Thoreau said that most men live lives of quiet desperation.
Lately, as more wisdom sneaks through the portholes of my mind, I find this quote, open to interpretation.
A big word nowadays is "choice." A teacher just castigated a toddler for not making the right "choices." Well, that is absurd but the idea of choice is an interesting one.
Essentially, all our lives will involve desperation. No polls or studies have been conducted to confirm this. Some project the image of being immune to it. The public exalts at the news of Owen Wilson's suicide attempt. My oh my, a life that seemed a life of unquiet celebration, is maybe after all illusion, and he is therefore indeed a man. "Most." indicates that some may be spared but we can't know whom nor to we want to entertain the notion that this is possible. I've met those who seemed devoid of desperation but not known any.
Anyhow, I didn't come all the way to my computer and didn't click on a link just to discuss owen wilson. He is not my concern. I suppose he is the concern of Kate Hudson. They two are of so little concern to me that I am using their names to get hits. Pure exploitation.
Choice? Yes. We all make small, medium, and big choices-- constantly. I think a big choice is to make the desperation amount to something, to make more noise, and to master that noise, make it music.
Turning cacophany into euphony is a lovely thing.
What I came here for today:
The spinsters sisters and mommy henya and their continuing struggle with grotesques.
I accompanied them to a travesty, yesterday. Luckily, it was such blatant travesty, that it will become obvious very easily.
And what dear blog reader does this have to do with lives of quiet desperation and thoreou or even owen wilson?
Well, these dears don't seem to submit to that ethos. An ethos that is drilled into so many, everywhere, and always. It is not just a quote, it is an accepted reality that is mostly followed as if it is ordained. whateva. These dears choose to make their desperation more rowdy and they suffer for it. If I was more like them maybe by crawl space wouldn't be so filled with bodies that will never crawl again.
Barring a traffic ticket, I've never been in a courtroom. And, let me tell you, it isn't much fun. It is just not a jolly place. Lou grant would feel at home there. For Lou grant, like judges, and bailiffs, and all the assorted stone faced actors that constitute a court, do not like spunk. Lou Grant was played by Ed Asner. But, that is besides the point.
The spinsters and mommy henya, unlike mary tyler moore, did not eventually win over the stolid and self-serious. Instead, they "lost." i wish I could bold those quotes because the intended irony cannot be overstated. Incapable of being suitably serious, the spinsters slammed up against a wall of stultifying slaviciousness. So sad, but so silly. Sorry.
Misunderstood and deprived all constitutional rights , they survived. And, here I'll cease and desist with this alliteration issue.
They survived: What does that entail?
The turds are in the tea. The cream must fight the turds to get to the top. The turds are rough and smelly. They hate the cream and they want to float to the top . But, the cream, according to cliche, is supposed to rise. And so it will keep fighting the turds. And, with humor and an enormous sense of the absurd, they will do it while having a fuckload of fun.
Maybe, one day the turds will soften and dissipate and let the cream envelope them. But, till then the turds are hard and impenetrable and threaten the poor dear cream.
This round seems won to the turds. But, they are mistaken. And, I could see that they sort of know it. Wishful thinking. My curse.
No time now to discuss my fledgling muffin business, delmont klein, Hillary Clinton, Comedy, tragedy and whatnot.
Has anyone noticed the dreadful new thing where many now say,"whatnot." Another menace: Bonafides-- suddenly this word said like bona feedes(which i imagine is the correct pronounciation) is everywhere. WTF!
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