Monday, November 03, 2008

observations, impressions

It seems like life is similar to traffic in a city. You are making headway, then you stop, then you wait, then you go... no, wait you stop again...

back and forth inbetween these being states, forward into the motion of fluid thought and action and then back into the stasis of dumbness and nothing.

If the world has many cities and when you move through a city your are like, nothing-- just another pair of feet on the sidewalk-- then the internet is even larger where you move through that and are less than nothing. You are nothing to everyone all at once, not quite what they are looking for, or nothing like they are looking for, and although you may feel some despair, really they are that to you most of the time:

The pages that don't exactly match your query.

The fluidity part comes when you can talk about, say, loneliness and not feel as lonely even though you really know that none of it matches anything that anyone is really looking for and so will never encounter that.

So you are alone in your loneliness, more alone than if you had not said anything at all, because at least before you said it you were not having to admit it to yourself that this is the way you feel.

Even so, still just another pair of feet, not even in the same place, moving across some uncaring sidewalk towards some other place where you will not belong.

I once said something that I thought was trite but was actually very clever in retrospect. That 'culture' is a byproduct of concentrations of people, like beer is generated from a yeast culture, and the bubbles in beer are, really, just yeast farts. But it is the sum total of those bubbles that makes the beer what it is, and the various bubbles travel along a path that they have no control over, but travel it like they are destined to. So, does it matter that one of these bubbles somehow 'knows' it's one bubble of many in a glass of beer? Is the beer somehow enlightened by this knowledge? Somehow more enriched, if the bubble knew as it traveled it's inexorable speeding course to the surface of the beer, to become one
with the Godhead, that it was merely a yeast fart? What is more important, the totality of The Beer, or the singularity of the individual Yeast Farts?

It is likely the gestalt of the two that is most important-- I used to like beer, but I don't like beer anymore-- haven't for years, it gives me reflux.

And with this bold stroke, loneliness (or whatever else one might have yearned to fart into the milieu that is 'culture') is banished.