RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,277
(faithful to the tee), pt. two
Sometimes I just wonder
what it took to get ahead
and how I missed that curve.
When I see ads now targeted
to children, proclaiming the
affirmatives and that 'you can
be all you dream to be,' stuff,
I know it already to be a huge
malignant fester on the huge
societal body-politic of the
lame world we've built. It's
almost Hasidic in its rigor.
Misplaced directions, and
the power to mis-direct, all
rolled into one. It's a world
that makes me ill. I wonder
how we got to all that.
-
In the previous chapter, I
made mention of how people
appeared pretty clearly as
aliens to me. I can watch
their acts and gestures and
facial movements and see
it all. Liquid. Pliable. Made
from other seed. With only the
bullfrog chorus of midnight
here to speak to, I am told I can
get away with most anything.
So I do. I go outside to scan
the stars and hear the noises
of night. Whatever I end up
hearing, whatever it may be,
I know that it is right. At a
self-checkout today, I was
buying some spray-paint and
the machine wouldn't allow me
to do so without age-approval
from a nearby clerk. Spray
paint? She laughed, and I said,
"So then, does this machine change
my age? Or just allow me to buy
the paint? She didn't get it at all,
but had the most telling alien
face on her. I knew I had, at
some level, made the cosmic
connection between two vast
systems so far apart.
-
It got me to thinking some
about how weirdly this world
changed and how I want nothing
of it any longer. I wield no hammer
in today's forging of whatever it
is that passes for the normative and
functional operation of the day to
day. Everything now is connected
to something else. That too is like
a Talmudic strain of the densest
over-study and concentration on
ridiculous interconnectedness, in
a world that is, in all other respects,
completely random and without
cause or reason. At the natural
level, the world is perfect - the
oak never becomes the maple, and
a robin will never mate with a
sparrow or a jay. Water takes
its varied stages, working at
every moment in its movement
from gas/vapor to liquid to solid,
and back. We pretend at not-knowing.
The mistakes we make are endless.
We call gasoline gas, when it is
in its liquid form? And endless
weave of misinformation and
bad-rumor drives us forward. The
world is a madhouse.
-
The only still center of everything
is within us, each, where we share
that alien substance that has brought
us forth and placed us here; albeit
temporarily and 'imaginatively' too,
as we impute rhymes and meanings
to a human-made drifting of snow,
which the stupidest among us then
takes up arms and destruction to
prove their errant side is more
correct than the other's errant side.
People die over this, and we then
applaud the killers, and we call
them victors if their carnage outlasts
that of the other. I repeat the world
is a madhouse. An alien spaceship
bubble afloat on an immaterial sea
of supposed matter. Once we agree
on that, the scientists then tell us
that nothing really exists, that solids
only appear to be solid, made up of
countless atoms and spaces, waves
of motion in transit, and that the
world that is explained and taught
to us does not exist at all, rather
being instead conclusions and
theories adopted by and enforced
by those who can gain from it.
-
Jewish cavalcade? African misnomer?
'Papal Bull'shit. Euro-conclusions of
nation states and concentration camps.
Fields of the dead, from Ypres to
Flanders, and blood-soaked soil
flavoring the grapes and wines of
the Beaujolais? If, on the other
hand, nothing actually does exist,
then what in the world am I
getting all worked-up about?
I have to ask myself.
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