A Turn of Events & Metro Logs
It’s been awhile since my last entry, and it feels good to be using wordpress once again. To be honest, I’ve been busy. So busy in fact that I’ve begun to neglect aspects of my existence that I hold in highest regard. As always, I seem to spend my life in transit, sitting next to people who I don’t know and feel nervous around. Like many others I take the metro (subway) for 2 hours everyday.
One small benefit of long commutes is the chance to sit down and think without feeling the pressures of being unproductive. The only thing I try to produce during my commutes are cloudy thoughts and cynical critics of mass society. I try to sketch down my ideas and read them when I get home from work. More often than not they have little value, but sometimes I find the odd snippet that is funny and amusing. For example:
1. Running to catch a subway is so fucking cliché that I try to never do it. I just don’t want to be that guy on the other side of those doors who is standing there like an asshole, his greatest efforts running got him nowhere and he is now a mockery to everyone on board the metro.
2. I have a hard time understanding anyone that stills wears religious garments – it is such an explicit public declaration of faith that went out of vogue in the 17th century, I find it fascinating and terrifying at the same time. Unless they know something I don’t I’m inclined to call them crazy. Why hasn’t God told me what to wear?
I’m going to try and get back into this slowly. It’s been awhile and I would like to have a graceful entry. Now it’s time to drink some coffee and be productive.
The Quest for Authenticity in the Age of Plastic
As I looked into her eyes it became clear that something was missing from her life, there, somewhere inside her body, was an empty space that had been mined of all its authenticity. Years of advertising and mass produced plastic trinkets had taken its toll; she no longer understood what it meant to be genuine. Wal-Mart, McDonalds, Suburbia, and Reality Television have a way of emptying heads and refilling them with plastic, taking away our human zest for individualism, adventure and significance.
Did you see that Britney Spears shaved her head? The Osborne’s swear a lot. Did you see who got kicked off American Idol last night? Paris Hilton is in jail again. The Hummer H2 is a huge SUV. Scary Movie 3 is so funny. Do you like my new shoes? This band’s tour has been sponsored by Honda. Wal-Mart sells DVD players for under $20 dollars. I’m going to a 5-star resort in Cancun for week. Sorry, I drink Coke not Pepsi.
What has happened here? Have we so easily succumb to the trivial whispers of the plastic life? There is more than this; there is authenticity and real feelings and events. Authenticity is not something that can be entirely bought from superficial profit seekers. It must arise from within, from a community with real people and places to go. Yet, amongst the ruins of authentic living there is a rising resistance. Some of those among us are starting to understand what they are missing.
One of the clearest examples of this can be found on those who wear vintage clothing. It is a reaction, ever so slight. It is something that cannot be fabricated overseas in China. Even Starbucks, so highly contentious, has built its image based on the authentic cafes of Milan. People want to be creative; they want freedom from the cookie cutter suburbs and the grinding sameness of corporate franchises.
I found this interesting quote yesterday, I think it may be one of my favorites:
-Walt Whitman-
I think I could turn and live with animals, they’re so placid and self contain’d, I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the earth.
End Times
I cannot help but feel some global tragedy is looming over us. This is a popular belief these days; it seems that people have come to accept that something will happen sooner or later. There is a certain excitement about it, for we all know that heroes are born during tragedy, will I be a hero, or will I be a face in the mud?
-At the movies, Sartre-
“She took my hand and held it in hers without a word. I was flooded by bitter joy and I understand, without having to look at my watch that it was eleven o’clock. From that time on we began to feel the minutes passing. That time we were leaving each other for 3 months. At one moment they threw a completely blank image on the screen, the darkness lifted, and I saw that Anne was crying. Then, at midnight, she let go of my hand, after pressing it violently; I got up and left without a word. That was a good job.”
I remember words that my mother gave me when I was young. I had broken both my wrists and was in the hospital enduring grueling pain. She sat down beside me and calmly told me to always remember that, “This too, shall pass.” At the time I took comfort in those words, those which I have come to fear more than any other. Grab the hands of the ones you love, because we must never forget that this too shall pass.
The moment has answered to me, and it has passed. It is time to finish my coffee and go to work. I’ll put a smile on and empty my mind; where I work, there are no thoughts allowed.
Cheap Trinkets
Everywhere the streets are bustling as people try to have adventures. My adventure today is a small one, I’m sitting in my normal spot, methodically sipping my coffee as the crowd walks by. It seems that each person has a destination, as I will in around 20 minutes when I leave for work.
The mix is strange; the crowd consists of tourists, performers putting up their promotional fliers, and disgruntled locals who are sick of all the foolish and shallow sightseers. Tourists do not seek real adventure, instead they seek reputation. They want so badly for everyone to know where they have been. They want proof in the form of souvenirs. Intelligent locals exploit this fact by selling tourists ‘local’ items that have been imported from China. These are usually nothing but cheap trinkets.
I am guilty too, except I don’t want cheap trinkets, even if I could afford them. Instead, I take pictures of things, hopefully things that are interesting in some way. I imagine that any important area of Edinburgh has already been photographed a million times by people with better eyes and cameras than me.
It’s time to have a destination. I’ve had my release and have mentally prepared for the grueling onslaught that will numb my mind for 11 hours. It will be nice when I can stop working to live.
Purpose and Absurdity
Absurd: wildly unreasonable, illogical, or inappropriate.
Purpose: The reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.
People of power
Nothing much to say today, went to work last night, going to work again today. 20 hours in two days… no overtime pay. Workers rights do not exist here, I’ll probably be doing 80 hours a week. People don’t seem to understand what living should be… embedded below is an interesting clip I stumbled upon. I think it speaks volumes, and although I am no anarchist, it is still amazing and inspirational.
Living with uncertainty
I think one of the hardest characteristics of life is its crushing uncertainty. There are certainly people who think about it, but the crowd largely tries to ignore it, won’t confront it, won’t keep it in the front of their minds when walking home from work. But we all do in a way, because life so requires it. We know the past in fragments, strange vague memories; but the future, that we cannot know. We are stuck here, now, in the present, as we always will be. Sadly, the only thing we can be sure about is that we will experience the passing of time, aging (if were lucky), and we-will-all-die. There will be void as there was before we were born. Even worse, because we are so stuck in the present, when we unavoidably arrive at death it will be as though we hadn’t lived at all.
Sarah left for Hawaii today and sent me an e-mail explaining that if her airplane should crash into the Pacific Ocean, I should move on and continue; find a new girlfriend, keep working on my music, keep living. She has no fear of flying or death, she craves adventure, but we all live with crushing uncertainty, even those who love it so.
There is a man who stands at the corner of George Street in Edinburgh. Beside him is a majestic, eternal stone statue of some noble figure that changed the world. The man spends his working life in the shadow of this statue. His job is to sell some sort of magazine called ‘The Big Issue.’ As you walk by he whispers its name in a high pitch nasal tone. The same three words over and over and over and over again and again… “The Big Issue?” His loyal dog lies beside him, patiently waiting to make enough sales so that they can go home. They seem neither content nor troubled, they simply exist.
Quotes from the man…
I’ve still been reading over some of Sartre’s novel. I’ve found three small passages that are particularly nice;
“The last chord has died away. In the brief silence which follows I feel strongly that there it is, that something has happened.”
“The outline of the king of hearts appears between his curled fingers, then it is turned on its face and the game goes on. Mighty king, come from so far, prepared by so many combinations, by so many vanished gestures. He disappears in turn so that other combinations can be born, other gestures, attacks, counterattacks, turns of luck, a crowd of small adventures…”
“… I have had real adventures. I can recapture no detail but I perceive the rigorous succession of circumstance. I have crossed seas, left cities behind me, followed the course of rivers or plunged into forests, always making my way towards other cities. I have had women, I have fought with men; and never was I able to turn back, any more than a record can be reversed. And all that led me-where?
At this very instant, on this bench, in this translucent bubble all humming with music”
I think everyone should listen to the song, “New Age” (the long version) by the Velvet Underground…
Train Rides and Country Sides
Some of us are born in hospitals; some of us are born in cafes. I am of the latter variety. I often come to cafes to sit and read, actions that I hope stimulate real thoughts about myself and how I interact with this world. Today I’ve chosen to read passages from Nausea by Sartre, and I’ve found myself wishing I were more intelligent than I actually am. This is something that happens often, I feel as though I am a smart, conscience man who is condemned to live his life with an underdeveloped brain. I have a hard time remembering the months in order or doing simple math. In fact, the only reason I am capable of writing anything sensible at all is because of the crutch of spellcheck. I should turn it off one day and see how bad I actually am.
Things in Edinburgh have been a mixed bag. The honeymoon is over and I am slowly starting to understand why people might not want to live here for the rest of their lives. There is a degree of general sophistication that seems to be lacking here. At the risk of sounding like a pretentious prick, I am not interested in Soccer or reality television. It seems that there is an entire channel here devoted to the show ‘Big Brother,’ a program that puts groups of simple people in a house filled with cameras so that we might watch their every move. There is something extremely eerie about coming home from the bars at 4am, turning on the television, and seeing people sleeping. In any other circumstance this would be totally unacceptable, but thanks to the cold distance offered by television we can all play out our most sickening voyeuristic fantasies.
Last night I obliged my cousins by attempting to become a member of the century club. I was the most reluctant, but got the furthest (51 shots) and stayed the most rational. Judgments were passed as I watched James and Sam throw 3 or 4 beer bottles from our 4th story flat. They wanted to meet some girls who were loitering down in the streets and felt that throwing bottles at them would be a good way to introduce themselves. The crazy thing is, Sam went home with one of the girls. That makes 3 or 4 during the last week or so. His girlfriend who currently resides in California would probably be beside herself if she knew it all.
It’s going to be a long summer. My degree in political science and philosophy has served me well by helping me secure a position in the kitchen of the Hardrock Café. I’m making minimum wage. I wonder how much I am really worth?. Maybe I’ll make more money if I start throwing bottles off roofs?
I’m trying to hide my hand from people. I have an unsightly wart and am always worried about the judgments that fall upon me. Logically speaking, I know that there are other people who are one million times worse off than me, but in my mind, it is a big issue. Now if I could only figure out why? My endless search for acceptance… Is it a confidence issue? No. I am confident, even cocky… but for some reason I still fear rejection and confrontation. Confrontation is a way of life here. Bar fights are normal and expected. James and Sam are always ‘almost’ getting into fights. Why? It’s not a skill that is entirely useless. At their core they are good people and would step in if a situation merited it. I like to think that I could, but I have my doubts. Not that I am a coward, well, maybe a little.
The music here is terrible. It lacks the raw and authentic grunge that was born in the 60’s. Everything here is pop and produced. People would judge and laugh if they heard what I listen to. Frustrating, most music videos make me upset. I feel that they are almost always mouthing the words. I imagine the sleek marketing specialist directing the video, telling the singers to contort their face a little more… “we want people to think you are full of emotion.” The lines between acting and music are becoming more and more blurred. Obviously it is inevitable, but there are real limits. Some people don’t have the patience or attention span to sit down and listen for the sake of listening. Probably the same people who watch ‘Big Brother.’
I have no illusions that I judge. I think everyone does, it’s natural. We need to do it to define ourselves. If I don’t like something, that speaks volumes about my personality. Is it wrong? Maybe. But I’ll continue to do it in the confidence of my own thoughts regardless, as you will too. Maybe I’ll feel more upbeat tomorrow. Maybe I’ll learn how to spell.
