Belated Deathiversery for R.A.W. [Rant In Angry Sharp]
Recently, it seems as if I am becoming more and more influenced by the creations and simple inspiration of the dearly departed Robert Anton Wilson. What else could a young man like myself want other than the pure exploration of your deepest mental crevices? Certainly, at least in my case, it is that young men like us crave the joy found in simple tomfoolery, lewd behavior, and downright inappropriateness. To deny me that amount of rebellion would be akin to depriving me of food altogether, in eternium. We may live in a rigid society and yes there are many very intelligent men who are seeking to either expand or entirely shatter the glass case of predetermined destiny. People break the mold of the norm every day. What else would one expect from a world with a rapidly growing population, despite the fact that our OWN GOD DAMN PLANET, as it is, cannot even fairly sustain the population we already possess. White flight, growing class and racial disparity, record high levels of unemployment in the nation, governments gone to quarrel, pouting and postulation. Some days it seems like the entire fucking planet is revolting against our very presence cohabitating it’s burgeoningly disgusting surface.
But for all my alleged (by my peers and by myself) aptitude in judging my own awareness that I possess in the realm of our planets increasingly poor health, I cannot justly believe that there is a solution for this ecologial problem, which we should have seen headed our way for decades. Jesus Christ people, middle schoolers do these kind of fucking twisted-yet-juvenile experiments for their god-damn SCIENCE FAIR. It’s done, kaput, toast, beat, cashed, whatever you want to call it as it is no longer functioning properly. There goes the science fair, am I right? If I haven’t been clear so far, I will set that right with these few words: “FUCK GOING GREEN.” That’s right, you god damn better heard me. Not only am I at some level a walking paradox as I believe in global warming but not in the devising of some inane failure of a science experiement, leading to ultimate morale failure, but I am also, as you can see, as
opinionated as any motherfucker could be on that particular subject. I will not go green, cocksuckers, because I believe in ACTUAL global warming. Just by HOLDING YOURSELF THE FUCK BACK from the blatant factual evidence that we are all well and truly fucked in the end does not mean that you are an exemption from this tragic, unavoidable future. Your “Random Acts of Kindness”, will be either ignored or quickly forgotten. Your Daihatsu SmartCar will not save the fucking ozone layer by it’s own little self. It’s not the Little Fucking Car That Could, you pretentious assholes. Then again, I think I can safely assume that the green fad is more or less here to stay, and that it will increasingly dominate our lives (a dedication I find pointless, as I once again must state that THE DAMAGE IS ALREADY DONE). I guess this is where I burn my now useless, rotting, old Bible and start busking for some soulful good times and
(pft) lucrative (pft) rewards. That would really show all you sons-a-bitches, wouldn’t it? I see how the squares look at the loonies. I guess I can see it going on because I’m caught somewhere in between. It’s like those squares feel bad or are directing some misguided attempt at sympathy towards the so-called “poor and needy”. Such sentimentality is pointless in the face of our home planet’s total annhilation by the very sources of life that sustain it. And once again, if you are in denial and refuse to accept the empirically proven facts that global warming will not magically get any “better” anytime soon, get over yourself and your “Hybrid, Shade-grown, Organic” bullshit.
That leads to another point. What is commonly accepted as Factual, as it may seem these days, is nothing but sugar-soaked, wishy-washy, highly-diluted pieces of shit that’s gotten all nice and cozy inside of a glass cage of what will ultimately become fucking devastating lies. Looking at the ecological sitation as objectively as possible, it’s clear to see that the majority of humanity is living in a culturally crippled cesspool of biological waste, plain old human filth and other equally unpleasant chemical-based excretions. Our lives have halted due to economic, political and cultural bureaucratic redundancies, hold-ups and simple laziness. It is important to note that there is a cultural impasse which we must penetrate in order to fully experience the freedom of being “off-grid”. For example, culture is an umbrella term, and underneath that sizable umbrella is a cornucopia of different sub-cultures and their contingent friendships and rivalries, individual to individual, mano a mano. But ultimately, gung-ho attitude to the side, it all channels down to each individuals inherent strength of spirit, their passion for their unique, makeshift lifestyle. Everyone has holes in thier story, I’ve learned, so every story is kind of like a puzzle of some sort waiting to be solved. But the common theme to every story ever told is this; to someone this will have a meaning that is simultaneously alien, bizzare and potently accurate to their own situation(s). Thus we start back at the bottom of the funnel again, as this is, obviously, how friends are made. But this is where my wrench gets thrown into the gears. On a single dimension from which things are viewed superficially, everything went smoothly. Two people are united in the bond of empathy, sympathy and reciprocity. But on a different dimension of thought, one common to people’s everyday lives but which often goes unnoticed, it was murder in the first to any potential healthy, sustainable relationship.
Although it is indeed a somewhat confusing assessment of a situation in which both parties were beneficiaries, but I stand by the implication that it is true. A relationship should never reach that deadly point where you “complete each other”. That’s dangerous, bound for failure, a ticking bomb in the final seconds of a countdown. Think of it as such: every person is born with an inherent emptiness inside of them. This is no genetics, but simple human psychology. People have a void in their lives from day one, and are distracted from it sufficiently until they reach an age of maturity, both physically and mentally, where they can handle the arduous task of restoring that gaping hole in their heart. But a completely symbiotic relationship with another person, where all burdens are shared, is, again, an inevitable failure. One man’s burden is one man’s burden, no more and no less. There can be no “sharing of pain” as pain is as internal as thought. Pain, as a matter of fact, is thought. It is simple reaction, nerves sending electrical Warning Signs to the brain, whereupon the basic autonomic functions of the brain/mind are, in a sense, put into High Overdrive. Mind, brain and body are three-in-one, in my reckoning. They’re a package, can’t have one without the other two. Thus, the pain we all feel at one time or another is real, just as real as any scar, burn, gouge or puncture.
But, I’m afraid I may have strayed from the topic. In a state like the one I am in, you need to just let it flow endlessly, seamlessly into a tapestry of exquisitely inspired prose-poetry. Alas, after all the book-learning has taught me, it still hasn’t taught me how to focus. And that right there is the bulk of the problem!
As I am able to tie my original thesis with the point I am currently touching upon, I will elaborate. I’ve always been a cautious, anxious, but always adventurous young man. I hike, I kayak, and I am by no means scrawny. I enjoy change, I embrace it as a welcome guest, which passes soon when a sense of normality sets in. This sense of normality causes, in my own case, a great existentially resounding dread. I don’t, will ne’er want and ne’er will be part of the flock. At one point I suddenly became aware of my place within the social standing of my world at the time, a revelation that has an impact on my life to this day. As a black sheep, I was given a lot of time to my own thoughts. I came up with the grandest stories and concepts my undeveloped yet creative mind. The spiraling resplendant towers of my imagination had never soared higher. I created armies and pitted them against each other, each soldier laying waste to his enemies, castles high as the eye could see, that stretched from below the earth to the highest reaches of Heaven, maps of far away places, foreign, exotic lands where there are stories told of the brutal subjugation of the so-called “inferior” form of man, songs of my imaginary characters, each to a different tune, each telling a wildy, unpredictably different story, scientifically organized methodologies of magic, summoning, Elder Gods that watched over the very cosmos itself, conceptual evil, it’s implications and it’s polarities (thus discovering conceptual good), soaring dragons breathing blasts of fire, and comedic, jolly forest creatures. I lived in that world in those days. My imagination was too much, even for me, at a certain point. Nonetheless, if there were divine intervention, I would pray for those blessed Third-Eye-Open moments to be visited upon myself every day, as now I know how to properly how to use those God-given abilities.
Oh Robert Anton Wilson. You would be both pleased and mildly bored with my entire argument. There are not many men like that left in the world these days, watching everything through freer eyes than mine. They had separated from the mind-body-oneness, becoming full-fledged, nigh untouchable beings of pure mind-body dualism. When you learn to detach that spirit, that subjective voice, from your bodily impulses, then you are truly a man whose wisdom cannot be touched by time or memory. It is the eternal absurd.
Oh Robert Anton Wilson, would you see me as one of you? What would your words be? It is not for me to speculate upon, but I’d like to think I’m doing alright for myself. After all, I wrote this whole damn thing, did I not? Well, if you’ll excuse me now, I’d like to at least take a break from the public library screen. I am but a man, after all that jibber-jabber about eternity and vast, incomprehensible subjects. But yes, think of me as you will, a loonie, a square or something that’s a little bit of both. Maybe I got the right balance. Maybe that’s what all this nonsense was getting at.
With you all on the American Hajj,
Ignatius
10 months ago