Letter Day 47: An E-conomy of spite
June 11, 2007
One of the real underrated signs of a rough weekend is waking up with one inexplicably swollen eye. It’s as if half my brain witnessed something of such suspect viewabilty it’s refusing to raise the lid all the way in protest. I’m going to give it few hours to come around on it’s own before I start applying random solvents to try and shake it out of it’s funk. On to Letter Day!
Fuck religion. Fuck politics. Fuck a world defined by set roles and the archaic shame structures of old white men. We need to think without mind. Speak with our actions and commitment, which transcend the pedestrian limits of language. We exist purely, without the need for external consent/definition. I challenge you and I challenge your readers to cease being Sheeple and engage.
Well, Matty…I think you’re making great strides on the thinking without mind front. Normally I’d be a tad more subtle about this, but anyone who uses a buzz world like Sheeple to put forth their call to Iconoclassicism lacks sufficient ironic capacity to pick up on sarcasm.
Here’s the deal the deal: you didn’t actually say anything there. No argument was put forth. No existing supposition challenged. No terms defined. You seem to be blurrily attacking Western society, objective reality, and the nature of language…and your entire commentary was “it’s bad, let’s do something else.” This doesn’t even qualify as solipsistic begging of the question…it’s like some crow learned a few disconnected phrases, then flew into a symposium and started cawing.
You need to calm down, pick up a book, and stop absorbing pseudo-philosophy from the meth addled front man of your junior high emocore-punk band.
I heard your mind is so powerful you can shoot a laser that could sear the faith off a dragon, is this true?
It’s half a truth, Whip. The reality is I have a sense of self worth so an inflamed it could reheat a cup of coffee…given favourable winds and a good nights sleep.
Did you ever give your friends any obnoxious nicknames?
I used to call my little brother Dewlap, because he had big lips and made stupid noises when he drank stuff.
I’m actually not much of Nickname guy when to come’s to my friends, Pete. If I decide to apply a slanderous sobriquet there is generally some genuine contempt underlying the act. For example:
The Ho-larm clock
A buddy of mine (from back in the day) had one of the most irritating and needy girlfriends walking the earth. If he ever had the audacity to leave her alone to hang out with us she would (without fail) call him at the two hour mark and squawk for him to come home. She was relentless: if he blew her off/told her he’d be busy for a while, she’d call every twenty minutes on the dot to shriek and wheedle some more. This was referred to as his “Ho-larm clock going off“. A tad misogynistic I know…but funny.
Aside from that I’ve had lots of limited use random things I call folks (ie Stinkapotmous), but not to the extent it would qualify as a nickname.
I once (in a poetry workshop) called a dude Hans Christian Blanderson and he almost started to cry. I actually felt kind of bad…bullying poets isn’t exactly high sport.
You guys are time thieves that have destroyed my workplace productivity. I’ve been rooting through the archives and feel my sense of world and culture warping to an unacceptable degree. Give me back my Life! Give me back my hope and joy!
Joe, Despairing in Georgia.
Sadly, Joe, your hope and joy have already been fed into the vast emotional furnace that powers Beats Entropy. Actually this is good chance to provide a brief sampling of the pscho-emoconomy of blogdom, for the folks at home.
(Raw emotional good) ——————-> (Converted to end product)
Someone speaks highly of my character –> Beat cat guilt free for two hours
Positive review of prose—————–> Can speak condescendingly to people on bus
Sincere seeming praise for poetry——-> Forget 7 minutes of childhood humiliation
Hope and/or Joy abandoned————-> The screams of children go quiet for a while
Added to blogroll/ mentioned in post –> Be lazy at real job due to writely delusions
Dearly held belief dispelled by rhetoric—> Three hour Saturday erection
Person admits they read site daily—-> Walk about shirtless and oiled up for no reason