Buck Up, It’s Fall!

So it’s cuffing season again, and HIE is gunning to make some changes in his approach to love.  And also in his approach to his career and his free time.  Basically a total overhaul.  Except, I’ve been beaten down by the weight of so many failed attempts to make positive life changes that I don’t have much faith in them.  Also, my library card stopped working mysteriously today (in the app), and the local branch was closed, despite having open hours on Mondays.

Conspiracy? Columbus Day?

Probably the first one, because as we all know, no one celebrates Columbus Day anymore, what with the bad rap expansionism/colonialism/genocide has gotten.  But I will say, those olde tyme explorers had some real fucking adventures, no? I mean, is it okay to leave aside the massacres and shit and talk about all the rest?

I had this book I was supposed to read in grad school, written by a Spanish (maybe Portuguese?) explorer about an expedition to South America in like 15XX (I have no idea exactly when, could even be 1625!?).  Basically it was a compiling of his logs and maybe some other logs kept by surprisingly literate other crew members, and then enhanced and rounded out by some friend of his back home? I dunno.

The only thing I managed to read after the introduction (which, PRO TIP: in grad school it is essential that you at least read the introductions to all your book assignments.  They contain the basic argument and enough details that you can easily hold your own in most American liberal arts classroom discussions.  Which seems fairly reprehensible until you understand that most of your classmates won’t have even done that much, but will still manage to blab away most of your “learning” time. DIGRESSION OVER) was a bit I fell upon at random, possibly on the toilet, written about a grueling long stretch in the doldrums.

Which are this big swath of ocean in which the winds just die.  I looked for a picture of the area on a map and got practically NOTHING in the way of easily digested infographic.  How can we put a goddamn man on the moon, and every episode of ‘Gummi Bears’ on youtube, and not have a nice clear map of the DOLDRUMS pop up for anyone to google?

So, the bit I read was maybe from the first mate and it described how they’d been forced to boil all the leather stuff so they could eat it.  Because they were out of food… and there was a PARROT that they strove to not eat until the absolute last possible moment, because it said funny things and the crew had grown super fond of it.  I think they did boil him up eventually, but were sad about it.  Aren’t old timesy guys amazing?

What I want to know is what the fuck was it like, to be one of them?  I’ve got this suspicion that the average human being back in ye’ olden times had a much sharper mind, especially for solving problems in the world around them, and for making observations in said environment.  But also, were SO CONNECTED to the physical reality around them.  Do you think we could work out that some of the lights in the sky are spinning near us and others aren’t without googling it?  Or that you can figure out how tall a tree is using the angle of the sun and the length of its shadow? And what about how ninjas used to be able to tip-toe on water and slice stone clean in half with a sword?

Hahaha ok ok ok.

But honestly, if there’s anything I’d like to change, and really believe in that change and the steps I may take to get to it, it would be to get back to some of that grounded focus that comes from living in a world that you can’t do otherwise than pay attention to.  How do you think you’d manage on a ship in the middle of the flat, featureless ocean, with nothing to do?  I think you’d do fine, once you got over the outrageous unfairness of your situation.  You’d find ways to occupy your time, maybe carve some wood or make a musical instrument, teach yourself the principals of knitting, tell stories, become fascinated by a talking parrot, and really look at shit. Really see things and their qualities.

How to do that without doing something extreme? I’m sure there’s some sort of meditation class or someshit somewhere.  And I really do think you’ve got to learn to get there without the excessive measures of taking a sailboat around the world, or hiking the Appalachian trail (although that one might be called for, in fact).  Maybe it’s a combo.  Some kind of light daily/weekly exercise to maintain, and then periodic heavy factory resets in the wild? Does anyone know what I’m talking about? At all?  I’ve suddenly got an overwhelming urge to play video games.

This could be you.
This could be you.

It Loses Its Flavor and He Gets Down About It

So, I’ve been digging through my old posts and realizing my life was much more interesting a couple years ago.  There were crazy nights of rejection followed by monsoon-drenched sex, late-night outdoor blowjobs underneath the Verrazano, roof parties and stairwell sex, lots of fucking laughs, aaaandd…. a whole bunch of other shit.  You get it.

Turns out I’ve lived a fucking lot.  At least compared to some?

Who cares. What’s it got me? Maybe I’ll super duper SEO those stories and somehow unleash the power of Google, thereby harnessing millions of fresh, unjudging eyeballz, magically get recognized as a literary powermachine and have tons of fame tossed my way.  All the fame.  Anyway.  I was listening to a lot of old Memphis early rock n roll recordings recently for a job and discovered this gem by Johnny Cash:

I’ve tried to get into J Cash in the past, but I can’t ever get much deeper than the hits.  Continue reading It Loses Its Flavor and He Gets Down About It

Meet Me Tomorrow, We’ll Be Fucking

So, my suicidal, tattooed friend who loves anal sex and getting punched in the face (preferably during) recently had a date planned with a guy she’s referring to as “That Irish Guy.”  The date was basically him coming over.  That’s it.  They were just going to have sex, and maybe order food.  She complained to me that it didn’t sound very exciting or interesting, but she’d already basically consented, so she guessed she’d go through with it.

Another friend of mine (in London), who loves none of those things and gets squeamish at the word “vagina,” had a guy coming over to her houseboat to hang out.  He pushed for a “no-sex” sleepover and she agreed.  She texted me before he arrived, totally dejected and wishing she was having a regular date.  Staring down the barrel of being with someone she hardly knows for a good 14 hours, and knowing that it would probably have to kick off with sex (even though they totally weren’t supposed to) had her incredibly down.

This type of thing is happening a lot lately and I think it’s really interesting how we (meaning, anecdotally speaking, the people around me who are dating, which I take as indication that it’s happening all over a LOT MORE frequently) are pre-arranging sex more and more often and getting less and less interested in actually seeing it through. Continue reading Meet Me Tomorrow, We’ll Be Fucking

Some Things Take Time

So I’ve been thinking a lot about impotence lately.  Totally because of several close calls and one bona fide occurrence.  I’ve also been thinking about how the most popular post on this blog by far was my bitching about how the blow jobs have vanished.  Gone, like the buffalo and the unicorns:

There really is no mystery about the unicorn myth, for what it’s worth.  Skittish-yet-majestic mountain of muscle with one prominent, usually spiral-ridged, horn projecting from where its brain should be? Appears exclusively to virgins or innocent maids? Just STAAAAHP.  We get it. Continue reading Some Things Take Time