:: Epistemological Farce ::

Monday, October 07, 2002

When I left my old computer to a glass-blowing artisan and a schoolteacher (I really did) I made sure to keep all the tripe I wrote in college. I rarely go back and review this jumbled repository, but when I do, it never fails to be hilariously bad, strangely poignant, provide keen insight into a former state of mind, or all of the above. So I figured I'd include some here. Each must be taken with the proviso of "I wrote this in college, and I was probably on drugs". And yes, I know it's a cop-out to just reprint something you already wrote in a blog that's supposed to include current thoughts, opinions, anecdotes, and musings, but there's some good alliteration here.

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“It took me one second longer,” he worried. And his thought twisted, circled. And it became a recursive thought loop, thoughts leading unto themselves, ad infinitum. And confusion beget panic. And panic beget sweat. And sweat beget irony. And steps were omitted. The work was not shown. The rampage of a simple cup of coffee mellowed into the foulmouthed treachery of introspection. Not to say that such thoughts fueled despair, for they didn’t. It’s only the nature of the beast. And the perfection which it feeds stands triumphant, unwilling to concede to the Pandora’s box of other possibilities. But never forget the moral. Never ignore the conclusion. Impossible to find one these days, I suppose. Constantly without closure, the present moment is just ahead of sanity’s grasp. The finest hops and barley brew [whatever it is we've been told]. Derivative to the point of originality, consciousness comprises a maze of neurons in a perpetual state of being solved. Solvent is in a perpetual state of neurotic amazement. The solution is to find a fable far from fearsome, free from flaws. Tools require energy, the ability to do work. If nothing’s sacred, no one’s scared. Barred from bass fishing, Ben bowled over the competition with his marvelous sense of humor. “A real go-getter,” one Miss Judy Maplethorpe was overheard whispering to herself against her will. Bound and gagged, she was bound to try that hilarious gag, until her peers became superiors by leaps and bounds. Nonsense foils the ingenious but phlegmatic plan of the lonely wandering knave.

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h yes children, wasn't that pretentious? Comments and mockery welcome.

Posted by morland @ 06:17 PM

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