Chapter um...1?
Hi there. Some of you may know me. My name is Matthew James Tucker. This is...uh. What is this again? Well the title above has the word 'chapter' so I suppose this is part of a book. Not that this is really a book per-say, seeing as I am about what now...a few sentences in? However that is besides the point. I have received numerous requests that I make a book. A book about nothing. Or rather, in a less Seinfeldian way of stating it: A book that has no clear point or purpose; no true goal or underlying theme, other than perhaps a chilling peek into how my quagmire of mental bellyaching churns out thought.
So where should I start? I mean if this is a book then I guess that rubbish above is supposed to serve as an introduction. So now you know, this is just a book about nothing that is narrated by me, the inheritor of the Sun's great dominion: earth. Oh yeah I said it. Anyways. Lets start with life shall we? I phrased that as a question, as though you have some say in the matter, but to be completely honest with you, you really don't. Tough, that's Life.
LIFE
Life, or existence, I suppose starts when you are popped out of the cervix of your mother via a process that is so visually disturbing it makes watching any of the Red Asphalt videos seem like the Wizard of Fucking Oz.
(Some of you shock-jocks out there are scoffing right now, and saying something asinine like 'Red Asphalt isn't shit'. Well you are a dipshit, and if you think the video capture of a human being's brains getting pasted across the pavement like chunky cookie dough is a docile display the go join the military and play bullet-catcher you sick fuck. Jesus I hate the mtv generation).
Oh fuck where was I?
Oh right, Life.
Anyhow, so you are born right, either via conventional means or a scalpel or whatever the fuck. Maybe you just appeared swaddled in beautiful silken sheets, pristine like a cabbage patch doll. Irregardless this is where you start out, this is the beginning of your spin on life, where you choose what color car you want, so to speak.
(That was a reference to the old board game, Life. If you don't know what that is, kindly play along, as I am only 20, and would prefer not to date myself at this point just yet).
So you are born, and if you are lucky, you get two parents. Nowadays that's sort of a shot in the dark. So hey, count your lucky stars if you got em, and be happy you are not playing pinball between two co-parents via the beautiful system of child custody. Now you have two parents, and you have to roll the dice here. Actually I was sorta easy on you, because I let you have two parents right off the start, but I like you. You seem like an enlightened cat.
Back to business- You roll the dice because you don't have much choice over who your parents are, and believe-fucking-me this is some important ass shit. Your parents are you. Or they will be you. They played crotch-canasta and you were the result, a mix of genes and hideous idiosyncrasies you wont even begin to understand until your first wet dream, or period, as the case may be.
So if you have two fucked up drug-addicted parents, you get the royal screw job early on. Sorry bub, not much you can do about it. I mean I suppose you could bitch and complain like a little girl, but it ain't gonna make the situation any better, and more than likely it will just give you a mental crutch to gimp about on later in life, when you lost it at a deli and beat a bum to death with an oversized polish sausage because he touched your arm. You don't want that shit do you? What's that? Did you just fucking say yes? Or 'Maybe'? Oh ok smart-ass. We can play. That's what you want? Be a big kid early? Tell that to the burly she-man you get to share a cell with as it plays doctor with your unwilling body during all hours of the night while singing Motley Crew.
...Done acting up? Good. Back to what I was saying.
So you rolled a pissant lot in life. You pulled the short straw and you are wondering just what to do about it. Well, there is not much to say other than get ready to do some serious Manning-up. That's just it. No matter who you are, or where you come from, something horrendous is going to happen to you. And no, this horrendous thing is NOT determined by others. It is determined by one person: You. Nobody else has control of your actions or reactions, you are a self-aware individual. Know what that means? You are responsible for both how you act, and how you RE-act. Yeah, it sucks. Somewhere along the line something will happen to you and it is going to make you feel absolutely atrocious, as though the god woke up one morning, parted the heavens, looked down upon our little water-marble and decided to crack open the earth under your feet like a naughty piggy-bank. This thing that causes this reaction, I have no clue what it will be. To each person, it is separate. But we all go through it at one point or another, and with good reason:
Definition.
You get to define part of yourself here. Think of your life like a beautiful unfinished statue, a robust marble alastor finish is applied to parts, but otheres are rough and hewn, and lack even the slightest defenition. This breaking point is where you take your piddly little chisel, and get to make your own mark on your life. It's and important one, so try not to fuck it up. How you react is what matters. Is this moment going to make you stronger or weaker? Are you going to gain or lose from it? And for that matter, you might wonder what defines gaining or losing, stronger or weaker. That is actually up to you as well. ISNT IT WONDERFUL??! YOU GET FULL SAY IN EVERYTHING! YAY!
Not really. Let's all sit down at the honesty table here. Are we all sitting? You-over there, in the Pink-Floyd shirt! Sit the fuck down.
Better.
So now that we are all here, I am going to let you in on a little secret:
There is nothing so tempting, so succulent, so voraciously, devilishly carnal to the truly enlightened person, as irresponsibility. It is the drug of choice here in America, the unnamed aphrodisiac that we love to consume. Why take a stand, why make a choice, why strive for anything more than subsistence, when subsistence now includes air-conditioning and 24-hour fast food?
Well, how about because you owe it to yourself. Yeah that sounds corny. In all reality though, it is the truth. Primates can go day to day and subsist. So can insects, or amphibians, or pretty much any other animal. Animals live on routine and rudimentary social infrastructures, in some cases. You are not an animal. You are a goddamn human being. Your creation signifies the single greatest potential of any living being in existence. Each and every one of us are capable of acts that could shake the very foundations of the planet. Yet so many of us are complacent to sit about and be happy with the bare minimum of what we want in our lives. I am not talking about going to college or trying to win the fucking nobel prize. I am talking about moments in our lives where we are filled with a sense of urgency for something, something we dont fully understand, but are called to it, and instead choose the path of day-to-day routine. I am tired of writing about this now, it has filled me with anger. I'm going to go get some peach-flavored water. That stuff is absolutely fantastic. I'll work on this some more, if people enjoy it at all. Also, I am leaving requests up to you people as to what subject you want me to talk about, so shoot.
So where should I start? I mean if this is a book then I guess that rubbish above is supposed to serve as an introduction. So now you know, this is just a book about nothing that is narrated by me, the inheritor of the Sun's great dominion: earth. Oh yeah I said it. Anyways. Lets start with life shall we? I phrased that as a question, as though you have some say in the matter, but to be completely honest with you, you really don't. Tough, that's Life.
LIFE
Life, or existence, I suppose starts when you are popped out of the cervix of your mother via a process that is so visually disturbing it makes watching any of the Red Asphalt videos seem like the Wizard of Fucking Oz.
(Some of you shock-jocks out there are scoffing right now, and saying something asinine like 'Red Asphalt isn't shit'. Well you are a dipshit, and if you think the video capture of a human being's brains getting pasted across the pavement like chunky cookie dough is a docile display the go join the military and play bullet-catcher you sick fuck. Jesus I hate the mtv generation).
Oh fuck where was I?
Oh right, Life.
Anyhow, so you are born right, either via conventional means or a scalpel or whatever the fuck. Maybe you just appeared swaddled in beautiful silken sheets, pristine like a cabbage patch doll. Irregardless this is where you start out, this is the beginning of your spin on life, where you choose what color car you want, so to speak.
(That was a reference to the old board game, Life. If you don't know what that is, kindly play along, as I am only 20, and would prefer not to date myself at this point just yet).
So you are born, and if you are lucky, you get two parents. Nowadays that's sort of a shot in the dark. So hey, count your lucky stars if you got em, and be happy you are not playing pinball between two co-parents via the beautiful system of child custody. Now you have two parents, and you have to roll the dice here. Actually I was sorta easy on you, because I let you have two parents right off the start, but I like you. You seem like an enlightened cat.
Back to business- You roll the dice because you don't have much choice over who your parents are, and believe-fucking-me this is some important ass shit. Your parents are you. Or they will be you. They played crotch-canasta and you were the result, a mix of genes and hideous idiosyncrasies you wont even begin to understand until your first wet dream, or period, as the case may be.
So if you have two fucked up drug-addicted parents, you get the royal screw job early on. Sorry bub, not much you can do about it. I mean I suppose you could bitch and complain like a little girl, but it ain't gonna make the situation any better, and more than likely it will just give you a mental crutch to gimp about on later in life, when you lost it at a deli and beat a bum to death with an oversized polish sausage because he touched your arm. You don't want that shit do you? What's that? Did you just fucking say yes? Or 'Maybe'? Oh ok smart-ass. We can play. That's what you want? Be a big kid early? Tell that to the burly she-man you get to share a cell with as it plays doctor with your unwilling body during all hours of the night while singing Motley Crew.
...Done acting up? Good. Back to what I was saying.
So you rolled a pissant lot in life. You pulled the short straw and you are wondering just what to do about it. Well, there is not much to say other than get ready to do some serious Manning-up. That's just it. No matter who you are, or where you come from, something horrendous is going to happen to you. And no, this horrendous thing is NOT determined by others. It is determined by one person: You. Nobody else has control of your actions or reactions, you are a self-aware individual. Know what that means? You are responsible for both how you act, and how you RE-act. Yeah, it sucks. Somewhere along the line something will happen to you and it is going to make you feel absolutely atrocious, as though the god woke up one morning, parted the heavens, looked down upon our little water-marble and decided to crack open the earth under your feet like a naughty piggy-bank. This thing that causes this reaction, I have no clue what it will be. To each person, it is separate. But we all go through it at one point or another, and with good reason:
Definition.
You get to define part of yourself here. Think of your life like a beautiful unfinished statue, a robust marble alastor finish is applied to parts, but otheres are rough and hewn, and lack even the slightest defenition. This breaking point is where you take your piddly little chisel, and get to make your own mark on your life. It's and important one, so try not to fuck it up. How you react is what matters. Is this moment going to make you stronger or weaker? Are you going to gain or lose from it? And for that matter, you might wonder what defines gaining or losing, stronger or weaker. That is actually up to you as well. ISNT IT WONDERFUL??! YOU GET FULL SAY IN EVERYTHING! YAY!
Not really. Let's all sit down at the honesty table here. Are we all sitting? You-over there, in the Pink-Floyd shirt! Sit the fuck down.
Better.
So now that we are all here, I am going to let you in on a little secret:
There is nothing so tempting, so succulent, so voraciously, devilishly carnal to the truly enlightened person, as irresponsibility. It is the drug of choice here in America, the unnamed aphrodisiac that we love to consume. Why take a stand, why make a choice, why strive for anything more than subsistence, when subsistence now includes air-conditioning and 24-hour fast food?
Well, how about because you owe it to yourself. Yeah that sounds corny. In all reality though, it is the truth. Primates can go day to day and subsist. So can insects, or amphibians, or pretty much any other animal. Animals live on routine and rudimentary social infrastructures, in some cases. You are not an animal. You are a goddamn human being. Your creation signifies the single greatest potential of any living being in existence. Each and every one of us are capable of acts that could shake the very foundations of the planet. Yet so many of us are complacent to sit about and be happy with the bare minimum of what we want in our lives. I am not talking about going to college or trying to win the fucking nobel prize. I am talking about moments in our lives where we are filled with a sense of urgency for something, something we dont fully understand, but are called to it, and instead choose the path of day-to-day routine. I am tired of writing about this now, it has filled me with anger. I'm going to go get some peach-flavored water. That stuff is absolutely fantastic. I'll work on this some more, if people enjoy it at all. Also, I am leaving requests up to you people as to what subject you want me to talk about, so shoot.