[360] With My Freeze Ray

“A point in every direction is the same as no point at all.”

I can't escape this idea. As someone who is constantly taking in a ton of information, feelings of pointlessness are familiar and persuasive. Not necessarily about what I'm doing, but I speculate on the reasons the information I'm taking in exists. You see similar stories, hear similar excuses, and watch the patterns play out and you can't help but think, if you wanted to look and sound like everything else, what's the point?

Everyone's on Youtube. It's part of the reason I stopped going there. When the guy who used to make pretty good videos against religion realized there was less and less to talk about, he switched to showing us how good he was at guitar. Not why I signed up. Everyone is part of some collective or video making group or has a very meager sponsor. Everyone wants to sponsor someone! If you're a comedian for longer than a few years, you bet your ass you have a tv show or a podcast. Ever hear of this thing where you can self-publish books!? New York Times best seller, here we come.

The world feels gray, cheap, convenient and abundant. I don't often know what to trust unless I've spent an inordinate amount of time sifting through it all personally and then comparing it against each other. As such, when it becomes too much, or it just seems I can't relate to it with anyone, I see myself getting “generally frustrated.” It's easy to lump in different problems and positions into an overall “why the fuck is everything fucked” kind of umbrella.

As such, while I stand by my anger towards simple and passing slights, because they're somehow malicious in their ambivalence, I want to refrain from out and out hypocrisy by recognizing my capacity to glance over the details. Because sometimes it's just easier to feel angry and speak from anger.

But there's the issue. When your culture feels arbitrary, do you blame it because it's wrong? Or do you ignore it because it is in fact arbitrary? As someone with an agenda, it's hard to believe the latter. I'm mostly lost for figuring out other peoples' agenda. Surely some of them have one. But how can I tell? Everyone has a voice, especially when maybe they don't need one. Everyone's famous. Words just are. Hop on the train to the national stage of public opinion. The fact that you're talking is quite enough.

I just want people to be saying something. Not, I'm bored so I get drunk a lot and cook. Sure, that one episode was funny, the 112th means you have a real problem. Because you can pirate pro-tools doesn't make you a producer. Because all you're friends voted you easiest to talk to doesn't mean you're the next Dear Abby.

That's why I write a shitty blog on shitty websites. That's as far as my voice needs to carry until I'm saying or doing something more worthwhile than depicting the various ways in which the world blows. The only real reason I volunteer it is because I don't know how better to talk to myself.

[359] Hazard A Guess

I think I'm in the mood to be mean.

The funny thing about this idea is that, the less you know, or care to know, about me, you'd assume I'm always mean. It seems like a recurring habit of people as a whole to ignore all the time between “incidences.” It doesn't matter the good natured gestures or professions of happiness or friendship, especially when it fits your present agenda, let's write off the moment or person in the simplest manner.

I feel like this shouldn't have to be constantly beaten into people, but here goes. What's the worst thing you could say? What's the most inappropriate? What's the smallest-minded, utterly disgraceful and disregarding load of shitty drivel opinion or idea you could ever hold? Welcome to my mind and where I make comments come from. “Isms” are easy. Shitting on the recipe of someone's free food they were willing to cook for you is so obviously ludicrous and disrespectful, how in your ever loving fucking mind could you think someone would or could honestly come from that position? Thankfully, the cook gets the joke.

It's one thing to not find something funny, it's another to deliberately mischaracterize where someone is coming from. I feel like I've been getting hints of a character assassination, and it's fucking pissing me off. Sure, there are things I don't like about my friends or can get caught up in a shit talking moment. I certainly don't try to insist upon my other friends that they should or shouldn't think something about someone else. I can explain history or speak of an incident, but the “so and so is this” is different from “this and this happened involving these people.”

I'm not just a dick, and if you were worth half a damn as a friend you'd care to understand why I relate to the world the way I do. And don't get me wrong, this isn't me pretending like I'd ask you to.

I think this happens when too much fake shit and fake talk starts to creep into interactions. The word friend starts to get blown up and conflated with too many things and people don't know what to take for granted or when to be left to their own devices. Score another under the general reasons I like to be the fuck alone.

Sometimes, frequently lately, I think I just need an entirely different social setting. Being around the “pretty cool” or “hot enough” or “smarter than the average bear” crowd is proving stressful. I'm desperate for more people like me. Utterly desperate. Ones who want to dominate information or create ways of interacting and relating in the world that are rarely or weakly seen. I want to spend no time on misconception and empty professions and just work. I want the exponential gains of people on the same page.

And, not for nothing, but trying to account for the vastly overwhelming amount of people, friends, who are depressed, anxious, or have threatened or tried to commit suicide, you'd be a little fucking jaded and find it hard to emotionally or terribly sympathetically relate. I then want to take it a step farther and shit on all the “likes,” “good vibes,” and “prayers” from the 50 odd people who didn't call the police department.

How many people are literally born with fucked up brain chemistry or have been through immense trauma? Plenty, and this isn't shit on those who have. How many are victims of and co-conspirators in the dialogue and culture the drama-fys not just the condition but our response to it? Every time you're persuaded not to pull the trigger hardly looks like that bright when a single dominating moment allows you “win” the game in spite of it all. To me, the joke is only funny when you acknowledge the genuine horror it's speaking to.

If you're curious what it sounds like when the jokes stop, keep asking.