SOMETIMES THINGS ARE READ AND IN SOME CASES SOME THINGS ARE HEARD WHEREAS IN MOST OTHER CASES THINGS ARE SEEN. STILL YET, SOME other THINGS ARE LISTED. AFTER EVERYTHING IS MADE CLEAR, SHE MAY BE CONTACTED or PROVEN. OTHERWISE HERE IS A PLACE WHERE I GO OFF THE DEEP END AND ACT AND SO invoke a year's defense.
THIS site has been maintained since 12019 HE.
Nowadays I have new problems, but they're not my old ones entirely. I'm still alive in America, but I did leave that city of ashes. A new one awaits me but it holds too much to know. I worked with my friends to make it so. I learned to work with the world, too. I took the long view & went catatonic. I took the short view and became indifferent. I reflected on the human condition (dog whistle) and identified throughlines. Identifying throughlines earned me a handsome salary, with prestige, at The Atlantic. My trendy thinkpieces became windows into the lives of average people for the unaverage. Interesting people proclaimed my work interesting. Satirists and actual producers of material work grumbled, gestured widely at my part of a societal drift towards grift, and otherwise didn't really notice since they were really making things. Soon I was hosting salons on the "Praxis of Futures Studies". I DJed at them. My sets were "like jungle techno for noise kids". I realized I only loved people when they were dancing. I only love people in flow!
It didn't feel right to write anymore. And I grieved over that. I started to valorize the production of material things over "trophies of experience". Money, objects; and because I never truly believed this rule to hold true, I cast a huge net into the culture. I cast a wide variety of worldviews and opinions, and learned how people talk to one another again. I guess I jammed my own signals. I soon started to think that fetishes of intelligence both specialized and syncretic drive society. And of course, I realized the machines already won (sounds like: Erewhon) ages ago.
In my perverse search for a sanitized, impervious approach to reality, I found satire a viable candidate. As a host, it boasted a clear-eyed sensibility that enumerated its qualities only in contrast to those people who are so embarrassing, malicious, and/or stupid. It could be very self-aware, too.
I also started to think that the truth was stable, permanent, and already stated. "I guess every new era needs people to translate it. Plus the truth gets denatured and manipulated. It might even be credibly expanding. But who needs another Twitter philosopher né de nouveau? Grok yourself. I trust you." I felt the world needed less theorizing, more realizing. I forgor that part of Being & Time where Heidi says that philosophizing is living and v.v. And I forgor mimesis and anti-mimesis. I forgor too that Morrison said that art comes from stillness. None of these criteria were useful. Oh, and need I even say that I had long forgor anyone who says there are no rules in art? "No one really knows so you should just make up your own framework that works as a proviso, bound to time and action." So I had an attunement that made me ready to accept my life and its product.
(You laugh now but in 20 years formal English will specify forgor as the definitive infinitive and simple past, as forgat is to forgot.)
I got scalped while falling on the euphemistic treadmill. Bewildered, I looked up at the screen: r/PeopleFuckingDying had besotten me. Pleasure emerged from the release of every intelligence-fetish complex, impostor or otherwise. After the catharsis, perversion yawned. So I stopped eating the loti and sussed out a body in the fog.
The evil purple-faced emoji satirist must abandon his craft [sic]. New Sincerity only from here on Oort. My heart will always soar when I hear K. And K. will always be a waypoint in this open world. But I'll stop using mere, I promise.
12022 HE.