January 19, 2006

An Interlude: Stream of Consciousness

one hundred suits all the same to be worn on consecutive years until they wear out or until I do and I shall buy several bumbershoots so I may be arrayed like a proper gentleman ready in the face of the rain that falls eric satie and ambient music speaking not to the immediate consciousness but to that which dwells behind words ambient is not necessary background but context And I shall drink absinthe dancing with the green fairy communing with the images that only the wormwood and the gall can reveal those dark murky moments in the subconscious Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun The Mess Around Ray Charles and Ornette Coleman COLTRANE Yes Coletrane spoke the truth about God, life, death, and discovery of a meaning beyond Satie Yes and I will wear my suits and walk in the rain wondering where I left my keys and if I am in key or if my life is a syncopated stumble where others march never hearing never hearing never hearing the beat of a different drummer I saw a young man taped to a tree the other day Several students watched him as he was bound I cut him free from his bounds with my car key It should havebeenamomentofgreatermeaning but meaning is as meaning does, so Aristotle would have it so much of how we think is posited in what is effected at the expense of affect – a child drumming her fingers in the dark sauntering and singing at the top of her lungs in a casual blues on a Thursday afternoon while the moon is full and high in the sky how horrible that the sun shone in the middle of the night, ruining our fun and that was odd if a maid swept with all her might; if I slept through all the night if you were not consumed with such dreadful fright I needed to do a load of dishes and clean my shoes I should have done laundry but I drank a glass of wine instead this young man was taped with binding tape to a tree nobody asked the tree what it thought – can we discern the deepest thoughts of plants and trees I was reading my cookbook I just thought to take a break to sauté a mushroom or to learn to use a program on my computer –is software the same as a program – I like the Japanese Iron Chef better Julia Childs meets Hulk Hogan lamb battle Chairman Kaga and Sakai dancing with poulet frances to a danse macabre complete with fiddle folk music enfusing life lost in stale classicism are all innovations considered to be vulgar at first who is to say what makes I love venison but could never hurt Bambi’s mother art and who is to say how art develops into a style that is discernable call it a double standard but it is as it is or is it as it does who does is done will do will have done started a dialog in cyberspace with people that I don’t know but call friends intimate strangers dancing in the dark on the back of electrons to music unknown that exists without the benefit of sound is music sound or is sound the metaphor a similie an image of paradise lost found mortgaged and mamachinationsandlostdesirefindingthattheyarelostyetagainde accessible but only experiential but will not climb the cats jump and meow they want food but god gave them music and they did feast and sing and celebrated the beauty of communication beyond the bounds of species but went with insatiated longing unrequited hunger like unrequited love is a bitter thing yet beautiful unless your heart is broken Like a sonata for strings played out of tune no longer well tempered as a clavier but broken like my heart shattered like class on a sidewalk slicing the flesh and leaving blood behind a print of one that has passed this way before a sly shadow that stands between death and life calling us to question what is real and what is or is not on a Thursday morning howling at the moon with a madman holding a lantern at noon shining it in my face telling the truth that there is no truth – contradiction paradox parabolic reasoning reflection refraction reality reason gone awry Words And the rest is silence like Chaucer on the streets the wife of bath in rap bitch use vulgarisms in place of thought and profanity in the stead of wit what is art if not offense what is obscenity if not a break from the norm a devaluation of valued cliches apotheosis of necrophilia and lust for a glorious past that never was howling at the moon like a loon with a spoon singing out of tune and sinning against the will of a god unknown that makes agnostics of us all can we ever really know was Heizenburg right how can observe the truth if emperical method changes the experience and experiment and then there is the issue of my shoes yes I will buy one hundred suits all the same to be worn on consecutive years until they wear out and I shall buy several bumbershoots so I may be arrayed like a proper gentleman ready in the face of the rain that falls