Prolegomenon. I love this picture. Love it.Look at it. Carefully.
The great upheaval. Paybacks are a bitch. What goes around comes around. Karma. Revenge. Justice. Kismet. Fate. I now, what scheiße. I’d love to think that somewhere in the cosmic slumgullion, there’s something that approximates justice. Where the bad guys get theirs in the end. Like I said, I want to believe that. I truly do. I wish there was the God dude, perched on a cloud and meting out justice to those who’ve been insufferable pricks. Because I actually believe — notwithstanding the fact that I believe in virtually nothing paranormal or mystical — there is a reference level of good. Not exemplary, not Mother Teresa good, but just good. Good as in not bad.
I laud the protestors of #OWS. An the Occupy movement in general. I admire their fortitude and perseverance and no matter how the intellectually sprained laughed at what they saw as a specious cause, they carried on undaunted and unaffected. That’s the American spirit. And that inspiration and energy for good will be (dare I say) blessed. I know, I know. This sounds pollyannaish. But I can think of worse things to be.
Now, the subject matter herein.
- My plan to inoculate kids with the truth as to sexual predation.
- The audacity of Facebook and Pollyanna worldviews.
- The habanero 350K SHU and the day after.
- Mindless acceptance of the God myth and knee-jerk rejection of the UFO.
- Life after death and hopey-wishy feel good stuff.
- Eames, art and independent film.
I receive such lovely email from viewers and followers, viz. this gem. May I suggest reading this in a Village coffee shop as you don a beret and snap your fingers to the music of Sun Ra? [No grammatical or spelling corrections have been made. Keeping it real.]
I’m a freelance surrealist, and your right in this day in age we need to tame the wild beast whether its here nor there, people aren’t fools anymore, and the (feel good) is gone, and the let downs are many in real terms we can be magical, and inspiring over thousands of generations I mean its 2011 in New York City its cute in all with all the protesting,(thought about that reality when I was also in my twenty’s) and ever bad movie is in 3D and music and art has hit and all time low, because (I think) we lost what the definition of what a pioneer is (not a guy who made a social network, nor a guy who created a 2g, 3g, 4g phone, nor a young canadian pop singer or lady of gaga singer, and countless other diverse let downs mixed in with reality shows, and the list goes on), but something certifiably home grown, set in stone, and I’m not going near politics or fascist (I mean fashion) So what the hell happen to our underground our are direction, were our greats, under rugs? what do you think?
Welcome to my world.
Memory Lane. November 26, 2010. Last year. And nothing changes.