Wednesday, July 23, 2003

sidney carton



To a man, to a woman, to every single individual, to wake up in this here everyday America is to every day be made subject to some self-serving sociopathic moron's humiliating charade.



Can you fucking deny this?



To wake up on the land between the east and west shores of America is to wake up beneath twin, undulating, ceaseless tsunamis of bullshit. Strike that, it's to actually wake up underwater where most people have metamorphosed into bullshitsluice breathing amphibians.



Awkward metaphors aside, to be able to unerringly discern the constant reality of Grade A American Bullshit is to be very, very unhappy.



Sometimes you might try to step outside the game, try to nudge nudge and wink wink with the surrounding players, whoever and wherever they might be, try to get a little mutual acknowledgement and recognition of the bullshit. Only if you are very very naive will you often attempt this. What you will find most of the time is that the other players think that they are righteous and that you are insane. What is bullshit to you is simply wonderful true and right to them. Certainty.



And in any case all is a matter of opinion. What I think and feel to be true is indeed true. Because I think it and feel it. Etc. And what I say is true because I say it. Because I have said this, this is true. And because it is true you shall believe it. And if you do not believe it it does not matter because you do not matter.



GWB SOTU



The moment you lose your self-possession and register anger, frustration, resentment toward the Bullshit, you risk everything. Because they will come for you if you carelessly alert them to the fact that you are not daily, merrily licking your shitstained plate utensils cup and fingers clean.

They will come for you and they will want to destroy you.



The paranoia you will henceforth need to sustain yourself can be aptly described as a semi-permanent mode and policy of an attitude called "Fuck You, Just In Case."



The strong move quiet.



If you are not a professional athelete or popular musician, your only recourse is to write disturbing books of fiction.