blog

The feminists have it wrong all the time and everyone knows it because they're so ugly--not them necessarily, but the entire ethos, something so unappealing about it all, and there is a certain genius in aesthetics (or some say genius is aesthetics, the beautiful defines the good, though i think that's highly suspect). Ok--here's one place where they (the feminists) got it wrong: god IS essentially male, because his love is not unconditional but whollly conditional on how well one adapts--adapts to rules he has created, how well you play a game whose rules he has set, how well you are his child. I mean this in the basic survival sense. But that is the merely adaptive. Is it me or is the cerebral cortex the prodigal son, the only one out there--born and raised to be adaptive and yet, and yet can be, and is so often, turned towards say, destruction, turned against ones maker and all those laws. Set a forest fire not for timber but for fun. Everyone knows there's much that's appealing about destruction but nobody seems to know why. Some folks swear by it.
That last sentence was false, a contrived afterthought, but i wonder if you can even notice. How much can be gotten away with. This kind of pettiness, this stealing--maybe there's nobility in that too. Intellectual arbitrage, a balancing of scales when no one is looking. A city kid over the frozen river late at night, automatically almost frantically shuffles toward the light at the middle of the bridge; she recognizes this, is disgusted, and sticks with the dark river all around, tries to climb above her fear, that most basic fear.
I can even almost put a date on it: I was twenty and in the big attic there was a big window which on that day looked out into a black windy rainy night and blahblahblah was talking about his internship at cocksuckermotherfucker investment bank and I snapped and said i'm never getting a job, which may or may not have been a lie, but that's pretty much the point....2 roads diverge at rock bottom, where all assumptions have finally been so assiduously un-assumed. one road is a scrambling (to liiive godamn it) and another is a relaxing and floating (because knowledge of the_best_life comes from beyond), but oh no not if what's beyond has in fact looong forsaken you with all your gray matter. all of this is metaphor, of course...because i'm an atheist.