Sunday, September 6, 2015

Keep Them Guessing

This is a genuine blog post. Sometimes it's hard to tell with me. 

I do things that are designed to sort of circle modern reality. I think it is all terribly funny sometimes, and terribly sad others. But circling it all keep me sane. 

I've always been fascinated by peripheral sub-cultures, ever since I sat in Dr. Christian's Linguistics and Anthropology class, or even earlier than that, as I felt myself isolated in the high school environment in which my mind flourished, but not within what my teachers or peers might have found to be an observable, to them, acceptable way. 

I don't like to be harsh against people. And institutions are definitely made up of people. But Hayden High was, at the time of my experience, not particularly conducive to learning. It did, however, help to place me in somewhat of a peripheral group of intelligent individuals, all of whom shared a somewhat disjointed connection through our common perception of our fellow students as somewhat lost in their superficiality. As I have aged, and seen some of these individuals not of our group grow into fine people, I realize, about many, we could simply not see through their defenses. But, also still, about many others, we were spot on. 

The isolation and lack of connection with the mainstream elements of our small community was, at least for me, excellent training at constructive introspection and long term coping mechanisms for dealing with the superficiality and cruelty of the larger world. 

Finding and holding beauty against the smothering encroachment of society is difficult. And training early on is definitely helpful for all social animals. We see, we experience, we learn. 

Psychologically and creatively the ability to zigzag and dodge the bullets of a rapid fire, take no prisoners, pop culture of consumption world, where the horde is strategically dumbed down for easy herding, is imperative to survival. And the goal of changing the world might forever be out of reach. So learning to map the paths of man and nature's peripheral worlds is paramount to that same task of living. We must run and swerve and hide forever. As soon as you become the ocean, your spirit will drown. 

Our bodies are being connected to the machine. Our nerves are already progressing with the interface of the future. There may be no escape from Hell, no rejection of fate. There might not be a single answer. But, as long as there is some central eating thing, there will be outliers. Success, to me, is not an efficient consumption of the soul into the Brahmin class or a mind numbing view of Manhattan. Nope. The strength to pump tiny wings as far out and away, to avoid predation just long enough to sing another song. That is life.       
          

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