You're supposed to do it every day.
According to Tolstoy happy people are not as interesting as miserable people.
(somewhat crude translation from the translated Russian)
I'm having trouble dissimulating my own situation here, Really I'd like to crow about my success.
Never having made more than 24Gs in my dirty, bloody, working life, I still manage to live in a nice large house surrounded by trees, by the lake, with a great view of Paul Allen's ranch.
I still managed to accumulate a million bucks (more actually) of real estate that provides me a capitalist's income from supplying other people with a survival commodity.
I got a wife with a good job and her own fortune, I could be one of those men in a Jane Austen book who are not quite good enough for the upper crust girlies, and who'd want 'em
Or I could be a capitalist pig parasite sucking the blood out of the proles.
Or a feudal lord fleecing my flock of peasants.
I don't really have to give a damn about anything.
Not the SSO
Not Gerry Schwarz (I never could tell the difference between a good performance or a bad performance, anyway)classical music all sounds the same to me anyway.
I don't even know what a conductor does, really.
Or an "artistic director"
I don't have to give a damn about "human resources directors"
I don't have to give a damn about certain persons' traumatic pasts, even when they surface to destroy something I was trying to take seriously.
I don't need to care whether my "music" is worth a damn to anyone.
Or whether I have any "talent"
I'm alright, Jack.
I've done my best to fulfill any "obligations" to society. If "society" don't like me, society can buss my fundament.
"K 231" as Mozart once put it.
Not that I'm totally without sympathy for all the little people I float above.
It's more of a practical thing.
Why should I go to any trouble for a drowning person when all I'll get for it is punched out and maybe sued for some made up legal nonsense?
Why should I care about child abuse when it's main symptom is a belief that it's alright to abuse me in turn.
Why should I care about your laws when the main effect is to keep the price of recreational drugs high enough to aid and abet the criminals who profit from this very illegality.
Your idiot factory schools.
Your psychopathic religions.
Why should I try to commit "random acts of kindness",
Or "senseless acts of beauty"
No, I don't trust your society.
And I don't need to.
But I'm not one to brag.
Hey, I did what I could for you little monkeys and you bit my ass.
It heals and I can still walk.
Didn't cost me anything and you lose.
I wear my scar proudly.
Sometimes I imagine my tombstone reading "You lost more than I did here"
I still remember the kid who tripped me in the bathroom of my first grade school and broke a big chunk out of one of my front teeth.
Hope he got killed in Viet Nam.
And, in conclusion, live or die, fish or cut bait, shit or go blind, who cares?
Or do you prefer my self deprecating side?
I'm so sorry, but I seem to have been wrong about that schadenfreude thing yesterday.
Till tomorrow, then.
Labels: Freedom for me and not for you, Peace love and understanding