Antiestablishment

LXXX

There’s something seriously lacking here, a kind of emotional gravitas and certain worldliness that would typically be present in a work of literary merit. Something like an experience, life story, general outlook–really anything to provide a shred of credibility for the reader, to give them their money’s worth. At the end of the day, don’t we all want something to relate to? A familiar set of circumstances, a happenstance that numerous demographics can understand, a hardship dealt with and overcome through pluck and grit, you name it. Anything to get a sense of catharsis, a confirmation that life has meaning. But does it really? We like the convenience of relating to the world we presume to know, so we can insinuate our place in it.

There are no magic bullets to be had in this world of grand pleasantries and uncherishable outrages; either you fit the mold or you struggle for all your days to conceive of a new, workable mold that doesn’t rely on sentiment to garner consistent success, creating unobstructed thought as it pumps out originality.

NaPoWriMo: Day 4

Stalling media circuses smell like grandiose gestures made for clowning, not
necessarily a healthy way to spend your last fifty cents. Though most agree
with those policies, I figure one fish against the current can’t do much,
unless it plugs itself into the wrong end of the influential vacuum, cutting
off its own air supply to free all its kind from a straight march forward
through nothingness–they can veer, spin and smack fins at the novelty of
free motion. The preconceived pathway vanishes before their eyes, and to
their amazement, they may putter along in any old direction, even the one
from which they came! The more sentimental creatures return to the scene
of the crime, their once vital friend limp, head still serving as a cork–
precedent and history, its friends give thanks and praise, as is proper.