i realize that it's sunday. we need a sermon.
Today is 8.4.02, the time is 3:55 p.m.
I've had my share of strange fascinations in the past couple weeks, resulting in varying degrees of action
- Getting big hair. Ideally, said big hair would be giant and messy. I'm thinking along the lines of Robi from Milemarker. However, I am also not opposed to the 'fro look.
- Brawling. Something in me wants to be the source of violence, participate in a giant destructive force. To know I am the instigator of something that flares tempers and adrenaline. Or the best way to put it: Start something that I can't finish. However, early attempts at instigating brawls have been only somewhat successful.
At work, a cook and a waitress got in some good punches, but I was barred from participating due to the obvious fact that that the waitress could easily break my teeth, and the last thing the cook needed was another girl to kick him down.
Last night, I was too drunk to stand up and not contented by the sight of Jake and Frank and Jon exchange fists for bruises. It didn't escalate; the conflict was too constructed.
And now I'm worried that the time for brawling may have just passed me by--future talk of a brawl may seem passé to the quasi-hipsters I hang out with, and the Sunroom has a continuing problem of being too underpopulated to ever become anything more than my coworkers entertaining my neuroses half-heartedly. I need something bigger--I'm thinking a crowded bar. However, I think strangers might not understand how extremely cool it would be if I could be the mastermind of a rowdy clusterfuck. Alas, I do believe my prospects of brawling look quite bleak. - The death of sarcasm. Last night Jon Lee was telling me that sarcasm is not understood. I think it is more that sarcasm is too easy. It's too easy to have cruelty cloaked in comedy. The parts add up too easily to an inadequate whole.
I'm wondering if I can lie compulsively without the edge of sarcasm scraping my inflection. My intentions are to tell an honest lie. Create a fiction and make it a fact. Sincerity can't be the same thing as honesty--if that were the case, then why do we need two different words for the same thing? Ideally, even a bold-faced lie tells you something. It doesn't have to be fact, but it could be true, and it becomes so through possibility.
The problem is that sarcasm is still alive and well. I actually do tell the truth most of the time, so the lies only scrap my credibility. When I lie it becomes a veil to disguise something disgusting, rather than a force to reveal something the truth obscures, or at least flip the truth around so we can see how flat it falls sometimes. I don't want to be mean. I just want to make new meanings. - Writing/reciting extended self-important philosophies that do not promise anything to others. But you knew that already, right?