Famous Monsters Part 4 - Voodoo Masks For The Uncivil
It's no good having a solar system to yourself without a rocket ship. Escapism is everyone's right. Don't let authorities try to tell you it's a privilege.
The citizen-victim subjected to the prison warden of time wallows with each whim. Life can't be as simple as a race with winners and losers. Camus claimed we're all guilty. A just case just in case.
Respecting the limitations of thought is a start. There's beauty in limits, and that's what craft is all about. Nothing can replace craft, talent comes and goes. Everybody needs their bench.
Societal seams seem meaningful for so many reasons. Constitutions are written to emphasize superficial stereotypes, try to produce or mandate equity. Equity is a fairytale. The mends and means fashion the landscape and nothing can even the field or the fabric.
The texture of environment may be a template for style but style is not merely a mirror reflecting and deflecting the simple, sincere and soulful. Style is a voodoo mask, tricking and treating the constitution of conformity.
Spin officers shuck and jive in four four time. The medium sets the rhythm. A healthy metronome works in its own way. That's the only constitution that concerns me. Visual melody in swing eighths. Accent on two and four. Cross over the bar lines. Divide on indigenous terms.
Meanwhile, other forms of voodoo are hard at work, masking with care and efficiency, mechanism and machinery, forms and formalities. The best way to deal with strangers is with bureaucracy. But kids aren't concerned with bureaucrats that pretend to care but barely care to pretend. The residue of kids is visual red tape for the collective, the noise of capitalism.
Give us your ego, your poor and tired, the red apple delicious with soul. Enlighten the scene with bright silver and cherry red gloss. What you do with what you got. That's all that matters. Becoming uncivil may be the most civil act a voodoo god can perform.
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