Language, Reality & a Bus
If I didn’t know & have a context for words such as exude, or leak, or expunge I would not be able to fully appreciate or notice the nuanced way in which the bus I am ridding in offers up a consistently sporadic stream of red laced spittle & phlegm to the world; interspersed with the unconscious toss of the occasional Skyflakes wrapper. If you don’t want to fully accept such a strong connection between language and reality (Melanie…), then at the very least I certainly would not be able to share these revelations across such an impersonal medium as this.
We are also always influenced by our choices of what to surround ourselves with & out of that cacophony of inputs, what we actually end up ingesting into our minds (note pipe smoking character to your right; Sartre would be proud. That is, if he wasn’t listed under the category of dead white men). I have my current reading of Tom Robbins to thank, as well as the recent union of the Economist, a notebook & a dictionary into a incredibly prolific three-some, for my current indulgences into colorful, verbose, vaguely potentially enlightening prose. But now we have filled our Liter bottles with water so the color of the discharge is a more muted shade of watered down red mouthwash and we can continue on our way on the 12 hour trek to Bagio City in this bus crammed to the gills with wedding guests.
I miss welding the English language like a set of knives in the hands of a well-intentioned, sarcasm soaked, satirical juggler who occasionally slips up & wounds where he only meant to trim away some of the dull & repetitious clouded scales of spoon-fed culture because he was distracted by the unwitting irony of a particular turn of phrase, a sudden bout of internal confusion & existential crisis, or an enthusiastic puppy to play with.
But these Elysian Fields could go up like a wonderfully awful practical joke involving lighter fluid and a lawn…
I currently would describe myself as an anti-capitalist realist with heavy balancing doses of homo economicus pragmatism & the more impulsive sides of anarchism.
Mayoyao Words Swiftly Learned Through Frequent Use & Their Hints at Culture:
Merienda – The choice between ‘Eat to Live,’ and ‘Live to Eat.’
Sayan – Waste, usually referred to wasted political money into failed projects
Apor, Moma, Photang – Various bits and pieces of the beetle nut chew concoction
The bus continues to bleed & stain intrusive humanity onto the passing landscape with ubiquity. Literally painting the town red, no matter for the occasional prohibitive signage in the wrong language.
There is only so long the mental barrage of creativity can sustain itself until the exercise deteriorates into language for the sake of language & the vacuous indulgence for the lack of an everyday medium to outlet or a partner to verbally spar with and so my head begins to fuzz & the scenery becomes to beautiful to be reduced to a distraction.
We are also always influenced by our choices of what to surround ourselves with & out of that cacophony of inputs, what we actually end up ingesting into our minds (note pipe smoking character to your right; Sartre would be proud. That is, if he wasn’t listed under the category of dead white men). I have my current reading of Tom Robbins to thank, as well as the recent union of the Economist, a notebook & a dictionary into a incredibly prolific three-some, for my current indulgences into colorful, verbose, vaguely potentially enlightening prose. But now we have filled our Liter bottles with water so the color of the discharge is a more muted shade of watered down red mouthwash and we can continue on our way on the 12 hour trek to Bagio City in this bus crammed to the gills with wedding guests.
I miss welding the English language like a set of knives in the hands of a well-intentioned, sarcasm soaked, satirical juggler who occasionally slips up & wounds where he only meant to trim away some of the dull & repetitious clouded scales of spoon-fed culture because he was distracted by the unwitting irony of a particular turn of phrase, a sudden bout of internal confusion & existential crisis, or an enthusiastic puppy to play with.
But these Elysian Fields could go up like a wonderfully awful practical joke involving lighter fluid and a lawn…
I currently would describe myself as an anti-capitalist realist with heavy balancing doses of homo economicus pragmatism & the more impulsive sides of anarchism.
Mayoyao Words Swiftly Learned Through Frequent Use & Their Hints at Culture:
Merienda – The choice between ‘Eat to Live,’ and ‘Live to Eat.’
Sayan – Waste, usually referred to wasted political money into failed projects
Apor, Moma, Photang – Various bits and pieces of the beetle nut chew concoction
The bus continues to bleed & stain intrusive humanity onto the passing landscape with ubiquity. Literally painting the town red, no matter for the occasional prohibitive signage in the wrong language.
There is only so long the mental barrage of creativity can sustain itself until the exercise deteriorates into language for the sake of language & the vacuous indulgence for the lack of an everyday medium to outlet or a partner to verbally spar with and so my head begins to fuzz & the scenery becomes to beautiful to be reduced to a distraction.
posted by george at 1:00 PM
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