Tag: serenity

“joseph campbell”

I was watching Bart Ehrman debate some dude, forgot who, and he mentioned the non-canonical early Christian text, Apocalypse of Peter (never read it). The text describes heaven and hell, with descriptions of hell being far more creative than those of heaven. Point being, as Ehrman explains (paraphrasing): “there are only so many ways to describe eternal bliss”, while the imagination on eternal damnation knows no bounds.

It’s not really a revolutionary observation, I know, but that’s true in all our storytelling: “heaven” is a place of temporary stability before “hell” comes along and propels the plot forward. Therefore much of the creative energy behind a story lies in the “hell” of it all.

In other words, story is conflict.

But I think Ehrman’s statement is also a reflection on the nature of language. I’ve always found that imaginative descriptions of dread, anger, depression, anxiety, etc. to be far more creative and rewarding than depictions of bliss. Heaven, beauty, bliss, etc lie in the realm of the sublime, and therefore transcend the possibilities of language.

However, that might just be a reflection of my own deranged mind.

Whatever dude, shit’s boring.

breathing is underrated 2

Now I do have to breathe like everyone else

But I walk around with a mask and oxygen tank.

I don’t breathe the same fart-tinged air that you all do. That’s disgusting.

But there ain’t nothing that a deep breath can’t fix.

Pissed off in traffic? Take a deep breath.

Standing at the ATM when someone puts a .22 to your back? Breathing can fix that.

Got an itchy trigger finger in Home Depot and want to take your frustrations at the world out on yourself or others? Just breathe.

Everything will be alright.

If things get REALLY bad, just shut the garage door, turn on the car, then sit back and relax 😀

So calm down, chill, be cool 😎

sleep is underrated

Of course, I’ve never slept before.

But YOU should sleep more.

It’s really the only thing worth living for.

(I seriously wasn’t trying to rhyme there)

Think about it: you don’t have to do anything. Just lay there.

Why it’s so hard for people to do, I’ll never understand. There’s probably something wrong with you tbh.

It’s like we’re so conditioned to do something all the time. Fuck that noise. When you get an opportunity to do nothing, take it you freak!

“😭 But I can’t sleep! I always got something on my mind 😭”

That’s called having a brain dumbass. Everybody’s got one. And your brain don’t work because you don’t sleep.

So let me help you.

Ever tried having a pill addiction?

Problem solved!

midlife crisis

I ain’t gonna lie.

I did exactly what I wanted to do for nine straight years: drink in excess.

So it’s hard for me to say that I regret nearly a decade of my life. There were some great fucking times.

But were there regrets? Situations I could’ve handled better? People I could’ve been nicer to?

Oh yeah! You bet!

The truth is, where I came from, I overstayed my welcome. A good friend told me, for my own well-being, that he better not see my face in these bars ever again.

He meant it.

I never returned. Never spoke with him again.

Some things are meant to be forgotten.

But I can’t help but think: do all my old friends hate me? Do they think about me as much as I think about them?

I suppose that we all separated for the better. It just nags me that there are those I spent years with, whose lives instantly got better once when I left.

Of course my life got better too when I left them.

Maybe I’m just overstating my self importance.

Maybe it’s hard for me to accept that time is gaining on me.

favorite quotes from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1739-1832) is often regarded as one the greatest German writers. He bestowed upon us some of the finest works in literature, poetry, and theatre.

“Love does not dominate; it cultivates.”

“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”

“It’s not the length that counts, it’s the Goethe”

“As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live”

“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe”

“If I have a drinking problem, what business is it of yours?”

“If you’ve never sucked off a man while crying you don’t know what life tastes like”

“To think is easy. To act is hard. But the hardest thing in the world is my penis in the morning”

“Nothing shows a man’s character more than what he laughs at”

“Magic is believing in yourself. And methamphetamines are pretty magical too”

“Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do (gay sex)”

Truly Goethe was one of the great geniuses of his generation. Rip 🪦 🪦 🪦

the joker sucks iii: still smokin

As we fall further down the technological abyss, bombarded by competing information and ideas, we struggle to make sense of anything.

With an endless stream of movies, television, videos, and literature, we perceive the world through a dramatic prism, unable to grasp that the universe is impartial to our reasoning.

When confronted with this cognitive dissonance, we double down. And the opportunists in the media are all too happy to entertain our delusions.

In a sense, we are living in the “matrix.”

But perhaps this has always been true, even prior to the Internet. Maybe to live in a cultivated society means to live in a “matrix”, and no one wants to admit this.

Because of this, there rises either futile sentiments of cultural superiority, or need to “break free” from the restraints of society. But they’re both fantasies…fantasies that fuel our collective imagination.

Philosophers and theorists have failed to understand this: “the dramatic progression” that underpins our understanding. This is how nationalists can assert dominance, or how Christians and Marxists share an almost identical eschatological worldview despite being seemingly opposed. We view the world through a dramatic lens, and there are bad actors out there that try to entertain it.

All of this lies in our subconscious, and we may not be able to escape it. Being a part of this human collective is what makes us…human. So maybe the real political objective is not more theory, but to take from Sigmund Freud: we need to “sublimate well”.

Some might argue that’s Machiavellian, or utopian, or Orwellian, or naive, or overly optimistic, over pessimistic, liberal, conservative, or whatever.

With the Kantian blockage…or the inability to perceive the universe in its total, final form…it becomes difficult to understand that multiple truths can simultaneously exist.

Or maybe none of it is true.

It doesn’t matter. Stay pissed off if you choose. The universe goes on.

dr. sí

“I’m Amish now,” I said to Admiral Majors and Izzy. “I don’t believe in violence anymore.”

“You mean to tell me we drove all the way to Pennsylvania from Los Angeles just for you to say you’ve taken a vow to never kill again,” the Admiral asked.

“Yes. I killed a man in cold blood. Not out of justice,” I replied. “I felt pure hatred. And I hope to never feel that again. That’s not God’s way.”

“The man you killed was a bent cop AND a serial killer. Fuck that guy!”

“No,” I said. “You see this,” I pointed over to the wide green pastures. Off in the distance, Amish brethren were erecting a barn. “This is God’s way. Hard work and community. That’s what will get us to heaven.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this bullshit,” the Admiral replied. “So you wanna play hardball eh? Fine. $2 million. I am offering you $2 million of tax payer money to join my force. One of our top nuclear scientists have gone missing, and we have reason to suspect that the Ionian Liberation Front is behind it. You’ve dealt with those guys before. If you change your mind, you know where to reach me.”

The Admiral stormed off. Izzy bashfully stood around.

“What’s her name,” she asked.

“Miriam,” I replied. “She’s a good woman. She’ll make an excellent mother.”

“I’m happy for you,” she said. “I’m seeing someone too. I gave Admiral Majors a hand job on drive over here. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.”

“I wish you two the best of luck.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Goodbye James.”

“Goodbye Izzy.”

After I finished tending to the cattle, I washed off the bull semen then went to the homestead for supper. Miriam served me up a plate of beans and cornbread.

Miriam was a plain and simple Amish woman. We married during the fall harvest. Her father was Ezekiel, one of the community leaders. He was generous enough to take me in.

“Didist thou havest a good day,” she asked.

“I did Miriam. This is a well-earned supper after an honest day’s work.”

“The Lord hath blessed us. I am pregnant with child.”

“This is swell news indeed. The community with rejoice at the announcement.”

We smiled and held hands while we sat around the fireplace. I was loading tobacco into my pipe when Ezekiel stopped by.

“The Lord has brought forth good news,” I told him. “Miriam is pregnant with child.”

“Praise the Lord indeed,” he replied. “I am going to be a grandfather.”

The two of us went to the porch to watch the sunset. I took a match to the pipe. “So what brings you by Ezekiel,” I asked.

“I’m afraid Brother Peter is not doing well,” he said. “He won’t likely survive through the night.”

“That’s a shame. Miriam and I shall pray on it.”

“Unfortunately, I bring more bad news. Bandits have returned and stole four more chickens. We don’t have the funds to replace them. I’m afraid that we are having trouble feeding the children and the harvest isn’t bringing what we need. Times are hard indeed.”

“The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away,” I said.

“I wish someone would do something about these bandits. They have drained all of our resources for the winter,” Ezekiel said.

I puffed on the pipe and rocked in the chair. “I’m sure the Lord will provide.”

That night I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned. I sat up and kissed Miriam on the forehead while she peacefully slept.

I grabbed a shovel and hid behind the chicken coup while I waited for the bandits. I heard twigs snapping and bushes rustling. They were close.

“Stop right there or I’ll bash your head in,” I told the two bandits.

They laughed. “You’re Amish,” they said. “You can’t hurt us.”

“Grab my cock and find out,” I replied, referring to the rooster.

We had a stare down. I waited for one of them to make a move. One went for his pistol and I smashed the shovel right on his dick.

“My dick,” he yelled.

The other one leapt at me and I knocked his clean off his shoulders. Blood sprayed all over the coup. I went over to the other man laying on the ground.

“Don’t kill me,” he yelled. But I smashed the shovel right into his guts.

I buried the bodies deep in the woods.

I took the shovel and began digging behind the barn. Out of the dirt I pulled out an old oak box.

Inside the box: the Korth 357 magnum.

TO BE CONTINUED