I have nothing momentous to talk about, which seems proof as any that I’m coming back down to Earth.
Yesterday was understandably tough. The world felt muted and dull. I’ve heard that’s a pretty common experience when returning from a burn. I went home and made some low rent chicken soup. I played Magic: Arena and watched a couple of episodes of Fleabag. I slept. I dreamed of mundane things like being on a bus. Some old woman walked on and kicked the shit out of the Presto machine. Everyone cheered. In another dream I visited an Air BnB. The host pulled a creepy doll out of a closet and told me how she’d performed a seance to summon a demon. It’d inhabited this doll, which if anything may have toned down its creep factor. The demon decided it wanted to eat my soul. I told it that in dreams I always seemed to have telekinetic powers. I harnessed my telekinetic powers to keep the demon doll at bay, but somehow failed to connect the dots that I was in a dream. One more potential lucid dreaming situation wasted.
Apparently the N.F.L. will fine teams if their players kneel through the national anthem. Hah. What a bullshit rule in a shitty sport composed of posturing. If that ain’t the most ridiculous, ‘MURICA regulation I’ve ever heard. As someone who genuinely likes his country’s national anthem (well, the Maori version anyway), all the hubbub surrounding them is fucking stupid. Going back to ol’ Benedict Anderson, the notion of national pride is pretty absurd. It’s a set of geographical boundaries and somehow that’s grounds to treat them as sacred? The cultural milieu that exists within the landmass of Canada spans the entire world. Not only ethnicities, but religious, gender, sexual and subcultural variation. What does a national identity provide for its citizens, enough that adherence to its tenets is something that requires respect? In most cases, nations certainly don’t respect a wide swath of their citizens. Subtracting someone’s ability to make a stand for what they believe in seems entirely the antithesis of this supposed “freedom” that Americans love so much. I don’t give two shits about the game, but the concept of it having principles while subtracting the harmless rights of its players is a total joke. Is the U.S. identity so fragile that it can’t stand up to criticism or questioning? Poor little shaky male egos.
I got bored at work today, so I went outside to sit on a rock. It was a sizeable rock, this wasn’t some Princess and the Pea kind of thing or an exercise in shelving. I’m not sure what I expected. Did part of me think I was gonna postulate on some deep issues? In reality I went from sitting inside fucking around on the internet to sitting outside fucking around on the internet. The only differences being the rock in lieu of a seat and fresh air instead of air conditioning. Then I went on a swing. You forget how much abdominal work goes into swinging. You need to keep your core taught to maintain movement and centrifugal force. Leaning into the arc. Otherwise you get to the top then crash down. No grace. Without grace, what’s the point?
Let’s be real, there was none. I was just trying to kill time. As I was with that last sentence.