I’m in the (de)construction business

DFW warned about the easy access of entertainment.  And he’s not wrong. It’s a scary drug, pleasure.   It’s deceptive and generally lacking so it holds a certain power.  But the Internet was even more than the Bandana-spand-Your-Horizons-Prophet could foresee.  The physical-via-digital answer to the question of shared experience.  For once, you can see behind the eyes from the same angle to an event that someone else called theirs.  Shared experience.  Which is more a question of perspective than attendance. I’m watching a digital imprint of a competitive (see: worth-the-effort) Counterstrike match thinking about the weak writing in The Brothers Grimm with a stroke-faced Heath Ledger and considering  the question of magnitude.  I’m engaged in a world I’m creating just by some flippant effort born by a guilt of moral convenience while watching a world constructed, saturated with refreshingly folk meaning, from the perspective of 10 individuals overlayed with simultaneous meta-aware commentary track. Simultaneous and casually displayed with a grace that has a divine mechanism of modern grace.  AN anxiety born and shared between multiple minds over pre-agreed rules that are laughably absurd when overheard.  Such a microcosm for our digital stroll down the downtown city street, juxtaposed with wealth-reconciled-values and need-reconciled-values. Though we deal much more in terms of convenience than anything so real as the home-less; those whom ease is a respite in place of guaranteed right, the mere over-spilling of experience ( See: stimulation, in post-neology: a means of measuring influence over a transient environment. archaic: knowledge) is to be assuredly more than my ancestors, even within the past generation, could have dreamt of incorporating.  We reside in a  world so abstracted and compacted that we have collectively sold chunks of our soul away; “Why should I remember when ___’s birthday is when (WhateverNameTheBeastCallsItself)  will remind me?”. And s/he’s not wrong.  Why bother with this romantic notation that remembering packets of information in the tradition of our beautifully accidental thinking-mass precursors, that is to say “biologically” is somehow preferential? We are now as a western society coming to understand multiplicity.  We are soul and body and digitized.  We are spiritual and carnal in the same amorous stare.  The world we live in has been expounded into multiverses and Timelines and simulcrum deigned towards nostalgia for a time we should have never known. And the known universe has never felt more vibrant, so perceived.  We thinking mass have created and solved problems contained within our stretch of the time-share in a beautiful exercise in arbitration. We have become the gods, the superheroes of our collective-thought’s youth: we alone build/destroy (they’re really the same action, separated by distance)  explanations. We have become death, destroyer of worlds; but just to clarify, it’s to make room for affordable housing.  We are constantly evolving at a super-physical rate, existentially, to a degree that un-clouds the future: digitized humanity.  The Oneness that real-izes itself, creepily close to those inconvenient predictions of those sun-stirred fools.  The existential cement that blends like-to-unlike in an obviously retroactive fix, unprepared for.


Due to a psychosomatic closure withdrawal, I’ve forgotten how to end things. Please forgive me and imagine a character driven by ____ and with a burning _____ and I’m sure you’ll arrive at the same place I was shooting for!

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