Monday, June 28, 2004


I'm sick of politics. I'm sick of pictures of Kerry on Bush's web site. I'm sick of black and white grain beside brilliant color. I'm sick of trying to decide if sending US troops into Iraq is right or wrong. I'm sick of having no respect for the leader of my country. I'm sick of not being able to make any decisions based on situations, but instead having to make all my decisions based on evaluations and characterizations. Bush is an idiot. Fine. I will see your movie Michael Moore, and I will believe you. Bush should not, under any circumstances be president of this country. But what if going into Iraq was right? What if it was the right thing for the wrong reasons. What are the real reasons? Are the reasons we are told the real reasons? Is Bush really a religious man? Does he really belive that all that matters is God's judgment? I don't want a president who believes that. What if he doesn’t believe that. What if he talks about God, and the Lord, and all that other bullshit because that is what 51% of Americans want to hear and that will win him an election. Does Kerry give a shit about the Catholic church? Is he really pro-choice? Or is he just a democrat? Is Bush really against abortion, or is he just a republican? Did we go into Iraq because we wanted to hunt down terrorists who came from elsewhere? Did we go to Iraq because we wanted more control of oil? Did we go to Iraq because 43 wanted to finish what 41 started? Maybe. But what if we went because isolationism doesn't fly anymore. What if it just fucking doesn't work to go through life dealing with only your own problems. What if it does? I don't know. I don't have a fucking clue. All I know, is that the issues that I want to know about are not the ones that anyone is talking about. In fact, who gives a shit why we went to Iraq. Who gives a shit if it was a good idea or a bad idea. It's done. We did it. Time to make new decisions. What decisions will you make Mr Bush? This is no time for pessimism. Oh, ok! How about you Mr Kerry, what decisions would you like to make? I am John Kerry and I endorse this message. I'm sick of having to blame myself. Why don't I know more about world affairs? Because I don't read. Why don't I read? Because I don't care. Why don't I care? Because it's all shit. All of it. Buy this, buy that. Do this, do that. Go to school, get a job, get married, have kids. Raise good kids. If you raise bad kids, you are a bad parent. If you are poor, you didn't work hard enough. Sack up. I rebel. I say, it's not so bad being poor. I mean, I don't care about money, just enough to live on will due. You know, just enough for food to eat, hot water, clothes to wear, an apartment, a way to get around, a tv, a computer, internet access, a telephone, a sweet bike, a new computer every 2.8 years, money for school, new soccer cleats, some video games, money for alcohol, money for a plane ticket to fly somewhere far away and pretend to live like a poor person in a poor country but all the while carry 400 dollars in traveler's checks in a hidden money-belt. Pick me! Pick me! I don't mind being poor. I will reject the pressures of consumerist society and live happily 20k a year. What about 20 meals a month? I've never needed anything in my life! Some people have, and then they died, because they didn't get it. I'm sick of thinking that. I'm sick of pretending that I don't care about money while I throw a G into a bike and another G into a computer so I can take my mind of things by escaping into another, pixilated, bloody world. I used to watch Behind the Music and get pissed off because all the rock stars had shitty things happen to them. I used to wish something shitty would happen to me so I could be a rock star. I'm an ass-hole I'd crack. Be thankful for what you've got, I say to myself. I try. I am. I'm sick of the chain of need. I'm sick of getting one thing, and needing another. I want to get rid of my fucking doormat so I don't have to shake it once a week. If I have a dirt floor, I won't need to sweep. But carpet is so soft! I'm sick of MTV. I'm sick of their constantly changing logos and transitions, and animations. I don't need that, just show me that OUTKAST video with the West Side Story flavor. I'm sick of Michael Moore. Wait, no. I'm not sick of Michael Moore. I'm sick of the fact that in order to make a biting commentary on a contemporary issue, all he has to do is use entirely real footage and stories and facts. I want him to have to make something up. I want him to take a little less direct root. I want to be able to think for a moment that he is NOT talking about us, now - but at the same time, know that he is. I'm sick of a lot of things. I want change.

I saw a commercial for the Navy. Not a commercial - a paid advertisement. Late at night, for a full thirty minutes. Join the Navy. Accelerate your life. You know what? It looked damn good. Maybe I should join the Navy. Education, travel, money. They take care of you in the Navy. You work your ass off, and somebody might kill your ass off. But they take care of you. Sort of. JG's in the navy. Props JG. Will I join the Navy? No. Probably not. Why? Because I'm sick of the Navy just like I'm sick of politics and money, and fast food, and TV and shoes. That's right. I'm sick of shoes. I have 12 pairs of shoes. I wear them all. At some point, for some activity, I wear each one of them. That doesn't include 2 pairs of snowboard boots, 1 pair of ski boots, 1 pair of inline skates and 1 pair of hockey skates. I'm sick of having so many shoes, and yet, what would I do without them? I use them all. Need them all. In fact, I need a new pair of shoes. A new pair of shoes would help me to be better at playing soccer. A 6-year-old kid from Sudan would be a better soccer player than me without shoes, except for the fact that he never got to play soccer because he has spent his life running from people trying to kill him. If he had shoes, maybe he could have eaten them. Maybe he could have not died while trying to flee to Chad. I'm sick of taking all of this in, in it's rawest form, and not putting it back out. I'm sick of recycling. I'm sick of live footage being shown over and over again until it is dead. I want something new. Take it, change it, show it. Do something. I want art. I'm not sick of art. I'm not sick of taking something, and making it do something, making it mean something, making it say something, or maybe, say nothing. I eat that stuff up. But it's hard, because I'm so full. I'm so full of all the shit they show us on TV, all the shit they say to us. I'm full of highlights. Short, meaningless, clips of image and sound. It is not art, what I see; and I cannot make what I see art. I don't know any stories. I only know punch-lines. Only endings, but the endings are the easist part. Atwood says that every story ends the same. John and Marry Die. John and Marry Die. John and Marry Die. I want more. I want the meat. It doesn't have to be the real meat, or maybe it is. But either way, I want it from the begining, and I want it to go somewhere and do something. All I want is art. Other people can want other things. But I want more art. I wish people would really try. Really try to be craft with their art. I love it when people are crafty. That guy who wants to build a space elevator is crafty. Is that art? The blitzkrieg was pretty crafty. Was that art? Oh, I don't know. I am sick of war and politics, remember? I just want to read Dickens and sit by a mountain lake and forget it all exists. I will forget it all exists except for the reminders that I need. The things I couldn’t possibly do without, like my car that got me to the trail, my expensive backpack, fancy stove, and down REI sleeping bag. My .com bought Dickens book and my cell phone - just in case. Is there a way to escape? Is there a place in the world to go where I can get away from the pressures and problems of my society? Yes. There is. There are many, in fact. The miles and miles of uninhabitable desert that lies along the Sudan - Chad border that is now being populated by millions, yes, millions of Sudanese people fleeing for there life - that is one. Jay-Z has a new video. You're havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son, I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one Jay-Z must have it real bad to have 99 problems. That 6-year old, the one with no shoes, he only had 3 problems: no food, no water, no place to live. As for me, I've got complications. I've got complications that 6-year-old who is now burried in a makeshift grave somewhere in the desert could never have even dreamed of. Complications are something I have a lot of. My guess is, Jay-Z has even more. And I bet he's right, a bitch ain't one. But problems? Who am I kidding. I don't have problems. I've got a hundred million solutions and all I have to do is choose one, and put it into action. Do something. I know things, but sometimes, it's just so hard to know them. I'm tired. I'm 21 years old with no problems, and I'm tired. Do something. What do I do?


mindovermatter said...

Intriguing post. And refreshing, as I am empathetic. I mean, as much as I can be empathetic and still me an individual that is wholly separate from you. Empathy is an interesting concept. Do you really have to be a 6-year-old Sudanese boy in order to have empathy for another?

Tayden said...

Yes! OF course you have to be a 6-year-old sudanese boy in order to feel empathy! Otherwise it's called sympathy. For christ sake. duh.