Monday, May 29, 2006

Your emotions...

I was going to write an extended self-directed diatribe consisting of hair-shredding despair at my feeble and reactionary statements. Reacting against the worlds that intrude so rudely into mine day by day.

Then I remembered that Jello Biafra and the dead kennedys had already formulated this:

You're so boring boring boring
Always tape machine recording
You're so boring boring boring
I've heard all this before
I've heard all this before
I've heard all this before
Your emotions make you a monster
Your emotions make you a monster
Your emotions make you a monster
Your emotions make you a monster

and felt much better.

If 'popular culture' wants to dance round the pile of shiny coins, if we want to parse our lives out with distractive media and obfuscatory rhetoric of scientific progress that in fact deludes us further into believing we're the arbiters of a totalised reality that we're not, even,THAT'S ALL OK. But I'm bored, bored, bored shitless with it. My only saving grace is that I'm not a fiend or monster, to use the Sun argot. I understand a bit of cookery, I love my girlfriend...

...and words and concepts, tropes, memes, hopes & dreams seep about, mixing, melding, melismatically extrapolating from my brain like the fucking big sparking sensation sponge it is. Ready to drip back onto the drained canvas arcing all Dali foreshortened. And balls to you if you think this is indulgent shit - that is the point. Language is reductive but also expansive. Campfire stories, chants, sparks from aboriginal fires saving astronauts in The Right Stuff. fanciful human representations spanning more dimensions than we currently believe proven.

My uncanny x-man power could be beams of words, scratchety lines of script arcing from my fingertips to beat back the bad bastards of Babylon and keep the landing strip clear for the UFOs.

CAN YOU HURRY UP PLEASE ALL YOU E.B.E.s? I'm on my last set of knees here...

this post brought to you by bank holiday hangover, x-men 3, Aliens - why they are here by Bryan Appleyard and an enduring belief in the enduring possibility of enduring evolution in a chaotic universe. Proving we exist by saying stuff and writing it down so we can later reflect and say, look we were thinking about this shit. Passed the time, eh? [etc]


1 comment:

markwoff said...

cheers m'dear. so where's yr blog, smog? your murmurisms log? hmmm. i'll have to think through that one again.