Tuesday, November 17, 2009

It's a not so fine line anymore. -OR- The Dark Side of Sunshine

As one who appreciates fine lines, be they written, typed, grunted, spoken or sung, I have a virtual relational database that is an ever-evolving, ever-growing pool of concise knowledge nuggets. This sometimes ALWAYS causes me problems as I connect two dots in ways that are not immediately clear to my correspondents.

There comes a time in most purposeful conversations when comity is lost. You're no longer speaking with a sentient being. Something you've said or done has clearly overloaded their processor. That isn't so much surprising as it is disappointing.

You've lost them. You've triggered their failsafe and set off a redunancy loop.

The perceived lack is not mine own. I readily admit that my database doesn't accommodate stupid. It's set up for progressive discourse. It handles naive', it cajoles misinformed, it will go toe to toe with stubborn and accepts, even welcomes, reasonableness.

Normally, when my buzz-cut nuggets fly by, past and over the meatsticks I choose to move on. Smirking smugly; growing out of my class.

I WANT to be misunderstood.

I wanna be obscure and oblique
inscrutable and vague, so hard to pin down
I wanna leave open mouths when I speak
want people to cry when I put them down.

My present quest, and the reason for my temporary, self-imposed, absence from this space is actually the continuation of a past effort that was left to age and ripen. I told myself that people just weren't ready to be practical. Some time spent getting
it, but good, from the snake oil merchants would help them see the light.

Sadly, what wasn't selling then, still isn't. In an interesting(?) confluence of influence, my message is being blurred by the larger contexts and sentiments. I didn't think I could FIX Washington or Springfield or Crook County. I didn't think I had to. All I wanted to do was fix unfuck our local structures that had started to resemble their bigger bureaucratic siblings. Unresponsive and unaccountable, agendized and pwned, run for the few and the expense of the many.
Punitive, consumed with feeding and negligent of responsibilities to "the little guy".

You can't even run your own life, I'll be damned if you'll run mine!

Thankfully, I still have 504 days to make something happen.
Too bad I'm not good at this shit.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

nice post. thanks.