Read Not, and Forever Hold Your Peace


A reflection on anatomical impossibility:

“I gave it the ol’ college try—well, you know, everything short of binging to blackout so someone else could cram it in for me—but, no, it ain’t happening.”

(#nevermind)

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Why? Why Do I Have to Bargain for This Part?


So here’s the deal: When you finally find it, will you please, just for once in your life, ask yourself how the fucking fuck-all it got there in the first place?

I swear unto you . . . .

Go Fuck Yourself


I tried to keep a thought in my head long enough to launch a text editor in order to write it down and then post it on a blog. The fact that I was unable to remember what I was on about seems somehow significant.

Indeed, the fact that I was unable to properly select this blog from the menu ought to mean something.

I keep trying to tell people, but they say I’m being silly.

How Stupid | #trumpstupid


#trumpstupid | #WhatTheyVotedFor

Detail of 'Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal' by Zach Weiner, 12 June 2015.

There comes a point at which it seems the most straightforward explanation seems, quite simply, that Donald Trump does not understand how much trouble he cannot get out of.

____________________

Image note: Detail of Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal by Zach Weiner, 12 June 2015.

But That’s My Brain You’re Talking About


There is no specific answer . . . .

Conversations go wherever they will, but it also feels really, really stupid to actually stand there and say the words, “And if it kills me?” Honestly, I just don’t understand why the discussion really would need to go that far.

It may well have taken two and a half years to recover from the last time. And that’s presuming such repair and recovery is actually finished, which is itself a problematic definition.

Still, though, why not? I mean, I get it. Here, instead of just blindly telling you to try buying this and if that doesn’t work maybe in a year we’ll try buying something else, now we have a test to tell you what to buy, and if it doesn’t work, it only takes a couple years to recover, at least, but, hey, why do that, because you can just take the new, improved, updated test again and try buying something else, and at some point, being wrong can kill people.

But never ask the question, because we already know the answer:Say what?

“And if it kills me?”
Don’t be silly.

This is not some simple thing, like switching mouthwash. That we might achieve a need to ask the question explicitly would seem significant.

Antithetical Seeds


Is it, then, some challenge of art, because in truth explaining what seems important enough to justify the sentiment is far more complicated than the moment otherwise seems to warrant: Of course the plate of birdseed has been moved to the dripline, that it might collect the water falling off the roof.

People are people. Humans are human. When truth being stranger than fiction starts to seem an insult is approximately the point at which one can no longer ignore the nagging, garbled question about how human imperfection seems so inhumanly, perfectly antithetical, as if an act of will.