Sep 03, 2005 01:59
"Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies?"
-Rilke
I suppose this is my barbaric yawp. If you haven't guessed it by now, I was an English major. I know, I know. The last thing you need is one more angsty, black-sweatered, coffee house poster boy with a hard-on for Coleridge and who looks down his nose at Bukowski.
Well that ain't me. Except the bits about Coleridge and Bukowski. I love him and hate him, respectively.
Once upon a time, I was a Mississippi farm boy. Somewhere along the way I started to pay less attention to the important details of a life in an agrarian economy/society and started to care more about people. And by people, I mean the general population of this pebble. Why do we do the things we do? Why do we live quiet lives of desperation? Why do we hate the people we hate and love the people we love? So, the weeds started growing on the farm, and I turned my attention to abstruser musings. To skip over a big chunk of time and a bunch of hand-wringing anxiety, I ended up in Anchorage, Alaska, 27 years old, married to a woman that I adore and father to a son who humbles me.
As I post, I'll fill you in on the important details of the skipped over bits. I started this account so I could harass a good friend of mine, drbrewer, but I'll try to post regularly here. Not that you care, or even should care. This is just me, shouting my existence into an electronic void. There's no reason that you should pay any more attention to me than to any of the thousands of blogs on this site. (Except that I'm special, damnit!) Along the way, I'm likely to throw out a bunch of quotes and references to works of literature that probably don't mean a whole a lot to most people and mean the world to a few people. Like the Modernists (bastards) I don't care whether or not you catch the references, but if you do, they'll give you a greater insight into what's going on in my head. Again, why should you care? I'm doing this for the electrons, people.
But, if by chance, by some lucky twist of mere coincidence, I manage to entertain, move, or intrigue another human being out there... well, then I'm truly happy. Because that would be a human connection, no matter how weak, and what else is there, of any value, between the womb and the grave, except human connection?
Post's over. What should you do now? Give a shit about something.