I wish you could see my draft folder. A line here, a sentence there, a solid paragraph or two then the point is futile. Not moot, just pointless. Alternating rage, indignation and incredulity. Fast and furious. TIME OUT!
Ideas don't stand a fucking chance. A-list bloggers may vamp by tossing up an open topic (or eight?) and let their entourage carry the load. Others do linky goodness or post the outrage du jour. I know this because I visit their offerings when I'm procrastinating, which is my default mode.
Diversion and distraction are the only ways to sustain when the spittle and foaming prevent venting without resorting to drugs and drink. A drinker with a writing problem who comes to his senses about the substance thing is at a distinct disadvantage.
Does that mean the more prolific bloggers of note have yet to come to their senses?
How do you churn the churn, battle the demons, ignore the gnats, avoid the obstacles?
Must wear blinders? Buy a microscope? Hole up and focus?... To what end?
I feel like I'm already exceeding the speed limit, but driving through extremely bland, redundant and uninteresting terrain. Same shit; different day. Driven? Nah, just passing through.
Don't get me wrong, I go off, waxing melancholic about asshats being frog-marched to the stockade, but look around. It just ain't happening. Our asshat to semi-sober citizen ratio is at eleventyfuckingeleventy:two. The desperately needed culling and chilling has zero traction. That seems to be the formula. Nobody, -including/especially the guy who promised that we've had enough of this shit- is interested in altering the course.
How else do you explain the repetitive time loop of events? I'm not resigning or surrendering. The information bubble must be popped. From where I sit, I see the shooting gallery, but I also see that all the targets being repetitively knocked down are popping right back up and continuing on their merry way. Same batshit time; same batshit channel.
We are smarter than this aren't we?
"Steady losin' means you ain't using what you really thing is right.
You got news for me? I got nothing for you.
Don't pin your blues on me, just go ahead and do
whatever you wish to..." John Prine- Quiet Man
Monday, January 4, 2010
Sorry Folks, Too Much Information -OR- Spittle and Bug Splatter
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