Where to begin!
Here we go, then.
First, there is nothing mystical here.
So If you are affiliated with any organized religion, now’s a good time to make an exit – fast!
This is more about having a rotten memory and a really bad sense of time and space. However, there are some positive attributes attached here – at least, I think there might be.
For example, if it were about Confession in the traditional sense, then, having a bad memory is definitely a positive attribute, as you cannot recollect what you have done.
And that is probably very good.
Very, very good.
Furthermore, a bad memory can foster infinite surprises, such as –
I said that?
But the reason I came here now is because I was browsing through my stats, and saw what piqued other’s interest here, and frankly, I have no recollection whatsoever of what I’ve written unless it’s in the immediate past.
Much better, however, with images.
Those are cemented to my head.
So when I see the title, “Married To The Mob,” I’m going …
What the fuck was that about? What was I thinking!
The intrigue, of course, is to never go back again, so I’m pretty reliable when it comes to that.
Perhaps, that reliability is propelled by fear, in which case, it may be a good idea to sink into a comfy chair, and start assembling the pieces of puzzle?
Not that interested.
Not yet, at least.
But it’s really awkward when someone tells you they really liked a piece, and you’re praying they will provide the link …
But all they say, “It was the one where you talked about how much you love storms.”
And you’re going …
But which among them all?
There have been so many.
And you fear (there it is again!) you may be mistakenly thought of as stupid, but that’s exactly how you’re feeling, when you try to diplomatically request a link to a piece of your blog.
To this day, I have no idea which storm he was referring to.
You might say something like …
“Check it out. Investigate.”
But when your blog is haunted –
The only thing you can be certain of is that which is not certain.
To believe in the reliability of Uncertainty profoundly piques my interest
LinkedIn almost feels like Microsoft Forums. Have you ever tried wandering through the rooms of Microsoft, looking for an answer to your question? Well they are eerily empty. No signs of human habitation or plant life there.
You are alone in the universe.
But LinkedIn is even scarier, because you see faces and activity taking place, but never do you feel connected there – at least I don’t. People may be looking at you there, but you’d never know it. They may be listening to your thoughts, but never show their own. The seriousness of the site is oppressive. I have no doubt that I am far from my element there.
It’s all about Business.
And I am not.
Furthermore, the thing that scares me about that place is the total absence of humor. And humor is what makes me tick. The darker, the better.
But I suspect humor does creep through its doors. Subtle and unrecognizable. And when it does – that’s when you perceive the sober devotion to Business there. That’s their world. Connections. Practical people. Materialism – not that that’s not important. But not for an artist. Though survival is a matter many artists struggle with daily.
But in that way, LinkedIn is the opposite of Facebook, the domain of frivolity and superficiality and a great disregard for reality. I have often felt NASA could post the approach of a comet toward earth, and it’ll be glossed over – a video of cute cats playing is much less demanding than the impending doom of the planet, less taxing on the Brain. As such, I designated Facebook with the profound thought by Andy Warhol and made it my Facebook mantra …
“I am a deeply superficial person.”
I posted this regularly, to no avail, and not surprisingly. And then I deactivated my account. Bliss followed.
But back to LinkedIn …
Know how they have suggested contacts? Lists and lists of people. Well, this one kept cropping up – a lot like that DUI sign on the Beltway – and I was thinking, once again, What the fuck!
Now either someone outside of LinkedIn has a wicked sense of humor, or, I’m not sure what else … I didn’t bother to check the profile, but simply reacted to its presence there.
And once again, I saw the total absence of humor on LinkedIn.
And I thought …
What a pity.