Night of the Living

All through the past week, and even from the second I got this job, I've had flashes of skepticism quietly lightning through my mind. All the dollar $igns, numbers, and 401(k)s, and revolving door glass facade, benefits & healthcare plans, or-ientation, drill, drill, drill, silent; the keycards and access, and the modern turnstile-like arms that really say, You shall pass, and the immaculate ornery glass mirrors everywhere, the elevators, the real big fucking commissioned artworks at the lobby of Sachi & Sachi building. And people feeling important. And people laughing important. And people dressing the way they're laughing, or acting the way they're dressing. And talking. Office-talk. That I don't really have a problem with. In fact, things have been really mostly great. There's just something there, I can't find, that's bothering the hell out of me.

I can't help but think of Night of the Living Dead, or any other of those movies that express that fear of existence within a context so well. Money, we just really need it--we need to do this to make money--and so we really just need to do this. And that's that.

It's right, right? It's right, if I didn't have an HMO, I wouldn't be able to get my tooth yanked out when I needed it. It's wrong, and if you just fucking admitted it was wrong, and acted through wrongly, it would be right somehow some measure. But don't say--and then believe lyingly--that it's right.

Shit I wish I could say it, and when I understand it to express it, I'll tell you then. Notwithstanding, so many artists have done it, they know it! See that's the thing about literature--you see?, when can you understand and know that something is really wrong, instead of just something else about every generation feels awry, like growing pains? You say it's surprising I never "studied" philosophy--With literature, a story, you get to know a person, a time--be it from the 40s or 60s or the 19th century--and you know that person in a way you don't even know speaking with a contemporary peer over time: you are vocalizing the words of the author projecting their time, saying the words of the character in your own head as if they were yours and that's how literature lives and is loved. You're getting such a human form of history that you would never get in history lessons--well, generalizing, stereotyping the most conventional ones--and it's a matter of empathizing the human experience, rather than just facts. And from the facts alone, you can't understand, because everyone from then's dead. And once you understand, or at least get one perspective's feel for a time period, that's when you have the ability to compare, understand real differences, and really see if there's something really wrong and what's wrong about it. A ton of artists have known this current trend of anomoly. The Night. The Dead.