Aug. 23rd, 2011

wolven7: (The Very Devil)
Einsturzende Neubauten - Headcleaner--- I've been in a place, lately, where I'm trying to drag a sense of magic back into the shit storm of petty mundanity that my life has become. Where I'm doing my best to dig a pickaxe into the axis mundi and draw down a furrow of synchronicity. Just fucking Mainline it, you know?

I'm off my game.

I've been letting too much of the academics get to me, too much of the fail experimentation, too much of the mundane day to day job bullshit in which I find myself... steeping. Stewing. Sloughing off bits of myself into some kind of undifferentiated morrass. Some horrible combination of sloppy joes and soup that is... What? Hopes? Dreams? Aspirations? Fuck it.

The fact is, I was off my game. What the hell was my game, again? Oh that's right, it was making things happen. The thing is, I never could do that for myself. Never consistently, anyway. Never for long. And when I turned the apparatus inward, it always collapsed under its own weight, soon or later.

So what do we do with this? What do we take from this exercise? I take from it-- and the excerise, again, if you've missed it, is mainlining synchronicity-- is that I need to act on things as they appear.

Sleater-Kinney - Oh!--- I mean that should be obvious, or something, but when is it ever? There's too much noise, just now. Too much temptation to say that everything is shit and will be, but that's not where I want to be, not where I will be, not if I can help it. Where I will and want to be is talking, learning, teaching, always, discusing, dissecting, parsing, refitting, recombining, reshaping, always. I want to destroy and create, I want to dig to the heart of things, eat that heart, and breathe out flame and ashes to build the next thing's heart.

I want to make everything, unmake everything.

I will, I take it, have to make this be the case.

Suzanne Vega - Bound--- I want to talk about the things we make which make us. The failures, the triumphs, the associations, the assignations, the assumptions.

When I was very young-- somewhere between 9 and 11 years old-- I said that I would play Pearl Jam's "Black," for my first girlfriend, that it would be the song that showed her what I felt, how I understood love, up to that point. That song is about loss, is about never getting what you truly desire, about not understanding why you don't get what you want. Somewhere in my pre-adolesence I made the decision that, because no one understood what I wanted on a fundamental level, no one would ever understand what I wanted, would ever stay around.

I realised, tonight, that I've been carrying that around with me, for maybe 20 years, and said to myself, "Maybe you should investigate what that's been doing to your undergirding psychology, for all of these years."

A Tribe Called Quest - Can I Kick It--- Yes you can.

You see, it doesn't matter if you're not understood, if you understand others, and if those others genuinely make the attempt. No one ever really understands anyone else. "No one ever knows anyone," but it's not about the nihilistic shitstorm that can follow from that kind of thinking. It's about recognising that we fucking try. We do what we can to come to some sort of mutuality of feeling, some sense or idea that says "I am trying to know you." (Pearl Jam - Black). We don't have to succeed, we just havce to make the attempt. We approach and approach. We move toward each other, in our ways, and we overlap, and we interconnect, and we are...

Together? Something.

Take your friends and keep them as close as you can, I guess.

There's magic in everyday activities. There is wonder in the most mundane things. There's a raw, screaming pulse of existence, creating, destroying, fucking, dying, exploding, succumbing to entropy, all around you, all the time.

What the fuck makes you think you could stop being swept up in it, by not looking at it? What the fuck makes you think that staring it straight in the face is going to do anything for you other than give you a fractionally better chance at steering your course?

And why the fuck wouldn't you want that fraction?

Dig deep, everyone.

Azam Ali - [Abode]--- Look in your hearts, look in your pockets, look in the cracks of the cushions, look under your fucking chairs, but look, and look hard. It's there, god damn you, and all you have to do is find it and grab it with both hands and try to choke it down until it stops struggling (it won't ever stop) and then cram it down your own throat, jam it into your heart, rub it into your gumbs, grind it into your tear ducts, whatever, just reintegrate the system, recreate operational cohesion. Fucking work the goddamn corner of your heart, pimping and whoring and johning yourself to yourself to yourself. Just find the full of it-- your life, damn it, your fucking dreams-- and you dig into it like you're a sherpa with a climbing axe and you've got four fucking idiot city children on a line behind you, trying to come up the mountain of your ancestors "because it's there"

David Bowie - [Segue- Nathan Adler (II)]--- And Sure, you think about cutting the line, but you know what? (Grammal Seizure - [Fetish]). Maybe you don't do it. Maybe if you dig in, hard enough, if you drag their sorry, idiot asses up here, they'll come back down with something, some sense of what it might mean. Some idea of how to see something as more than a challenge, or an obstacle, or a talking point. A sense that yeah, that is there.

Goddamn is it ever.

Or maybe you'll just have enough cash in your pocket to feed your family, another week.

Cranes - [Are You Gone?]--- What? It can be Both.


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