Art and Artist

I never really bothered to finish Infinite Jest and though I never had to justify why (and not as though anyone would ask) so may as well.

Because it doesn’t seem you can separate the art from the artist. Can Art transcend the Artist, as some are inclined to describe, that the “art is transmitted and they merely record it down”? Sure. Sure it can, but it’s few and far between and frankly, even if they are messengers of god how can I trust they’ll keep it straight when regurgitating it?

Whoever pushed the idea of separating the art from the artist, well I’m curious what was their angle. Probably as a trojan horse.

Now today’s tragedy shows and so you watched and listened to stuff by people who do not have your best of interests. That’s why modern culture is so disgusting. Because it’s ran and consumed by the unknowing: these metaweavers don’t give a damn about you and frankly hope you suffer enough to buy more of their stuff. The more pain you’re in the more likely you’ll buy into any solutions from those pushing them. Choose some Snickers & Xanax.

Myth and story binds us. It kept records… it kept convenient morals and how to function together.

Now our shared myth comes from cranked up thrillers and we happen to watch it together. Got the same subscription, caught the latest ending, unbelievable! Unbelievable!

If you truly want to take back power in your life, you must find and anoint your storyteller. One on your team, or guide the inner storyteller in you at least.

Because of all the movies I watched I’m still sitting here. Enduring the shell out of empty answers, lack of movement, nothing. When the movie ends you, too, may still be sitting there vaguely wondering what’s next. That’s the best case scenario, actually.

Depending on the media, instead of sitting there, now you’re dealing and processing others’ poison. Because when you interact with and entertain the thoughts of people who aren’t doing too hot, or do the finger bridge smile and laugh of malice, you’re going to get some crossfire. Unless the topic is as sanitized as possible all of their thoughts come as a package deal. You can’t isolate a thought. You’re only following a long thread and yarn ball of their everything.

Maybe that sphere of everything wants to strangle you, dominate you. Maybe it wants to swallow you whole, drag you into their cauldron of dead feeling and dull anger. That ball of everything and thought weaves silently and now you’re looking at all the patches at yourself, patches they tie in a way to have you unravel. Or they’re just real sad and that’ll sink into you as something inevitable.

I don’t want that crossfire, no one does and one could argue if you have a strong enough mind you can resist it. But I think this is the key element many dismissed: if you submerge enough into another’s mind, something will stay with you. I don’t want the neuroticism to stay with me, personally.

Let’s sit by the campfire, practice your tale. Shy away from all the propaganda (and sometimes this is hard to imagine, but everything you interact with today, from YouTube and anywhere else, is all a propaganda swamp, everything, everything) and make your own. Start your own state of one, sovereign mind demanded.

I want to make the tales of those I know, and of my own damn life, troubles, that’s why I write. Because that’s what matters, what’s meaningful, my actual physical reality sans news & media & anything else virtual. There’s nothing meaningful about watching era-defining clips, clicking around, updates and whatever since you’re just sitting there. Meaning and immersion comes from feedback, being a part of the world, adding your influence.

To be a spectator is to be complicit in those who want your destruction. Write up your own army and have a most beautiful terrace to lord over, wonder about, invite others, dynasties waiting and the gentry in-fighting.

Remember yourself! To be weary of every artist. Give me the local guitarist before I ever put on another record; in my selfishness I can hear the notes I’ve kindled.

A true myth’s entry fee isn’t because you like it.

It’s because you’re a part of it.

You’re literally in the tale.

Don’t you want to know what happens next?