Blah Blah Blah Generation

"Whats that?"
"The stale ongoing push of capitalism, the defying reign of flow. Continuous and ever expanding populations. We've got systems for crowd control that range from traffic lights to riot police."
"Yeah, things are continually being regulated. Jesus, look at bittorrent. Rampant cultural expectations for exposure and financial ruin.
"And yet, Gene I think... Wait. What are you doing?"
"What do you mean? I'm listening to you..."
"Don't sip your coffee while we're talking about existential awakenings. You're always doing that.
"Yeah..."
"We're having a talk about regularity and here you are participating in it. Robot!"
"Well, it tastes good, and I need it because I love caffinene more than I love my own wife. Does that sum up reasoning for you... No. Don't go into some ramble about breaching passion..."
"You asshole. The minute I try to express my dissatisfaction with it all I've got someone just mocking me. That's what I hate about our generation. We've got nothing but regulated cultural norms. Hipsters are branded more than any other subculture, preppy morons are still just jocked pretty morons. Feminism doesn't know what the fuck it's doing anymore because of that goddamn Mad Men show. Sometimes I wish I could have been there for 1968 just so I knew what it felt like to be part of a rebellious crowd. The most rampant spread of cultural backlash is in the form of digitized property that is made up of nothing. I feel like we're physically numbed from the plight of dealing with our existence. Coffee and cigarettes. Pot and film. When was the last time you actually saw a full starry night? Better yet, when was the last time you actually enjoyed someone's company...
"I really can't recall..."
"Exactly, and fuck your reference to this. I hate those assholes and bigots who think lecturing is some form of preaching. Do what you want with your life. Participate in the system. You've got your rights, even when only half of them exist in practice. Sometimes I just sit and feel useless being quiet with my thoughts, I've got to have some way of expelling them.
"People are people, Gene. You can't just expect the best out of everyone to follow suit with your rampage of objections. Fucking Joe Schmo has to feed the kids, his family. he's got the pressure of his past, his father his mother. Grappling with his existence and what it all means doesn't interest him. People are impatient enough these days, but most of them want to buy into the system because they don't want to object or don't see a way of starting how, except without pulling out an AK. God what a piece of historic gluttony.
"What does..."
"I'm being smothered by society, I want to be an individual."
"You can be, look at you now.... you narcissistic prick."
"I don't even like this, I don't even like you. I wake up every morning hoping for that magically bullshit that everyone seems to pray for. Why do I even think about that? Is false hope just acceptable nowadays?"
"So what do you want to do about it? Write a blog? A column? Train in the army and bloody yourself in the hands of someone you've never met? Venture into political debauchery? Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Have a good day, here's your cup of tea, here's your low-fucking fat latte. Wear this accessory, wear this ring. God help me. I love it. Confessing to shit like this makes studying philosophy in university seem like reverting to a cult."
"We should always do this much coke."
"I can't believe in it."
"Coke."
"The system."
"Oh,... You mean about your choices. Should they be consistent based on your values or should be stretch realistic scenarios in order to accommodate your curiosity? Ah... So we're all just lying to ourselves."
"Yes and no."
"Fuck those who aren't conscious of themselves. Self-reflection is something everyone is capable of."
"And the it's those kind of remarks I can't stand. What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that people are lazy."
"In a world of 5 billion people, there are lazy people, but don't we have to account for all of those who haven't been able to object simply by their upbringing. We have all of this North American emphasis on parental responsibility, can't it also just be related to government belief structures? What about him?"
"Who?"
"The guy that's been staring at you ever since we got here."
"He's probably pissed because we're making so much noise."
"Should be involved him?"
"Sure. LEt's see what he thinks about structures. Maybe he'll be able to contain his interest instead of drinking coffee."
Hi.
Hi.
Hi.
"We noticed you sitting and staring... at me specifically."
"I was just thinking about what you said about action... well... choice that is. I consider myself to be a burnout, completely and utterly unable to function on any level once I come home. I drink profusely and... Those wide doors are closing."
"what?"
"Dunno. I thought it was a song. Maybe I'm just tired."
"That's likely."
"Can I ask you something. Because my friend and I were talking and then I wondered if you felt like your choices were in complete disarray."
"Not at all.. I chose all of this. From when I got my car to when I married, to when I had children, to when I decided to get that TV. I feel like I'm in complete control. At least I did. Now hearing you two rambling on about the great iron cuffs of society has depressed me and helped me regain my lost aptitude for self-reflection. So thanks a lot."
"Oww! Fuck you sir. Unnecessary."
"Completely the contrary."
"You two don't understand. People dno't want to think, they want immediate benefit sought through systems that are assured. They want wealth before everything and then they want everything."

could there be ANY reason I would want to write a blog when people I know say it's just an attention grabber

I assume you are reading this, so my point above is rather hypocritical. I don't know what to think about the whole blogging world. I don't feel a sense of entitlement when i write these things. People are free to express their stupid ideas why not just allow them to voice them in a blog where they can find an audience or just solace in the wonderful purging of mindless dribble?

I'm a fanatic movie fan, so it would make sense to just write movie reviews. I'm thinking of holding off the job until The Road comes out. It's one of my all time favourite novels, and of course, it encompasses my greatest fear: nuclear war. Don't be fooled by the pathetic advertisements positing the disaster as some kind of natural happening. It's about the end of civilization due to the actions of humanity. That theme of survival and death are the very points the book points out so well, so you can imagine my dismay at seeing the marketing expand needlessly in those 'other' directions. I'm sure it's a ploy to ensure that all forms of disasters will tap into variety of audiences. You know, the idiots who think nuclear war is something talked about enough during the heights of the cold war in the late 50s and mid-80s and why should disaster on a large scale interest people? But those fellas play a numbers game, statistically I'm sure they'll nab another couple thousand viewers because the storyline hints at "global warming" which is a hot topic... or at least it was two years ago.

Anyway. I emplore you, oh humble and courageous reader, to pick up Cormac McCarthy's The Road. Yes it's a dark and disturbing tale, but one of hope and the desire to defeat the call of death that would be so easy to yield to.

Birth. Care. Parents. Language. School. Friends. More School. Self-awareness. More school. Pain. Knowledge...... KNOWLEDGE....

Gah! I like to expand my horizons and tap into several modes of thinking. I accomplish this best when I'm having an intense discussion (usually at a cafe - always cafes) or when i'm stoned. Now rather than continue to somehow 'shame' myself by positing my lifestyle as some kind of venture into the perverse language of potheads, I plead with you to not stereotype me and seek to understand my concerns with thinking: I fail to understand why now most of us are able to function at all with the understanding of the universe. Bare with me... Reason suggests that since we cannot understand everything and there are simply all sorts of sensations and abilities we cannot experience therefore we should live within our means and continue to thrive with our limitations. Subsequently meeting those limitations and adapting to succeed them. Sure, maybe someday someone could fly or make a head explode with a single thought. But not today.

Okay. Great. Let me get that Americano with some room for milk. I also like a little chocolate sprinkling on there for hints of sugar. I understand we need to 'get on with our lives', ride the car to work and do our jobs and support our family. That's fair, humans are emotional and considerate beings. We keep each other safe.

But I'm losing my point here. I felt I just needed to clarify that the 'systems' we live with are necessary, even if they continue to change/adjust. But really, I'm facinated by the fact that something like this: ......................(See image at bottom of page)...................................... can come off to some people as a "Yeah. I know. So what?" Gah! I can't help but think about how my body is just goo attached to bones, packaged nicely with a conscious.

This feeling was revealed to me when I was about 5 year old. My dad had a convertible and we were living in North Vancouver in a prestigious town called Deep Cove, embedded alongside a mountain on the edge of a beautiful bay. The kind of area that screams the best of Vancouver and even has that refreshing minty air to go alongside the god-like mountains. So driving to central Vancouver required a little trip alongside this mountain towards a bridge that takes you downtown. Now along this road you'd get to see a plethora of interesting sights. To give you an understand of the geography, while you'd be hugging a mountain road you could easily see across the bay towards the 'mainland' (its all connected but the bay extends so far it's almost like it's detached). You'd be so high up at some points you'd see for kilometers. There are massive railway links and refineries. So you'd discover some new attraction everytime.

And having a convertible and no self control when it came to showing off, my father would often take down the roof of the car and gun it along the road at awesome speed. Being 5 years old, this was my first rollercoaster ride. While I changed my mind later, I felt I had very little confidence that we would not (everytime) somehow swurve off the road and plunge to our deaths, hitting on our way an unlimited supply of mother natures most stubborn forestry.

Only at the brink of death do you really think about the value of life. I'd often protest such unsafe driving and demand that my father would stop. Seeing as how he and my sister loved the experience I eventually suffered in silence. But one of those days I have a profound revelation... or at least it was some kind of epiphany. I realized that I was a human living on a particular part of the world and that I could die. You know, existential crisis. Now before you think I'm just waxing my own car with regard to how old I was when this happened, I assure you I'm being as modest about it as possible. My childhood was it's own chaotic set of experiences.

But the thoughts that I felt that day stayed with me. When I'm fixed into routine I often just plug into it. That is, I go with the flow and don't think about... planets, earth, matter, form. But every so often I've become more concerned with my existence simply because it just IS. Questions about why inevitably come, but its more about grappling with existence. It's a truth. I am matter. You are matter. The only thing that makes us distinct (semantics) is the fact that we are conscious of it. When I think about existence I grow curious about that part of your brain that exists to lock out certain things. I read about this a while ago, perhaps some more research is warranted but essentially it dictates what you can handle and what you can't. Without it you'd lose your grip on reality and suffer horrendously as your mode of thinking would deviate grossly from the norm. Poor bastards. This, we'll call it a failsafe, is often broken when people go to war or see something horrific. I'd argue that it could be something astonishing. Anyway. The fact that that exists blows me away even more. My mind is governing my intake!

So here I am. Existing. On the band wagon. Ordering my coffee from starbucks, browsing at new apps on my iphone, thinking about life and the world and the fact that it is indeed very real to me (even if someday I discover it isn't and that consciousness can be extended into forging alternate realities).

Maybe I'm going crazy. Maybe I'm voicing something people have heard over and over again. Whatever. I'm here. Alive and typing to a fake audience. Right now, today, in the infinte expanse of time.... I wonder helplessly about existence and... yet, perhaps....

... like the thrill surfers talk about when they're in a pipe surrounded by energy and motion (called the green room) or the feeling soldiers talk about when they describe being shot at... Even though I was terrified at the prospect of life at 5 years old, I still felt a need to enjoy it... even in my premature pessimism.

So this is my first blog

At the advice of a friend I found it prudent to make a blog. Being sort of paranoid about who can actually access my information i was hesitant, but facebook... well damn. there's no point in resisting.

I'm at work, so I'll have to make this brief (it's strange speaking to the internet audience, it's like being on stage and bright lights are beaming on me so I can't tell if theres 200 people watching me or none).

But I suppose I should thank you for reading this... I'll be a little more specific about the topics next time, but here's to a fresh start!