Nasty / Compulsive

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In a Friendster profile from some exciting looking stranger in (I think it was) France I read “I have a nasty habit of avoiding things that make me feel” and I thought it was rather elegant and wanted to write it down so I reached for my notebook and wrote “I have a compulsive habit of avoiding things that make me feel,” in less than a second misremembering the word ‘nasty’ as ‘compulsive,’ perhaps implying that I don’t find anything particularly nasty about it, or perhaps only stressing how (for me) all such endeavors are fundamentally obsessive.



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The Triage of Small Things

I had forgotten that I had said that modern life was like triage, that we deal with each thing in our lives on a strictly emergency basis, and things that seem less urgent are mercifully shuttled off to the sides. That we are all much too busy and this fact infects the very texture of our consciousness. I had forgotten because somehow, somewhere along the way, I slipped off the fact of all of that and sometimes it seems like I no longer spin. Who (of any substance) speaks of what is the good way to live? (All we get are tepid self-help books the sub-text of which always has something to do with how the individual can survive all the pain, damage and loneliness that capitalism unknowingly inflicts.) But of course we already know what the good way to live is (easier said than done): a life against the triage of small, daily things and towards giving meaning its due, against pushing things to the side and towards bringing that which is essential towards the centre of one’s heart. (But perhaps it is better to keep such thoughts to oneself.)

Happening Time

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Corporate oligarchy isn’t my idea of a happening time. An investment in our future is an investment in the enemy’s consolidation. Take the have’s and the have-not’s, toss them all in a big old blender, and let’s really mix things up. Passion belongs on the internet. A feeling of warmth on the cusp of the genitals is a feeling that must remain unredeemed. Back when communism was strong text fragments of advertising had a reason to be afraid and union bosses had greater leverage. We belong together, a together so black there is simply no denying its impotent potency. A momentary lapse in judgement reveals criminal intent where previously only claustrophobia prevailed. Reconsidering my previous precious position, corporate oligarchy might sometimes, or even occasionally, become my idea of a happening time. In particular, a focus on the living essence of the question raises questions as to what exactly such questions might actually mean. I don’t know if our collaboration has been a positive experience for you but, apart from the normal intensities of frustration that one finds in any successful collaboration, I would generally have to say that it’s been a positive experience for me. Conflict is the way we are invited to explore change. Perhaps too negative to be a ‘real’ activist. If current trends continue to intensify, my idea of a happening time will potentially have to change.

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