(no subject)
Some people hate the rain. My initial reaction is misunderstanding, but that is short-sighted. I understand perfectly the connection of external stimuli to emotion based on previous experience and recurrent symbolism in the collective unconscious. After all, who wants to establish their own semiotic paradigms through new thought? What is the point of some chaotic experiment in nonsense and visual gibberish?
Yet, people look in awe at surrealist paintings because they understand it is the context for such visual juxtapositions that go against the norm. I say: you can see it everywhere if you try. You can see a graveyard not as a reminder of death but as a reminder that it's not too late to live. You can see monsters not as harbingers of fear but as the frailty of suffering once your vision is unobscured and you understand everything will ultimately be OK. You can see a chivalric knight not as a protector of good but rather a remnant of a diseased, dark age when women were sold off like iPods.
You can see a tree not as a symbol of environmental conservation but as an irking, tiresome, monotonous existence stretched out for far too long in its chemical repetition--a dull life saturated in sameness. You can see eyes not as the means for which to interpret the world but as the means for which to project the world. You can see dark sunglasses not as an accessory of cool but as a mask of avoidance and distance. You can see human industrialization not as a lifeless void of indifference but as yet another complex mutation in the natural evolution of the world; it is the arrogance of humanity which makes it seem somehow different from the rest.
You can see numbers not as the methodical rigidity of our reality but as the wondrous unknown as seen by strings of digits like pi which stretch equally as far as the imagination: infinite use of finite means. You can see words not as the capability of expression but as the desperate yearning to connect with another in any way possible but ultimately stopping short, like the atoms of a kiss are repelled by electrons. You can see Wal-mart not as the American abyss of unenlightened assholes but rather a bastion of simple-living folk just trying to save a buck through a fucking price rollback for their child's college education that they themselves never had a chance to receive. You can see the sun not as lovely rays of hope but as the burning fury of a remorseless despot that demands all to worship his radiance, and who both nurtures and murders his people simultaneously.
And the rain. You can see the rain not as a downpour of darkness ruining your day, but as a beautiful and constant reminder that all troubles come and go, and that without the darkness the light would have no meaning. The two are intertwined in a cycle that we are inevitably conjoined within, and without appreciation of both we are sure to end up either some psychotic sap lost in destructive dreams, or some Machiavellian masochist lost in destructive action. It's better to end up lost: lost somewhere in-between extremes, ceaselessly searching for meaning that will never come until death. Because distraction is the purpose of human life. And you can see distraction not as some pointless road to nothingness, but as the means of which one can go on and accept the indifference of the universe and simply live and love and dream and be.
Or you can just hate the rain, and go about your day. That is probably the easier route to distraction. We all end up at the same destination, after all.
Yet, people look in awe at surrealist paintings because they understand it is the context for such visual juxtapositions that go against the norm. I say: you can see it everywhere if you try. You can see a graveyard not as a reminder of death but as a reminder that it's not too late to live. You can see monsters not as harbingers of fear but as the frailty of suffering once your vision is unobscured and you understand everything will ultimately be OK. You can see a chivalric knight not as a protector of good but rather a remnant of a diseased, dark age when women were sold off like iPods.
You can see a tree not as a symbol of environmental conservation but as an irking, tiresome, monotonous existence stretched out for far too long in its chemical repetition--a dull life saturated in sameness. You can see eyes not as the means for which to interpret the world but as the means for which to project the world. You can see dark sunglasses not as an accessory of cool but as a mask of avoidance and distance. You can see human industrialization not as a lifeless void of indifference but as yet another complex mutation in the natural evolution of the world; it is the arrogance of humanity which makes it seem somehow different from the rest.
You can see numbers not as the methodical rigidity of our reality but as the wondrous unknown as seen by strings of digits like pi which stretch equally as far as the imagination: infinite use of finite means. You can see words not as the capability of expression but as the desperate yearning to connect with another in any way possible but ultimately stopping short, like the atoms of a kiss are repelled by electrons. You can see Wal-mart not as the American abyss of unenlightened assholes but rather a bastion of simple-living folk just trying to save a buck through a fucking price rollback for their child's college education that they themselves never had a chance to receive. You can see the sun not as lovely rays of hope but as the burning fury of a remorseless despot that demands all to worship his radiance, and who both nurtures and murders his people simultaneously.
And the rain. You can see the rain not as a downpour of darkness ruining your day, but as a beautiful and constant reminder that all troubles come and go, and that without the darkness the light would have no meaning. The two are intertwined in a cycle that we are inevitably conjoined within, and without appreciation of both we are sure to end up either some psychotic sap lost in destructive dreams, or some Machiavellian masochist lost in destructive action. It's better to end up lost: lost somewhere in-between extremes, ceaselessly searching for meaning that will never come until death. Because distraction is the purpose of human life. And you can see distraction not as some pointless road to nothingness, but as the means of which one can go on and accept the indifference of the universe and simply live and love and dream and be.
Or you can just hate the rain, and go about your day. That is probably the easier route to distraction. We all end up at the same destination, after all.