You can copy and paste this URL.
This URL will permanently link back to this page.
The middle ground. Not Blair's fabled Third Way, nor sitting on the metaphoric fence. The middle ground. Like Zelig, floating, somnambulist in the fog of past, present and future tense. Hard to find a context as one drifts through WH Smith's mega newsagent shelves searching for the elusive zeitgeist. Rudderless, the waking sleeper, in a Tramadol-induced hypnagogia. Titles swim up through the grey fug. New Humanist. Jewish Chronicle. Writers Forum. Zero Tolerance. Belief, atheism, satanism in one fell visual swoop. Still more bemusement. The confusion of competing titles revealing little.
God's dandruff. Higgs Bosun particles. Scientists looking for meaning in the infinitesimal. The titles reveal little.
Back to the egg. WH Smith's echoes my small discomfiture. Zero Tolerance unveils arcane satanism for the geeks who cling to the darkness. Suicide clauses in dark make-up and Finnish miserablism and fashionably bleak nihilism straight from the HP Lovecraft text. Hyper real nonsense, jockeying for position with glossy atheism and its cousin New Humanism. Comedians and scientist united in approval of a boringly rendered future. Nothing really new since Greek antiquity. Obvious stances of the Witchfinder General sort. Spiteful Oxbridge graduates in ivory towered, non-engagement with the great mass of seething, starving humanity. Easy for the Big Pharma-sponsored entertaining elite to talk down to us proles.
What do I know? Just a marginal, gutter cyclist avoiding the twin temptations of the easy cynicism and stoop-to-conquer Dawkins religiosity alongside the mugging, cycloptic light of the New Age idiot brigade. I am empty as a zen koan and as full as a Taoist sunset. Glib theories. Last gasp optimism in a tide of polarities worthy of mental illness indicators. DSM VI for 2011 and beyond. Old certainties and new science still showing a poor imagination at work.
More margins. But then, 'twas ever thus in this new Middle Age. Better to have some outsider view than join a club that admits such as I. Marxism of the right sort. Trying not to be co-opted by the extremities is worth pursuing. Neither a satanist crank nor a righteously hidebound New Humanist. No harm to either as I peddle through the slurry of print in WH Smith's back into the teeming hordes of consumers on Northumberland Street. Christmas in Newcastle. Hope beyond the grand spectacle of bread and circuses for the insomniac, amnesiac shoppers and imbibers of government taxed chemicals and prescribed behaviour. There is hope beyond the cogs driving the invisible mechanics of commerce and faceless enterprise. Gods and monsters? Black looking glasses reveal only more murk. Nietzsche was right in this aspect. Are we as a society blundering into one crises created to keep us spinning the roulette wheels of Sci-Finance? This is Phil Dick reimagined by tedious admen in suitable garb.
I drift back home and try to process all these rallying points. No answers.
Sleep reveals more congruent dreamscapes.
Where does one go from here?
This new Article is not yet ready for syndication. Please check back in a few minutes.
This Article is not available for syndication. Contact BestThinking for details.
Enjoy high quality content through BestThinking's syndication program. Learn more and register as a publisher today!
Enhance your publication, blog or journal with high quality content from BestThinking. Whether you are looking for a single feature article, a stream of dynamic content or just a few pieces each month, BestThinking's unique, customizable syndication feeds provide rights-verified material from identity verified Thinkers.
To syndicate a Blog or Article, you’ll need to start by setting up a feed. Creating a feed is a 3-step process:
About the Author
I am an experienced writer who has worked across a variety of mediums including: screenplay, script editing, prose, poetry,and novelization.
Where will it all end? The nightly rhetorical monologue to the ceiling, From the relative comfort of the bed, Where will it all end? Born alone, die alone. The stark reality is hard to bear. Too much reality, Reality dull and leaden. The fear coming in increments.
It is in those opiated moments, with a few beers and brandies aboard that I said a lot of things i neither care to remember, nor really meant in a sincere sense. In vino veritas my arse, in other words. Ultra vivid violent anger instead of calm serence acceptance of pain. My old man had a high pain...
Art. Three simple letters. Though art is far from simple. The post-post modern, fast-twitch version 2.0 of the notion of culture is often infantile and entirely playful. Playful is fine, in my humble opinion, but when it becomes the overriding zeitgeist (in perpetuity) it becomes tiresome and...
The extremities of the apparent post-post modern world and the bi-polar approach so many appear to be taking. Or so the new media purports?
A brief look at the vagaries of the creative process as the writer comes up against indifference, state interference, slack welfare processing and a whole raft of other problems.
One writer and his peculiar take on the odd business of creating work(s).