Saturday, December 30, 2006

Trip Mckenzie and the wilderness.

Watched a film, Gerry, today.

Two guys get lost in the wilderness, walk around, talk a litle but not much. That is pretty much thewhole film. Nothing really happens in it. I highly recommend it if emptiness and desolation are your thing.

The film got me thinking a little about dying, lost in the wilderness. What kind of way to die would that be?

That is not a rhetoricla question, I could not come to a conclusion.

The wilderness, isolation and desolation all seem like suitable counterpoints to a death. Perhaps with nothing else to grab the attention and with the realisation of nothing in your future, those last moments could provide some kind of nirvana. Pure and peaceful, divorced from everything but yourself and the moment.

But what if nothing like this could be found, the mind did not clea and the moment was wasted trying to deny the inevitability of an end. Of you became fixated upon some mindless and trivial event from the past or in the non-potential future.

If you look at the proportion of such idiotic reminiscence against perfect tranquility in any life, the odds are that the former is more likely. That is if these things are about the odds at all, which, well I am not at all sold upon.

But still, if it was this way, then it is a terrible way to die. Not because of the moment itself, but for what precedes it. Ruling out some kind of nirvana, I have to suspect that this scenario creates nothing but an extensio of those lously feelings that accompany the moment of death itself. Worthless, endless repetition of thoughts of being lost, which way to go, how hungry, thirsty you are and an unhealthy dose of that mundane postulation and recollection. Meaningless death, preceded by the extension of that meaningingless can only equal a whole big lack of meaning.

And well, death may not be suposed to have meaning but it kind of sucks if your last few days before the event are just as worthless.

Its the mundanity of it all that gets me y'know. So for the sake of anyone stuck in the wilderness about to die right now, I'm gonna pray you find some nirvana.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Trip Mckenzie and the beautiful people.

How the hell do you write anything?

You feel like running around your mind are a myriad of interesting and worthwhile ideas, concepts, perspectives. Fuck... now I think about it I don't even have a clue what I think is in my head.

Now that is a new problem. Usually I am busy concentrating on the lack of inspiration and the failure to grasp an idea when I feel that it is time to write something down. Now when I think about it I am not even sure what ideas there are or what grounds there is for inspiration. A receptacle for inspiration you would think might have some quality about it that would earn it that label. I do not have an idea what quality I could define my mind by, so how could it be a worthy receptacle of inspiration?

Of course this is all entirely the wrong way to approach these things anyway. To search for inspiration, particularly to search inward, to try to produce when you have nothing to produce about, nothing to produce for.This is without doubt an enterprise that is bound to failure. Unfortunately when nothing better is coming to you it seems the only thing to do.

What should I write about, if I was to go at this in a more positive and active manner, what would I pick to write about.

Perhaps the issues of faith vs. reason that are currently a hot topic in the press and which without doubt I find interesting and worthy of debate, consideration. Then again when my thoughts on the subject, no matter how much detail it is possible to engage, amount to little more than 'everyone is an idiot' it wouldn't seem like I have that much to add to any debate. You could just watch South Park for that argument. They are funny too.

Ok, so something inward, a creative idea. How about the 1-way spiral, reflections, shadows and other images of oneself. Walking through a city of cardboard buildings, the starry void surrounding everything and threatening to impinge upon your limited world with every step. I certainly have some interesting ideas and concepts to explore down this road. But I have no idea what any of it is about, what is the point to any of them? Aimless flights of fantasy and depression.

So let us take a similar line of thought, perhaps I could explore some ideas I had a year or two ago about the nature of reality and ourselves. It sounds redundant and cliched, but I was onto something interesting back then, something new and something that a large part of me begins to belief has meaning and truth. Except that is the problem, because that part of me was also driving me into an extremely unstable mindset; beginning to believe my own theories which place me at odds with the world. So probably not the best path to go down right now.

How about I just write about my life. Write what you know and all that. Except my life essentially consists of sitting in cafes listening to other peoples more interesting stories yet thinking that the majority of those people are still boring and lifeless.

How about how boring and lifeless people are... yeah. That would be a fun read. Enlightening as well I am sure. Or perhaps I could take the opposite tack and write about the people who are not boring and lifeless, the people that inspire me or are just good company.

You know... thats not a bad idea. Try to focus sometimes upon the things in the world that actually do lead to inspiration and joy, which make life a thing of beauty.

Perhaps I do have a good idea.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Trip Mckenzie and the 1-way spiral part 2.

Did your reflection talk to your again today?

Yeah. Same thing every morning.

What'd he say this time?

Ah I dunno. Some kind of warning, beware shit.
You know its always the same, you'd think it would be pretty exciting and fucked up that wouldn't wear off.

Yeah sure. Damned reflection talking to you.
Still seems fucked up to me.

I guess so, but its the same shit every morning. Even your reflection gets pretty damned boring pretty damned quick if he can't find something else to talk about. Beware this, watch out for this, look behind you...
The guy's a jerk plain and simple. A jerk who is there every damned morning when I step out of the shower.

You put it like that I can see how it sucks. Like meeting some crazy guy in a bar and he tells you his crazy conspiracy story about the speed of light. Its funny at first but after a while you jus twish the guy would shut up and let you drink your coffee.

Exactly, just like that fucking light-speed guy.
But y'know, waiting for you when you have just got out of the shower. Checking you out whist he is talking shit to you...

Still, guys got a nice body.

Damn straight. Jerk's got a sweet arse.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Trip Mckenzie and the 1 way spiral. pt. 1

Wake up, spirals in my eyes, left over from dreams. Fall asleep, wake up, fall asleep, through hte cycle then bolt upright. Srping out of bed, nimble as a gazelle, fall into the wardrobe. Grab my towel, mykeys, throw my thick woolen jumpen on for decency.

Someday that jumper is going to look good covering a naked girl.

I open the window, turn the heating down. Clear out the stink of sleep and nightmares. Thats it, now I'm out. The door is locked. Trust is for the weak.

Brush teeth, shower on, piss, shower, relief. As ever I leave my towel out of reach so I have to drip dry before stepping across the room. Leave no trace, have no presence, court existence but don't embrace.

I wonder if I need to shave, I don't care but perhaps I shall meet someone today who does. Perhaps I will care whether they do.

Wipe the condensation off the glass, check my posture, work the core. Admire my cock before it goes down unappreciated. I look at my face, it looks back and says:

"Be wary, be careful, be warned. Don't trust us."

Fuck you. Wrap the towel around, cover myself with my jumper. Back to my room.