Friday, December 14, 2012

Deep Breakfast

Since I heard about the massacre three hours ago, I've had a hard time figuring out how to move on. Things lose meaning and I want to dig a hole and forget about the pain people have to experience. There's a horrific war in Syria, North Korea's launching missiles, ultra-nationalist parties are legit in Europe, and now there's another comfy American enclave with dozens of mourning family members. And it's fucking five year olds this time. God help us.

Frances asked me recently what "ordinary" means. It's the things you see every day, that you are used to, accustomed to. Ordinary things do not threaten or frighten. They sit there benignly and do their regular operations. Unusual things have less definition so it's harder to predict what they're going to do. Muslims. The "inner city". Food that isn't chicken. Ordinary is a safe sheep's skin that things close to you wear, but my experience of reality tells me that ordinary things can be dangerous, or evil, or insidious just like the things that are far away. We accept the risk because really, actually, everything in the world kills you eventually, but it takes a long time, so the nearby things just keep doing their ordinary things and you get the news about the horrible things that happen in the other places and you say thank God I'm not there. God has chosen me and surrounded me with ordinary things.

Ordinary things like guns. Like other people. White people. Rich motherfuckers that squeeze you for every penny and complain that you're not doing your part.

Which isn't to say that living in comfort, insular, safe, isn't a blessing. No sir. Security is pretty fucking awesome. But there is a cost, and someone is paying it.

Hell, man. There's no response.

Well so, either you pass and you're not in this world anymore, or you're still with us. If you can read this, you have to continue. Music helps me. Deep Breakfast is one I can keep coming back to. It's not hard at all, totally easy.

I know a guy who has dealt with trauma, physical and psychological. He told me once that this record had brought him peace in difficult times.

It's not about the cheezy synth tones. It's not about the difficulty. Fuck all that. This world needs to take a bath and fucking relax.