Monday, October 28, 2013

Sex Spectacle (in the age of idiocy)

The spectacle as substitute for experience.

I.
The panopticon cannot see inside me. This is the one thing they could never take.

Yes, after many months confined, against the will, I am free. It was a Federal charge which if you know anything about jails (and you don’t) is a rather good thing. If you must be locked up (and all good humans in a corrupt place should), go big. 

The local ‘news’ spectacle told you that It was an apparent drug related shooting. But that is only because actual news is something someone doesn’t want you to know. Everything else is advertising. 

II.
But I’m not here to school you dear reader on the asinine futility of pretending you know something about the world having watched plastic tits talk between 5 and 5:30pm local. Time is precious. Which is another way of saying it isn’t.

Yes, even here in these poorly lit halls of apparent sexually frustrated misery. And yet it is precisely here, however, that we live and breath the real. What we do outside of here, that, craiglisters, is the dream get away. The real you is horny and looking for a connection, however polluted, perverse, voyeuristic and illegal, with another. The virtual world may seem like a place you venture off to, here and there, to get away. But the opposite is true.

You go to work, endure the boss, pay the tab, watch children murdered on your telly and wait at the stoplight like good citizens to get away from the demanding, over-proximity of the devious pervert you really are. Oh, the inhumanity of it all.

You were told that if you didn’t believe in God, you would deteriorate into wild animals and murderous thieves. You know, politicians. But here again, we must capture the something someone doesn’t want us to know. It is because you believe that you are now a mindless robot, killing not only yourself but various people around the globe in your incessant and seemingly foolish consuming of stuff. 
It is always the confident, true believer, removed of any doubt, that destroys his fellow with impunity. When God is on your side, no atrocity is too big. God demands.

If you quit believing, you might have to face the horror of deciding for yourself who you really want to be without any empirical proof that you are right. Or that you will successfully become this person. Becoming, now theres a term worth considering.

In other words, its not that if the big other doesn’t exist than all things are permitted, but because he exists [for you] that all things, however immoral and degrading, are therefor permitted. You are here because you believe too much.

III.
Pervert need not mean some one who diddles children. Perversion is simply a description of behaviors that deviates from the orthodox. So if the orthodox has itself become corrupt, well, Heresy is called for. The perverted monstrosity has become your salvation.

IV.
I am [such a] heresy. The divine anti-angelic pervert virus. The deranged, degenerate monk who just might save your life. Of course you are going to have to lose it first. You won’t believe this, especially at first. But, your doubt is important. I would say necessary. But that’s getting ahead of myself.

V.
I did learn several important lessons while incarcerated and no, it wasn’t that orange is the new black. It was that revolution is actually possible. One such lesson being that when an answer cannot be found, this is the answer. 

Also, in struggling to be different in a place that demanded absolute uniformity, one arrives at difference not by differing from an ‘other’ but by differing from one’s own self. 

Echo would be proud. You see what I did just there? Instead of God, I inserted Echo, the love of my life. 

Something haunts us. Something will always haunt us in this manner. Nemesis is never far. Then entertain treason we must... 


N.

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