You were born..
...and now you're free...
..so happy birthday.
In a cafe in Olympia, WA... I drink a latte and use a laptop and wear a scarf and POOF!
I realize I have become another plugged in drone of the Pacific Northwest. Swaddled in coffee, electronic media and isolation. The rain swirls around outside and I watch the gray cover everything through the windows.
GrayparkinglotGraycarsGraypeopleGrayneonsignsGraygrassetc.
Inside the cafe, everything is not covered by Gray, it is covered by Ikea.
Oh, I am so homesick I would trade all these co-ops and Obama bumper stickers and ec0-awareness and low crime rates for just a few good laughs over shitty drip coffee at a Waffle House somewhere on I-75 between Orlando and Atlanta.
I can't help feeling.... lately...
that back home, issues were ISSUES! Things to be fought for, fought about, openly wept/sweated/yelled about.
Here, sometimes it all just feels like self-masturbatory, ego-assuaged, regurgitation of assimilated information absorbed from accepted liberal Experts.
"I've read this, I've read that, I know the acceptable things to say and so I never have to search very deep or show my ass about anything because I know all the approved arguments with which to cover it."
Ok. Obviously, I am making generalizations and showing the pissy side of Saren. I am just frustrated by all the wealth of information and evocative text being dangled before my face without an adequate environment in which to process or discuss it. The conversations ABOUT the rest of the iceberg beneath the tip never seem to LEAVE THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG.
..so happy birthday.
In a cafe in Olympia, WA... I drink a latte and use a laptop and wear a scarf and POOF!
I realize I have become another plugged in drone of the Pacific Northwest. Swaddled in coffee, electronic media and isolation. The rain swirls around outside and I watch the gray cover everything through the windows.
GrayparkinglotGraycarsGraypeopleGrayneonsignsGraygrassetc.
Inside the cafe, everything is not covered by Gray, it is covered by Ikea.
Oh, I am so homesick I would trade all these co-ops and Obama bumper stickers and ec0-awareness and low crime rates for just a few good laughs over shitty drip coffee at a Waffle House somewhere on I-75 between Orlando and Atlanta.
I can't help feeling.... lately...
that back home, issues were ISSUES! Things to be fought for, fought about, openly wept/sweated/yelled about.
Here, sometimes it all just feels like self-masturbatory, ego-assuaged, regurgitation of assimilated information absorbed from accepted liberal Experts.
"I've read this, I've read that, I know the acceptable things to say and so I never have to search very deep or show my ass about anything because I know all the approved arguments with which to cover it."
Ok. Obviously, I am making generalizations and showing the pissy side of Saren. I am just frustrated by all the wealth of information and evocative text being dangled before my face without an adequate environment in which to process or discuss it. The conversations ABOUT the rest of the iceberg beneath the tip never seem to LEAVE THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG.
posted by Human at 4:56 PM
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