yes, this trend of posts that plant, Fullery and myself have been making here on Lewd Cognoscenti has certainly taken something of a political bent as of late . . .
and
i,
as the finite jester
speak only for myself
in the following statement
i’ve been somewhat obsessed as of late
i could not even attempt
to count
the nights spent
dwelling on mortality
and (for lack of a better word that rhymes)
destiny
here and now
with this one life to live
and a complete absence of certainties
regarding what comes next
i keep ruminating on all these possibilities
which frighten(s) me
it’s terrible, because right here, what i have come to know as ‘poetics’ fundamentally fails to express (at least with the proper degree of certainty [hehe]) the double entendre buried in that notion of “a complete absence of certainties regarding what comes next”
and i have this more than mildly irritating notion that, to quote Charles Dickens . . .
This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.
Of course, a quote out of context can lead us anywhere, and originally Dickens was making certain his readers understood that one of his principle characters had “shuffled off this mortal coil” and yet been compelled to return for the edification of a man still living. Me, I’m chasing the tail of a phantom, trying to decide how it is that I can meet my final day (however and whenever such a time will occur) without remorse.
I guess the real trouble is that none of the goals which mother culture has done her best to indoctrinate me with seem all that appetizing; to me all of them reek of complacency.
i don’t want a big-screen tv
i don’t want a fancy car
i don’t want a house in the suburbs
i don’t want the majority of my life to be spent performing acts that perpetuate the status quo, because the status quo is repugnant to me, yet at the same time i have discovered that it is only by my willingness to perform these actions that i am able to maintain my current position on (while certainly not the lowest rung of privilege) one of the lower rungs available in american society
if this is the only life i will ever have . . .
(which for all intents and purposes,
in what we as humans have yet been able to ascertain,
this is the only one i know i’ll get)
i choose adventure over comfort
every last one of us is going to die,
at the end of my life i want to be able to say that i -
stood by my convictions
and
did the best i could to leave this world
(whatever this world may be)
better than it was before i came
i’ve got a million ideas on how to achieve that
but my favorite is the simple fact that what i really want
is to hear your ideas
Maybe we can call it the last vestige of hope, but I tend to think of this notion in fonder terms (should you follow that link, the Archaic definition cracks me up). Essentially, I believe that should somebody be able to get enough intelligent, committed people together . . . change can occur.
otherwise,
i honestly believe that we as a species are fucked,
and i can’t in good conscience let that happen . . .
but you know, it’s like i said . . .
i,
as the finite jester
speak only for myself
and i’ve been thinking way too much about mortality,
the places i see the world going,
and how to live out my dreams
but then again,
that’s just me,
and i hope that the rest of you
are at least happy.