A lot has happened. Forgive the disjointed nature of such.
Not to me directly, but a lot has happened to people who seem to gravitate to me, just outside of arms reach. I've been running about on business and meeting people, and shaking hands and smiling and laughing and actually meaning none of the above because that's business. The art of making people beleive that you care about helping them and making them money even though they know that you aren't. The ability to make people beleive what they have absolute knowledge of is wrong.
Then I visited friends and family. I don't talk I listen. I want them to tell me something filthy, strange and wonderful. Tell me secrets, make me laugh, make me squirm uncomfortably in my chair, make me want to board up my house and move. Play me some music. Show me a photo. Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week. Vent about all the shit in your life, the world, the entire bloody universe. Dance for me. Tell me what's good. Be heard. I want to know. I want to know everything. I have stopped you from listening to me and I start listening to you: I am your ear and your confessor and your audience.
And in between the two I came to a very odd idea about where people come from.
a long time ago in Swamp Thing, a story titled "The Anatomy Lesson," was what cemented the idea. the whole idea was that A corporation had taken custody of the corpse of the eponymous character, a scientist who was drenched in his own plant-growth-accelerating compound, set on fire and dumped in the Louisiana swamps, only to return as a nightmare thing with his human tissue transformed into plantlife. He's dead now, for good, shot in the head, and is being taken apart so the corporation can recover the compound. But the corpse makes no sense. The surgeon charged with the procedure finds that the body simply doesn't work.
The surgeon finds himself reading an old paper on planarian worms, where the worms that learned to run a maze were chopped up and fed to the other worms, who then knew how to run the maze. And that was it, the man who became the Swamp Thing, isn't in the morgue. Soaked in the speedgrowth formula, he fell into the swamp with the worms and plants and microbes, who began digesting him -- and became infected, in those crucial moments, by a powerful, traumatised intelligence that didn't realise it was dead.
The intelligence of Alec Holland distributed evenly throughout its body. Alec Holland is dead. Alec Holland was always dead. What they have in the morgue is a ghost in weeds, that doesn't know what it is.
I've wonder if that explains some people. That the ingenuity and passion and resourcefulness and the sense of conjecture isnt alive and beating in people as much these days because it cant. these unexplained case of people living through something that should by all rights have killed them. People who see numbers and think colours. Our genius, our savants our undiscovered and unexplainable along with our destitute our feeble and our dense.
I was raised in Britain and that will always be true but my mother was sure that I knew all about my family on both sides and my Apache influence believes in nature. Moreover the intuitive balance of nature. You may think its far-fetched, but nature is a thing of balance. Stars condense and shrink to grow and expand. The universe began with a detonation of matter that expands, and when it ends it will pull back and collapse on itself like a vacuum. Plants grow to die and in death feed other plants that do the same. Nature learns from the changing environment, if it didnt it wouldnt still be here. It changes into something it thinks will survive. Our dead are buried in it and what better way to adapt to the changing environment than to become what is changing it.
Plants need little besides water and sun. Everything else is easily obtainable. People arent hard to fool either they just need the basic parts. Our old and young In the dirt being digested by the planet serving as a drawing board for another evolutionary jump. The brain is just a mass of pulp with no synapse gaps. The lungs are bags that suck and blow, with no cilia. It's a parody of a body. And there, in the muck, it grew lungs that suck and blow, because that's what it knew lungs to do. And a wooden skeleton. A heavy brain.
Its not even really a theory I have just a thought that is far from impossible. When thought steam power was impossible once. Making buildings out of metal, unconditional flight, traveling across the sea, that the earth was round. All of these things were seemingly impossible until someone did it. Now, no one thinks anything is impossible and no one really cares if the implausible becomes a reality. With diversity and borders people have very little to prove and less reason to do it. Diversity as fueled every revolution, war, artistic and aesthetic movement we have had. Without someone to prove something to we are pretty much left to do very little.
Just sit here.
Not to me directly, but a lot has happened to people who seem to gravitate to me, just outside of arms reach. I've been running about on business and meeting people, and shaking hands and smiling and laughing and actually meaning none of the above because that's business. The art of making people beleive that you care about helping them and making them money even though they know that you aren't. The ability to make people beleive what they have absolute knowledge of is wrong.
Then I visited friends and family. I don't talk I listen. I want them to tell me something filthy, strange and wonderful. Tell me secrets, make me laugh, make me squirm uncomfortably in my chair, make me want to board up my house and move. Play me some music. Show me a photo. Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week. Vent about all the shit in your life, the world, the entire bloody universe. Dance for me. Tell me what's good. Be heard. I want to know. I want to know everything. I have stopped you from listening to me and I start listening to you: I am your ear and your confessor and your audience.
And in between the two I came to a very odd idea about where people come from.
a long time ago in Swamp Thing, a story titled "The Anatomy Lesson," was what cemented the idea. the whole idea was that A corporation had taken custody of the corpse of the eponymous character, a scientist who was drenched in his own plant-growth-accelerating compound, set on fire and dumped in the Louisiana swamps, only to return as a nightmare thing with his human tissue transformed into plantlife. He's dead now, for good, shot in the head, and is being taken apart so the corporation can recover the compound. But the corpse makes no sense. The surgeon charged with the procedure finds that the body simply doesn't work.
The surgeon finds himself reading an old paper on planarian worms, where the worms that learned to run a maze were chopped up and fed to the other worms, who then knew how to run the maze. And that was it, the man who became the Swamp Thing, isn't in the morgue. Soaked in the speedgrowth formula, he fell into the swamp with the worms and plants and microbes, who began digesting him -- and became infected, in those crucial moments, by a powerful, traumatised intelligence that didn't realise it was dead.
The intelligence of Alec Holland distributed evenly throughout its body. Alec Holland is dead. Alec Holland was always dead. What they have in the morgue is a ghost in weeds, that doesn't know what it is.
I've wonder if that explains some people. That the ingenuity and passion and resourcefulness and the sense of conjecture isnt alive and beating in people as much these days because it cant. these unexplained case of people living through something that should by all rights have killed them. People who see numbers and think colours. Our genius, our savants our undiscovered and unexplainable along with our destitute our feeble and our dense.
I was raised in Britain and that will always be true but my mother was sure that I knew all about my family on both sides and my Apache influence believes in nature. Moreover the intuitive balance of nature. You may think its far-fetched, but nature is a thing of balance. Stars condense and shrink to grow and expand. The universe began with a detonation of matter that expands, and when it ends it will pull back and collapse on itself like a vacuum. Plants grow to die and in death feed other plants that do the same. Nature learns from the changing environment, if it didnt it wouldnt still be here. It changes into something it thinks will survive. Our dead are buried in it and what better way to adapt to the changing environment than to become what is changing it.
Plants need little besides water and sun. Everything else is easily obtainable. People arent hard to fool either they just need the basic parts. Our old and young In the dirt being digested by the planet serving as a drawing board for another evolutionary jump. The brain is just a mass of pulp with no synapse gaps. The lungs are bags that suck and blow, with no cilia. It's a parody of a body. And there, in the muck, it grew lungs that suck and blow, because that's what it knew lungs to do. And a wooden skeleton. A heavy brain.
Its not even really a theory I have just a thought that is far from impossible. When thought steam power was impossible once. Making buildings out of metal, unconditional flight, traveling across the sea, that the earth was round. All of these things were seemingly impossible until someone did it. Now, no one thinks anything is impossible and no one really cares if the implausible becomes a reality. With diversity and borders people have very little to prove and less reason to do it. Diversity as fueled every revolution, war, artistic and aesthetic movement we have had. Without someone to prove something to we are pretty much left to do very little.
Just sit here.
bluelight3:
whoa...