I am deeply saddened by the knowledge that I will cease to exist in my present form – a fact which belies understandings which further contribute to my inconsolable state.
Everything I know and love will, with my understanding of it, perish (for me, at least – the omnipresent solipsist nightmare-scenario). Every word and deed between us will eventually be lost or, worse, twisted through dying dreams into something terrible to comprehend.
I want to believe that this process of life is a metonym for a greater good, for some aspired-to state in which we are facets of a greater existence… but such beliefs ring hollow when I imagine how the reification of all possibilities holds as much cause for regret as cherished memories of our time together could hold joy.
That there exist possibilities of mutual hatred and destruction between us is a palpable hell to which I wish, begrudging eternal likelihood, we never descend – so I seek to ablate my consciousness with drink, turn to stilted words, over-reach my happiness to grasp at salvation from despair, and come up with… whatever this is.
Ours is but to persist or persist… pour another, emo kid.
Adapted from Bock Beer Macaroni and Cheese … because beer was in short supply (thirsty), there didn’t seem to be a good reason to add the flour, and additional cheeses seemed appropriate.
Note: Bacon, cheese sauce, and pasta may be prepared simultaneously (if you have already prepared cheese for addition to sauce).
Cook the bacon to desired crispness in the frying pan and set aside on large plate with a paper towel to soak up any extra grease.
There’s a lot of noise on the internet, particularly on social media networks and wherever a registered user (but especially an anonymous user) can leave a comment.
It’s not the busy hum of metaphorical wheels whirring turning to produce valuable insight.
It’s not the startled gasp of a new epiphany.
It’s nothing close to signal – it’s the staccato analog fuzz, the noise, of individuals continuously re-asserting their assumed identities and framing whatever they come across or (god forbid) create within the context of whom they claim to be.
News flash for you, opinion-posters, hourly status-changers, and daily profile photo-takers – but you probably won’t like it:
If you spend most of the preciously scarce time you have left on this earth talking about yourself/what you like/what you ate for lunch, you are something… and that thing is not worth anyone’s attention.
Finally, something I can’t relate to.
Toward the end of the Cold War, capitalism created a military horror: the neutron bomb, a weapon that destroys life while leaving buildings intact. During the Fourth World War, however, a new wonder has been discovered: the financial bomb. Unlike those dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, this new bomb not only destroys the polis (here, the nation), imposing death, terror, and misery on those who live there, but also transforms its target into just another piece in the puzzle of economic globalization.
What’s with the mask? Think you’re anonymous?
When you make behaviors a disease, individuals lose and systems win, this is always true, they benefit in still being able to call something “shameful” without needing to take any responsibility for its creation.
- Shame is the desired outcome
You do not place the Collective’s needs before your own? You must be sick…
Accepting a set of control instructions once, without analysis, makes us more likely to do the same thing a second, third, and fourth time. This is not a useful habit – far too close, literally, to “flying blind.”
- God Wants You Dead
by Sean Hastings and Paul Rosenberg
Combine with shoddy input validation and you’ve got a recipe for some problems.
Have you heard the gospel of the sun god who converted to Judaism?