23 Sep

I confess, I have the divided self like everyone else. Every one out there currently oscillating between 10 and 60 clicks , daily. I’m fucked up, so are you: everybody is.


‘Tis true, I suspect. Methinks I could theorize a bit about our fucked-up selves like I know what I’m talking about, but no. Hell no! We’re fucked up, sure. It’s the price we had to pay. Sort it out. If I’m gettin’ all Gunny Hartman on you it’s ’cause I’m in the mood to issue commands to the only one with the obligation to obey them.

Actually, that’s bullshit. I’m in the mood to go live in a bark cabin for the rest of my life. Today, I feel a useless sack of protoplasm. Am I fit for command? Today I’d feel ashamed to ask someone to pay me three bucks to hall buckets of wet manure up a sheer cliff-face for a month. Things are going slow. Maybe I shoulda copped more senior drill instruction when I was a kid.

Mope, moan, whinge: bollocks!

There’s the body, the will, the sense of reality, the environment: the resources available. None of those things really exist the way the terms imply, separately There is no place where the will ends and the body begins. And thru the body the will can be bent and warped. One’s body is the primary evidence of willpower. And on all this everything was agreed and disagreed and long ago writ. Some days are shit, some glow, some go right by and some just go. Ain’t news. Not easy on the tightrope from ape to superhuman. But then, it wouldn’t be would it?

‘O brave new world that has such people in’t’? Is that how it is? Are there many goodly creatures hereabouts these days? Is ‘mankind beauteous’? Am I goodly and beauteous? Fine word beauteous? Does it mean anything anymore?

And also… when will I stop writing so many posts clustered with question marks?


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