Sunday, November 28, 2004
The Vancouver Experiments
~
(THIS IS A WORK LEFT UNPOLISHED. WELL, ONLY ONCE. READ AT YOUR OWN DETERIORATING RISK.)
It was an odd evening, an odd afternoon and most assuredly a peculiar morning. A sensor whose door wouldn't open and who saw me counted my non-presence -- which is now sitting in a database awaiting analysis. The keyboard keys to which feel very spongy. A keyboard sold to me by a homeless man also known to be peddling drugs. Straight-out asked me directly. Seemingly, I didn't have change cause I'm like that. But I went to Subway and bought some water -- not wanting to be soberingly obvious and ask for two tens at half past midnight on a Sunday at Smithe and Granville.
(McDonalds will read this and wonder why I didn't go to their restaurant (to buy water, not wanting to be soberingly obvious and ask for two tens at half past midnight on a Sunday at Smithe and Granville) which was across from Subway. But that's o.k. because that location's aesthetic and advertising overhaul will be one of the most significant marketing case studies of the century).
Yes, and while teenagers are now supermodels, the true homeless are more and more explicit in their cardbox messages. Today I also realized that gas stations should not float. (In all circumstances, nothing should blur a view of calm, reflective water or the sublime backdrop of Nature's tectonic results).
Choosing my next read is in the semi-finals now. Vonnegut vs. Hesse. And it's shaping up to be the fight of their careers. Vonnegut's record is at three wins with only one loss; Hesse stands at 1-0. Either way, I it only occured to me today that I never read non-fiction. I wonder sometimes about human levels of escapism because we do it so many different ways: games, information, work, drugs, music, non-fiction, religion, fiction, television... There are others, but these come to mind.
And the worrying part is that fiction has become possesed with non-fiction with no exorcism pencilled in. For example, I caught a cartoon show on TV in which the 30-minute theme was adultery. Isn't there enough to see in our own lives? Why are we stockpiling misery? Archeologists of the future will not laud, but laugh at what they exhume.
They'll read our books and watch the old reels of news, asking themselves "how could these savages have lived, unable to understand schizophrenics or poets?". They will marvel at how caffeine worked harder than ever to surpass alcohol as the socially-accepted drug du jour. In related news, they'll discover that that not so long ago, even water made a good run for the top. Mired, its success dwindled thanks to marketers and business-owners alike realizing that a beverage with a soundtrack and Italian nomenclature was far sexier that average bottled Chicago tap.
(On a personal note, I am happy to see the exponential strides that conscious hip hop has made since the dawn of my young acquaintanceship with it. Delivering intelligence and articulation to the global hive-collective is one of the hardest undertakings and true keys to the past that sociologists will ever have the pleasure of unearthing. Of course, pleasures of similar height will not have been reached until we breach the periphery of the five-hundred year radius.
As I've echoed so many times: it is an incredible time to be alive. But I'd like to know how to help out more. This generation is incomparably the most gifted and as pan-mobile as this civilization has ever seen. Those younger than us are becoming more and more capable while we early to mid-aged are waxing adept dealing both with the robust youth and the greying demographic above us. Because of this, I wonder if we will see our own aging differently or reflect on our youths and accept these more readily?
One thing is for still sure though: the majority of people in these two groups -- the strengthening youth and the weakening demographic above us -- don't know what bukkake is.
Maybe that's an extreme example, but maybe we've reached the level of extreme examples. Or maybe they don't need to know, but what they do is this: before literature was first recognized as the literature we know today, it was condemned for being the written rantings of lunatics and the imbalanced. As a result, these protoscribes were eliminated physically from their tribes or primitive societies. Yes, and how horrible it was! Don't worry though; this barbarism ended years ago. In fact, it stopped exactly only one day prior to modern civilization declaring literacy.
As for today in history, there will be an infinite number of things that will happen around us, of which we will have zero knowledge. Nor will we seek it out.
And if you think that's bad, look at your watch.
Then remember the last time you were told to not look directly at the sun.
S*
2004.11.29 01:02-03:48
(THIS IS A WORK LEFT UNPOLISHED. WELL, ONLY ONCE. READ AT YOUR OWN DETERIORATING RISK.)
It was an odd evening, an odd afternoon and most assuredly a peculiar morning. A sensor whose door wouldn't open and who saw me counted my non-presence -- which is now sitting in a database awaiting analysis. The keyboard keys to which feel very spongy. A keyboard sold to me by a homeless man also known to be peddling drugs. Straight-out asked me directly. Seemingly, I didn't have change cause I'm like that. But I went to Subway and bought some water -- not wanting to be soberingly obvious and ask for two tens at half past midnight on a Sunday at Smithe and Granville.
(McDonalds will read this and wonder why I didn't go to their restaurant (to buy water, not wanting to be soberingly obvious and ask for two tens at half past midnight on a Sunday at Smithe and Granville) which was across from Subway. But that's o.k. because that location's aesthetic and advertising overhaul will be one of the most significant marketing case studies of the century).
Yes, and while teenagers are now supermodels, the true homeless are more and more explicit in their cardbox messages. Today I also realized that gas stations should not float. (In all circumstances, nothing should blur a view of calm, reflective water or the sublime backdrop of Nature's tectonic results).
Choosing my next read is in the semi-finals now. Vonnegut vs. Hesse. And it's shaping up to be the fight of their careers. Vonnegut's record is at three wins with only one loss; Hesse stands at 1-0. Either way, I it only occured to me today that I never read non-fiction. I wonder sometimes about human levels of escapism because we do it so many different ways: games, information, work, drugs, music, non-fiction, religion, fiction, television... There are others, but these come to mind.
And the worrying part is that fiction has become possesed with non-fiction with no exorcism pencilled in. For example, I caught a cartoon show on TV in which the 30-minute theme was adultery. Isn't there enough to see in our own lives? Why are we stockpiling misery? Archeologists of the future will not laud, but laugh at what they exhume.
They'll read our books and watch the old reels of news, asking themselves "how could these savages have lived, unable to understand schizophrenics or poets?". They will marvel at how caffeine worked harder than ever to surpass alcohol as the socially-accepted drug du jour. In related news, they'll discover that that not so long ago, even water made a good run for the top. Mired, its success dwindled thanks to marketers and business-owners alike realizing that a beverage with a soundtrack and Italian nomenclature was far sexier that average bottled Chicago tap.
(On a personal note, I am happy to see the exponential strides that conscious hip hop has made since the dawn of my young acquaintanceship with it. Delivering intelligence and articulation to the global hive-collective is one of the hardest undertakings and true keys to the past that sociologists will ever have the pleasure of unearthing. Of course, pleasures of similar height will not have been reached until we breach the periphery of the five-hundred year radius.
As I've echoed so many times: it is an incredible time to be alive. But I'd like to know how to help out more. This generation is incomparably the most gifted and as pan-mobile as this civilization has ever seen. Those younger than us are becoming more and more capable while we early to mid-aged are waxing adept dealing both with the robust youth and the greying demographic above us. Because of this, I wonder if we will see our own aging differently or reflect on our youths and accept these more readily?
One thing is for still sure though: the majority of people in these two groups -- the strengthening youth and the weakening demographic above us -- don't know what bukkake is.
Maybe that's an extreme example, but maybe we've reached the level of extreme examples. Or maybe they don't need to know, but what they do is this: before literature was first recognized as the literature we know today, it was condemned for being the written rantings of lunatics and the imbalanced. As a result, these protoscribes were eliminated physically from their tribes or primitive societies. Yes, and how horrible it was! Don't worry though; this barbarism ended years ago. In fact, it stopped exactly only one day prior to modern civilization declaring literacy.
As for today in history, there will be an infinite number of things that will happen around us, of which we will have zero knowledge. Nor will we seek it out.
And if you think that's bad, look at your watch.
Then remember the last time you were told to not look directly at the sun.
S*
2004.11.29 01:02-03:48
