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| TIME TRODDEN, REVISITED |  | Category: Rant
Wednesday, January 23rd, 2002 @ 11:07 pm
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or,
-ON THE RELATIVE INADEQUACY OF CERTAIN UNMENTIONABLE ANATOMICAL DETAILS OF YOUR HUMBLE JOURNALIST-
or,
-SHORTCOMINGS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE IN ALL OF ITS FORMS, BE THEY SPOKEN, WRITTEN, OR EVEN THOUGHT-
Yeah. So there's some fru-fru talk to kind of serve as a rough guideline of what's to come and to give this post a faint air of decency. I hope it's enough, cuz I'm feeling rather short lately.
Firstly and foremostly, we have the "time trodden, revisited" part, so I'll get to that directly. I asked you all for your input on what gives your lives meaning and makes you want to get up and greet a shiny new day (more or less- I'm not splitting hairs when it comes to quoting myself). You responded. And now I respond (and I'm sure there will be biting back in the comments and then the world's problems will be solved).
It seems that the bulk of your responses involved the pursuit of the (semi-theoretical) CP. I'm inclined to write the whole matter off as silly responses, given the general tone of the exchange. However, all of them were granted permanence of record, so I can only assume that this is an honest-to-claude focus for those who mentioned it. And with that, I don't really know what to say. The two of you who have actually experienced it seem to regard it as a pleasant fluke that occurred mostly because the opportunity presented itself and there was no reason to not indulge. He who hasn't seems to put it on a pedestal higher than the perpetual motion device or sliced bread and yet can't seem to resolve his anger and immodesty/hubris enough to afford any reasonable expectation of the achievement thereof in the foreseeable future. But hell, there's always room to strive and hope and if that's what keeps him going then who am I to judge?
There were also comments made regarding the pursuit of inebriation, entertainment, and the opportunity to entertain. In my mind, these are all separated by kind of nonexistant lines. I'm totally down with all of them and have been for some time. My only gripe is that it seems that so many ducks have to be in a row (to turn a phrase) in order for these pursuits to be achieved that I am at times fiercely annoyed with their existence (the ducks', that is). But I guess in the end my annoyance doesn't do much to outweigh my enjoyment of entertainment and/or diminished mental facility, so I'll nip a paranoid rant in the bud.
A comment was made about fellating our webmaster. While this is not a practice I stand in opposition to, I will leave participation in that activity to interested parties.
Speaking of our webmaster, he also made mention of taking care of this site. I think that makes sense. Hobbies are considered healthy channels for one to focus creative energies into. So much the better if the hobby facilitates the entertainment or enlightenment of others and encourages communication within a peer group.
Lastly on this topic, someone stated that the big three killed his baby. This was decided to be an unsolicited conversational off-ramp and was thusly done away with. Later, by way of explanation, he made it known that this was intended as a quote of a song that means something to him. After shedding brighter light on the matter, the whole exercise was considered to truly be facetious. However, I have gone to the trouble of locating the lyrics of the full song and learned many things in the process- some of which I will gladly share with you now, gentle reader.
 It's damned near impossible to find any collections of White Stripes lyrics on the web or in newsgroups.
When you can find lyrics, they're usually for the same one or two songs.
Their new video (for "Fell in Love with a Girl") is a brain-folding trip into Lego animation land.
"The Big Three Killed My Baby" is a very angry song and I did a pretty damned good job of figuring out the lyrics on my own, thank you very much.
I'm not going to reprint the lyrics here, but suffice it to say that they are about the enforced permanence of the auto and oil industries and how Mr. White seems to feel dwarfed -yet no less outraged- when faced with them. Which takes me to the next part of my post. (And I'll aim for brevity).
The reason I posted the whole question of what keeps folks going is because when I look out at the world I feel rather powerless. This bugs me because I'm living in the freest fucking nation on this planet and yet when I see what has been accomplished by certain unleashed and well-fed dogs I am left slackjawed. There is little one can do to change this state of affairs and I am sick of it. I find myself over and over again wishing for impossibly longer middle fingers and a whole new vocabulary full of words so foul that the one and only true God would fall down in tears if I would so much as whisper them. But that won't be happening any time soon, so I proceed to the next day... with my heart full of black stuff and prayers for meteors on my lips.
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