Our entire journey in life is to make this weird animal work for us, or if it's too repulsive, to tame it.
I'm curious about the theory, a theory I don't completely buy myself, that it's how we deal with that ugliness that defines a character. In real life human drives are completely different. The best of us are driven by love -- we seek meaning outside of ourself. Before we discover love we are driven by self interest. It doesn't have to be destructive,
Anyway, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, I'm going to try to write one thing a day here in an imitation of how Ta Nehisi Coates became a better writer.
I am going to go home and make a big fart good bye
I am writing this hours later. I did go home. And I will have you know. I made a wonderful fart.
My one interaction with Ta-Nehisi Coates was on Twitter. Upon announcing that he is set to be writing Marvel's latest Black Panther series, the great writer took questions. I asked him what the villain Hatch-22, a Jack Kirby alien created for a bizarre Black Panther series, to which Ta-Nehisi Coates answered to the ridiculous picture of the tiny mutant--
Absolutely stayed with me, and stayed with me to this day. It's the perfect dry and funny response to someone wielding an absolutely stupid query to a man whose mind is focused non stop on the rot in the country. Bless thee Coates.
The ugly part of me is absolutely screaming at this points. This is too public a forum to mention what they are, although I may explore it down the line. For now this is just an attempt to practice my writing. It is an attempt to flee from Twitter's didactic dicthomy. Where you try to assert your individual humanity to mass indifference or mass lecturing annoyance with people claiming this is where you develop your voice.
It's a waste of time, but it's an easy one. And there the creature gets fed and fed and fed. We deal with the creature by grinning, pushing Nazis out of sight (and thus from our minds), and then holding its hand as we babble as if we've been caught in what we think is a crime but is really just someone caught us shitting our pants and we think we can talk our way out of it.
To continue on there is to continue shitting our exemplary pants.
I will write material on here. Some of it I am sure will be useful down the line, while much of it will exist. I have no idea what the end result of this will be (this may be the only entry produced on here, or it may be the first of dozens).
I will do so every morning before my tedious work day where I write entries about Logan Paul's latest desecration of a corpse. Is it cruel that he is allowed to spend his days doing what he wants and I must put aside my time to chronicle it? Maybe.
I guess I didn't r tase enough rats. My counter stands at a shameful zero.
In any case, please enjoy this blog. Hopefully it becomes something a human being can enjoy and I can go back some day and delete this entry for not being the kind of thing that embarrasses the New Yorker for not publishing me. Right now this one? Eh, it's fine.
In the spirit of my love of LiveJournal, here is my currently listening/reading:
Currently Reading: We Were Eight Years In Power By Ta-Nehisi Coates
Currently Playing: Mega Man X Legacy
Currently Listening To: Cute Playlists Made By My Girlfriend
Currently Drinking: A repulsive awful iced coffee from some wealthy den of hipster gentry (coffee shop?)
Last Movie Seen: Christ, "Don't Worry He Won't Get Far On Foot" wrecked me. Who would dare make me watch such a thing.
And Finally--
Hospital Food Ranked:
Breakfast Burrito
Baked Salmon
Mixed Vegetables
Potatoes
Clam Chowder
Cold Roast Beef Sandwich
Thai Noodles With Mushrooms and Tofu (Ranked at Bottom Because I Was Eating It Absolutely Terrified)
I will probably expand this list into a longer post. I hope you enjoy this. I'll throw in the big water bottle too.
To the Big Water Bottle. To the skeletons of social media platforms that aren't infested by Nazis and righteous scolds, and to the future. May it be pleasant and warm.
