Fresh Start

It has occurred to me on a regular basis that life is likely a mistake. A sad unfortunate truth. Like mold in the great petri dish of creation. The existence of life itself, propagating and pontificating its way through the centuries, down to the choices we make on any given day. Perhaps mistake is the wrong word, inconsequential is better. I believe this because from the study of stars and solar systems down to subatomic particles, science has watched and measured the various cosmic rules at play. Creation and destruction are endless but reason seems to elude even the most diligent eye. Reason to me has always only been one thing. The feeling you have in your gut. That feeling is immeasurable and unquantifiable. That feeling stands in opposition to life itself because it’s ubiquitous nothingness casting influence over our physical entirety is proof of our common depravity in reason. The way staring into the eyes of someone you love makes you feel immortal. How courage makes you believe the unbelievable. A simple combination of electrical signals, chemicals, and muscles working together in a symphony to create the great emotions. Fear, love, hate, compassion, all of these are synergetic amalgams born from indistinct root causes acting in concert. Nothing creating something. A la the birth of a universe.

(Yea, it is going to be that kind of post today.)

It has also occurred to me that because I believe this I am an asshole. Not just any asshole but the bane of existence kind of asshole. The guy that routinely fucks everything up without any good goddam reason. Because fucking shit up is fine, as long as you have a good reason. Ask Harry Truman. Regardless of how sweet the whole deal might seem, Gods plan, cosmic purpose, a higher power. No matter how beautiful a lie may be to me it still tastes like a shit wafer. You can politicize and rationalize all you want. You can poll the public. When it comes down to the facts most people are full of shit and furthermore they know it and like it.

I guess it could have been worse. I could have been born a child molester or a right wing conservative, a Chinese slave laborer. All in all living through this seemingly pointless miasma, a cosmic cluster fuck, being an asshole isn’t the worst thing in the world. I have my truth and it is logical. Birth into a chaotic world filled with color and sound, ending in death into a world void of color and sound. This probably isn’t a real crowd pleaser. But it is not illegal nor does it harm others. What it does do is put me at odds with all the people out there that really do care about something marginal. Care bear care kind of care. About saving the planet, or how good a hundred dollar bottle of wine is, how Taylor Swift is a serious artist, how mushrooms change your life, how Obama is a Socialist, Jesus will save my eternal soul. When people preach to me about their deeply held beliefs I feel like I am walking behind a garbage truck on a hot sunday afternoon. Not because I think that they are wrong, for all I know they could be right. The preaching and moaning is painful because they are filling a void in their knowledge but accepting ideas they don’t understand. I might like their ideas but the argument they put together is full of holes. They never seem to considering the possibilities for themselves. Choosing a life ideology should’t be as simple as choosing an ice cream flavor. You can’t buy a car based on the fact that it is your favorite color. The problem I have with a lot of teaching is that you are expected to take what you are given and not ask to many questions. Eventually the answer is always going to be “Because I  said so.” As an example of this last night I had a conversation about a flat tax rate. I don’t believe in one. The person I was debating did, and by debating I mean both of us drunkenly telling the other they didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. My main point was that a flat tax had never been implemented and it was impossible to tell how it would effect anything. This point was moot as far as he was concerned. Not because he didn’t like my reasoning but because it is human nature to assume there has to be a better answer. If not a perfect one.

I am not a nihilist. Although, I would rather share a few beers with Nietzsche than Christ. I am not a nihilist for one reason and one reason only emotion. Honesty, hope, love, trust. I believe these things exist. More so than I believe you and I exist. Evolution has saved them for us, probably even enhanced them over time. In the Platonic notion of the divided line ideas and ideals are the ultimate good. Because you can tell when someone is being honest. It feels different. If you really want to save the rain forrest, not because it’s “the right thing to do” or because your a granola eating, Prius driving, sock and sandal wearing fucking asshole, then I am with you. If it resonates in your soul that saving a bunch of trees and animals on the equator is significant then I would follow you. If you honestly believe that God has touched your life, if your actions are based solely on those teachings then I agree with you. If on the other hand you sit in a pew on sunday and try to pray the sin off your cock and the booze out of your pours from the night previous, I am talking to you catholics, then you are a sad pretender. If you really get off on Taylor Swift songs, if that narrow eyed little piss pot speaks to you, more power to you. Because it must be hard living as a homosexual or heart broken teenage girl. If your honest, if your not a robot, and your not just drinking the cool-aid because you are brainwashed, a mouth-breather willing to say yes sir to whichever hand is filled with the most rewards. Then I support you. Because that is the only thing real in this world. The feeling in your gut. Maybe this is over simplification but I am a simple man with simple tastes.

People joining together to create something bigger than themselves is why religion and politics are such a big draw. Unfortunately people mistake the parts for the mechanism. They cherry pick the ethical morsels they like and leave the rest behind. God says it is wrong for homosexuals to marry and wrong for fetuses to be aborted, says the gin drinking, premarital fornicating, poor disparaging young republican. Pot should be legal and people should be able to do what they want as long as they are not hurting others says the Chinese slave labor product buying, non-profit ponzi scheme supporting, lets their children smoke pot and fuck in the middle of the afternoon at fourteen, middle aged white liberal with a mexican maid. I am no better. Hell I am probably worse then both of them because I don’t give a shit. If I had my way gay married doctors would abort the premarital fetuses of fourteen year old girls on a government dime, while smoking a joint, and using a vacuum constructed by a Taiwanese child that wont live to see forty. That is freedom and that is the mother fucking free market. I take my shots single malt thank you very much. Institutions that promote belief in a higher power, be it of congress or some messiah,  are powerful because they can orchestrate change. To use that power as a tool for personal accomplishment is the only real sin. Congressmen that preach tolerance and family values on Wednesday go out and get tug jobs from strippers on Saturday. Out nation is lubricated by hypocrisy dangling from a rhinestone g-string.

Even if this life is an inconsequential mistake I am not mad. I still have this feeling in my gut. I still have the sound of the world outside carrying out its pointless existence and enjoying every moment of it. It is what ignorance we harbor inside us that is most joyful not what is throughly educated. Friendship, love, honor, devotion, these things are inherent human concepts. They are simple beauties. We are not born tabula rasa. This post might confound some readers, it confounds myself. It is an expression of my exasperation with a lifelong quest trying to understand life itself. The best answers I have on the subject, or at least the best one’s for me, say that it is a pointless endeavor. Trying to explain life to the living is like trying to explain love to those in love. The experience is so intense it defies a label. So we must enjoy it while it is here and not morn it when it is gone.

This was supposed to be my New Years post but the first draft was too morbid, if you can believe something could be more so. Don’t look at it as having feeling, rather consider it a thought or a singular feeling. That feeling of a new beginning crashing into so many many ends. Another year of my life gone, tossed on the burning heap of so many centuries. Another year born, plucked fresh from the tree of infinity.


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