life is change, as mine is now reminding me. This is a journal of sorts, somewhere for me to write about what's on my mind. I'm making it a blog because the small potential for others reading it will force me to put more effort in, and current computer troubles have taught me the value of not being dependent on my own hard drive(s). (Not that blogger is infallible either.)
So what will it be? Mostly me talking about myself and how I feel, with occasional political or cultural criticisms thrown in. The odds are I'll let this die quickly, but I need to get back to writing as a habit and not a task, and this is the best way I can think of to do that at this particular moment. I'm not going to write about my day or what I had for dinner or how I feel about the last date I went on, I'm not so self-involved as to think that's of any potential importance to others. Instead I want to draw reflections from myself on what it means to watch the American dream's corpse circling the drain of a toilet like a discarded pet goldfish, albeit from a generally cushioned perspective. Hunter Thompson used to wonder aloud in his work what the events he was chronicling were doing to those of us growing up during them, how they were shaping and warping us. For me, the effect, particularly since Bush was installed in the White House, is best summed as a distrust of success and happiness. While I don't mean to disparage everyone who has found wealth and achievement in the hideous decade that, hopefully, will come to be known as the Zeros, the question I keep wanting to ask many of my peers, my friends, even one or two women I've loved is "how can you participate in this?".
And bear in mind, I don't say this out of envy. I am a child of privilege, my family is not in that top 1% that increasingly rules the world, but I've had every advantage and mostly either fucked them up or chosen not to fully embrace them out of a self-indulgent attempt at honorable self-loathing. I'm not proud or bragging, but that is where I come from. I'm used to having things given to me, but I have enough of a shred of a soul not to do as so many of my peers have and go into finance or the corporate ladder or marketing and remain entirely in the bubble of our economic class. Instead I'm a cranky loner, hiding in a bubble of my own making.
So why do you care? Fuck if I know, you probably shouldn't. If this blog turns into anything, maybe I'll find an answer. If not, well, not many will likely ever read it anyway. Self-promotion isn't my thing, and I'm not even going to mention this over at FMM until I've satisfied myself that there's something here worth pointing others to. The truth is this blog is about me because it's for me, at least right now, until I find another purpose for it. A body in motion tends to remain in motion, and right now all I'm trying to do is give myself a push, and start moving in a slightly different direction.
The next few posts will be me rambling about general topics which I can't help but obsess over, primarily the political and cultural values which currently rule the roost and are, in my view, pushing our society towards collapse. This will inevitably involve me talking about my own personal history, both because my experiences shape my beliefs and because I find them relevant. I grew up with and went to boarding school with children of even greater privilege than mine, and it gives me insight into the mindset of the banking and corporate class which, like it or not, is firmly in control today. It also gives me the chance to look at myself and challenge those elements of that mindset which I've internalized. I'm very open to feedback here, especially of the critical kind. All I ask is you try to say more than "fuck you, rich boy" if possible, not to deny the validity of that response. I might not agree, but I promise to listen.
I also hope that this will be the most self-involved post I make here, and the most serious in tone. When I'm at my best I'm some combo of outrageous, amusing, and enlightening, and I hope I can bring some of that to this. I'm not going to drone on about the many ways I loathe myself, nor will I lecture about Why I'm Right. My goal is to explore, and move myself forward. Hopefully a few others will find reason to check in on my journeys, but for now I just want to please myself. Diogenes the Cynic was reported to have literally pleasured himself in public, I take some comfort in knowing that no matter how self-indulgent I get, I haven't gone that far.
And that's enough me, my, and I for tonight, oof.