I like blogs. I like writing blogs. It’s the bloggers that I can’t fucking stand.
Cowboy: A man’s attitude (beat) A man’s attitude goes some ways, the way his life will be. Is that something you might agree with?
Cowboy: Now, did you answer because that’s what you thought I wanted to hear, or did you think about what I said and answer ’cause you truly believe that to be right?
Adam: I agree with what you said, truly.
Cowboy: What’d I say?
Adam: That a man’s attitude determines to a large extent how his life will be.
Cowboy: So since you agree, you must be a person who does not care about the good life.
Adam: How’s that?
Cowboy: Well, stop for a little second and think about it. Can you do that for me?
Adam: (laughs) Okay, I’m thinking.
Cowboy: No, you’re not thinking. You’re too busy being a smart aleck to be thinking. Now, I want you to think and stop being a smart aleck. Can you try that for me?
They say Mulholland Drive is the best film of the 21st century. I am inclined to agree. I am definitely going through another David Lynch phase since the new season of Twin Peaks started.
He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.
— Dr. Johnson via Hunter S. Thompson
While both deserve the utmost praise, Hunter S. Thompson shot himself in the face, and Samuel Johnson was an obese man that lived with poor health. There is no getting rid of the pain of being a man. It is a futile pursuit that leaves men and women in greater pain. These are the pitfalls and tricks of attempting to sound profound.
He who accepts his pain becomes more than a man.
We who accept our pain transcend being human.
Running from the pain leads to a blind alley over and over again.
I shouldn’t be doing this again.
There is “nothing special” about being a human.
Divinity is a creation of our own hands.
Now, I’m just trying to sound profound, but I cannot show my cards.
We stand awestruck at the marvels of modern-day technology. We say, “We are connected now more than any time in human history.” Unfortunately, I don’t see it. I remain skeptical. We are connected to a state of disconnected egocentric solitude. It is merely shallow and self-righteous back patting. While accomplishing nothing, we give ourselves gold-plated trophies and ensure that our confabulations continue to convince us that at least it is something. Yes, at least it is something as we decay into nothing. At least it is something. A poetic and pathetic something.