I
want to start this blog with the phrase, “I just decided that when
I have children, they won't be consuming digital media without me.”
But that's bullshit, isn't it. Sadly, but yes, it is. Who the fuck
has the time to raise a kid and be there every step of the way until
the child is of thinking age? – ten or eleven I guess – no
one.
I have a lot of trouble responding to 'conspiracy theories' – look at that, I have trouble even deciding on a tone with which to say the words themselves. Conspiracy theories: they stand out in my mind as the great determiners of gullibility. To claim something like we never landed on the moon, seems to me to be so out-and-out ridiculous, while also being so enormously inconsequential that my brain audibly bleeds every time someone says, “but DUDE, whyyyyyy is the flag waving?” SHUT THE FUCK UP.
But then, when I'm presented with something like the article I just read, about a meeting that one music industry head apparently went to in 1991 that determined the direction of rap music from the conscious rap of the late 80s to the gangsta, criminal vibe that started to prevail in the mid 90s... when I'm presented with that, well I can't help but sit up and pay attention. Why? What is this suspicion? What do I really think is going on?
I've often said to myself, and in arguments with others, that I sternly believe humans to be too stupid and disorganized to be able to perpetrate the kinds of whole-world control conspiracies that people like Alex Jones talk about. Even controlling hundreds of millions of people seems a bit far-fetched in my opinion, we just don't have the organizational skills to get such complex schemes up and running, especially not in total secrecy, for hundreds of years ongoing. If we can't even create Western Democracies that can effectively represent the interests of the people in their governance, then how can we really suspect that there are a small group of people capable of infiltrating our minds and telling us what to think? We can't even figure out what brand of butter to buy.
But then why does my sense of deep paranoia persist. I have answered my questions, apparently; why do I have to keep answering them over and over again, every day, why can't I just let it rest?
For fuck's sake.
It's interesting that the genre-defining comic at the moment, Louis CK, has an act that – for the first time in the history of genre-defining comics (Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, Richard Pryor, Bill Hicks...) – openly admits to flaws and inferiorities. He openly admits in his act that he is part of the problem, rather than simply pointing out the problem, and saying, “hey, isn't that fucked up?” Maybe we are finally reaching the point as a race where we are unable to fight the overwhelming pressures of conformity, as our spirits fold and snap, and our once-lived lives, give way to a wasted, zombie-death existence. Maybe. Sometimes that's what I think anyway.
I should write a last few lines about fighting harder or something. Whatever. Sometimes I think it's too late.
Peace, Taco.
I have a lot of trouble responding to 'conspiracy theories' – look at that, I have trouble even deciding on a tone with which to say the words themselves. Conspiracy theories: they stand out in my mind as the great determiners of gullibility. To claim something like we never landed on the moon, seems to me to be so out-and-out ridiculous, while also being so enormously inconsequential that my brain audibly bleeds every time someone says, “but DUDE, whyyyyyy is the flag waving?” SHUT THE FUCK UP.
But then, when I'm presented with something like the article I just read, about a meeting that one music industry head apparently went to in 1991 that determined the direction of rap music from the conscious rap of the late 80s to the gangsta, criminal vibe that started to prevail in the mid 90s... when I'm presented with that, well I can't help but sit up and pay attention. Why? What is this suspicion? What do I really think is going on?
I've often said to myself, and in arguments with others, that I sternly believe humans to be too stupid and disorganized to be able to perpetrate the kinds of whole-world control conspiracies that people like Alex Jones talk about. Even controlling hundreds of millions of people seems a bit far-fetched in my opinion, we just don't have the organizational skills to get such complex schemes up and running, especially not in total secrecy, for hundreds of years ongoing. If we can't even create Western Democracies that can effectively represent the interests of the people in their governance, then how can we really suspect that there are a small group of people capable of infiltrating our minds and telling us what to think? We can't even figure out what brand of butter to buy.
But then why does my sense of deep paranoia persist. I have answered my questions, apparently; why do I have to keep answering them over and over again, every day, why can't I just let it rest?
For fuck's sake.
It's interesting that the genre-defining comic at the moment, Louis CK, has an act that – for the first time in the history of genre-defining comics (Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, Richard Pryor, Bill Hicks...) – openly admits to flaws and inferiorities. He openly admits in his act that he is part of the problem, rather than simply pointing out the problem, and saying, “hey, isn't that fucked up?” Maybe we are finally reaching the point as a race where we are unable to fight the overwhelming pressures of conformity, as our spirits fold and snap, and our once-lived lives, give way to a wasted, zombie-death existence. Maybe. Sometimes that's what I think anyway.
I should write a last few lines about fighting harder or something. Whatever. Sometimes I think it's too late.
Peace, Taco.
No comments:
Post a Comment