It's 8am and I'm rushing to the grind a little earlier than usual, but lately that's how it's been---such occurrences disrupt reality and one should be in the "isness" of such moments wherein the program of repetition has been unsettled ~~ommmmmmm~~
~ॐ~
It's funny how a piece of dung has the potential to ruin a morning and call you back to reality (perhaps a "reality check" was what was the holy mission of this jumble of smelly neutrons, protons, and electrons). In an instant, that small piece of turd jumbled all of my philosophies and theory of words into a hodge-podge of shit. Sorta like that army field ration beef stew, which is made out of chewy "caramel colored cooked beef" gum and peas and carrots and potatoes that turn into one mushy brown syrup. You cringe at the flavor yet need the victuals to keep you nourished. My thoughts must've been too airy this morning.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that it can be hazardous to philosophize when "shit hits the fan." It can be very difficult to ask someone to calm down when stress has got them feeling the effects of vertigo and the walls in their tunnel vision are painted red with rage. And to top it off, let's just say, they step on a piece of (metaphorical) shit...sometimes there aren't any schools of thought that can reason you back from the guttural instinct of simply shouting an expletive: "fuck."
This piece of shit was very real. And the stink of solid, moist matter digested from dog intestines was enough to make my day foul, even repulsive, evidenced through the fact that I said to myself that I must dislodge, detach...it's just shit, really.
And actually It's funny, as I stated above. It's all just shit and none of it matters yet matters at the same time. You can't completely dismiss all the shit as bull and chant a prayer/mantra and say "it's all good" and wait and wait and wait and "we must overcome;" after a while even Martin Luther King said enough (though my mentioning of MLK seems a bit random, the very randumbness of it reflects the effect of that piece of matter that distrupted my senses which has made it difficult to "stop and smell the roses," and the insertion of that "cheesy" cliché further illustrates my entropic decomposition).
I think MLK might've been saying that extreme polarities clash and neutralize each other and thereby reach a state of impasse, Stale-mate, though I'm not too sure that is true with the current state of affairs in Ferguson and Arizona and, doubtlessly, in other parts of the nation.
In any case, what I think I'm talking about is shit in the metaphorical, allegorical, and literal senses. Dealing with shit and telling it apart from the bull. I'm dealing with the "crisis of representation" here; how we interpret "social reality," yet I think I do not posses the savvy and skill to blend it all together and communicate it properly. I'm lacking the verbosity of the cultured aesthetics underLYING the...ahhhhhh~
I need to get this shit together. badum-kshh.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that it can be hazardous to philosophize when "shit hits the fan." It can be very difficult to ask someone to calm down when stress has got them feeling the effects of vertigo and the walls in their tunnel vision are painted red with rage. And to top it off, let's just say, they step on a piece of (metaphorical) shit...sometimes there aren't any schools of thought that can reason you back from the guttural instinct of simply shouting an expletive: "fuck."
This piece of shit was very real. And the stink of solid, moist matter digested from dog intestines was enough to make my day foul, even repulsive, evidenced through the fact that I said to myself that I must dislodge, detach...it's just shit, really.
And actually It's funny, as I stated above. It's all just shit and none of it matters yet matters at the same time. You can't completely dismiss all the shit as bull and chant a prayer/mantra and say "it's all good" and wait and wait and wait and "we must overcome;" after a while even Martin Luther King said enough (though my mentioning of MLK seems a bit random, the very randumbness of it reflects the effect of that piece of matter that distrupted my senses which has made it difficult to "stop and smell the roses," and the insertion of that "cheesy" cliché further illustrates my entropic decomposition).
“The conservatives who say, 'Let us not move so fast,' and the extremists who say, 'Let us go out and whip the world,' would tell you that they are as far apart as the poles. But there is a striking parallel: They accomplish nothing; for they do not reach the people who have a crying need to be free.” -MLK, Why We Can't Wait
I think MLK might've been saying that extreme polarities clash and neutralize each other and thereby reach a state of impasse, Stale-mate, though I'm not too sure that is true with the current state of affairs in Ferguson and Arizona and, doubtlessly, in other parts of the nation.
In any case, what I think I'm talking about is shit in the metaphorical, allegorical, and literal senses. Dealing with shit and telling it apart from the bull. I'm dealing with the "crisis of representation" here; how we interpret "social reality," yet I think I do not posses the savvy and skill to blend it all together and communicate it properly. I'm lacking the verbosity of the cultured aesthetics underLYING the...ahhhhhh~
I need to get this shit together. badum-kshh.
This is good shit! Love it.
ReplyDeleteYou question your skills with the very same skills you doubt having. Amusing ironies, legendary humility...
I think MLK meant that by either fearing human advancement or wanting to nuke it all without any consideration, it can't lead to an effective strategy that shows compassion for our ultimate desire to be free, yes.
But you're right, it's hard to look up and catch a star when you're dragging all this shit.
You can also look at the shit and say: it's food transformed, I've been wrongly conditioned to be disgusted by the things that are the most natural (blood, poop, etc). I must maintain an equanimous mind and observe things for what they are, withholding judgement, not being a victim of my reactions. This dog was able eat. We live in an abundant society, how lucky! He is better treated than millions of kids, crazy... The dog was free to walk where I walk too, like a democracy for a few select species, and the way we treat animals is telling of our ethics. He was able to properly expelled what he didn't need to fuel his forever forgiving and positive energy to further serve his best friend, who is maybe not that great after all if he couldn't pick it up. Mmm...Maybe he had to go? He probably had to go, because he started a raw vegan diet which contains a LOT of fibers, simply to save animals and prevent greenhouse gases, but now he's full of gases and he ruined your day in hopes to save humanity...
This...
Delete"I must maintain an equanimous mind and observe things for what they are, withholding judgement, not being a victim of my reactions."
Reminds me...
"He wrote academically, trained in the art of seeming objectivity. After countless years of writing in that vein, which the institutions demanded, he possessed a better, more intimate, ability to divorce his feelings from his writing at whim...."
(http://aztechnograph.blogspot.com/2014/01/hewrote-academically-trained-in-art-of.html)
Thanks for your reply. Glad you liked...this_shit!