, and it shuts me straight the fuck up.
During the day I try to keep my eyes filled up with wonder, quite easy here in Thailand.
Fred:
I hope this image thing doesn't lead to nightmares. I haven't been concious of the dream state in quite a while. I'm trusting you on this.
By the way: I meant to tell you that your mention of the "You Are Dumb" blog was a great choice. For political humor, may I suggest www.sadlyno.com? (I'll warn you: they do pick on right wingers alot)There is a curmudgeon out of the Mid West goes by the name of DogHouse Riley that I recommend, as well. doghouseriley.blogspot.com.
nanute
When I was a boy I was very bothered by nightmares. I learned to dream consciously, like, if I was being chased by some monstrous entity I would take charge, remind myself that it was a dream, my dream, and I'd provide myself with a motorcycle to get away. Or switch from being chased to just observing the monsters.
Now I've forgotten how to do all that. Now if I have a nightmare I'm just stuck with it. I have some beaut's too, some are quite disturbing. But I still enjoy them. At least I'm asleep, and no one is fucking with me.
At least I'm asleep and no one is fucking with me.That's what you think! I like the idea though.
Thanks for keeping the thread Fred.
I dont' know how to use the tags to put your quote in italics. I'm a bit of a luddite.
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