Nov 18, 2009


why hello, onion rag-stand. i didn't expect to see you there. i didn't expect to see anything there. at all. a potted plant stand wouldn't have been alarming, but you, staring back at me from across the road; you were unexpected.

you look lonely, onion. who could blame you. you've been left in the most inconvenient of places. the median between the UT stadium and the music building is far out of most student's walking ranges. but i'd bet that lack of foot traffic isn't the only thing making you so stoic and solitaire.

let's be honest onion. no one really cares to pay you much attention nowadays. you were hot stuff, way back when the dow was at 130000 points and there was a full out white house party to mock, all-day and all-night.

you've lost all that now, even us, your accomplices of those hey-days. the recycling rhetoric and inherent laziness of the species causes us to avoid most unnecessary, disposable, physical objects. especially those objects that manifest themselves as collections of hand-blackening paper. once picked up, our moral obligations oblige us to assume the responsibility of ensuring that you and all your skins are disposed of in a non-ecosystem disruptive manner.

and let's face it. you're no longer necessary. your rhetorical niche has been lost. who needs parody of the system, when the system, in the most responsible manner of all, does its own parodying? Fox News parodies News. CNN parodies an unbiased perspective. Liberals parody a liberal application of self-understanding and inclusiveness. Republicans parody a party of unbiased racists, protectors of all lifeforms (particularly those of the unborn), and, what may be their most farcical to date, representatives of the common man.

i understand, onion. it's hard to see what layers there are left to unwrap.

you stand naked, unskinned. eyeing me, vacantly, agenda-less, neither compelling me to read your attempts at repackaged cultural refuse nor attempting to disconcert me with an accusatory gaze. you're beyond cajoling, beyond blame: you've lost all hope. you've given up on your self.

now, you watch me.

you watch and wait to see, where i'll go, what i'll do. you've no self interest left in the game. you tried so hard to be something, that you've, at last, nothing to do but watch a someone, a person, a real entity without parody, without pretend, without grandstanding, without politicking... just be.

so i am.

Nov 11, 2009

The one and only

I made the mistake of looking before leaping just now. I had planned to jump back into blogging, pointy fingernails clacking out an inspired post. Instead, I got caught back up into the previous posts I had written, curious to see what it was that brought me here the last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.

I hate getting a phone call or a text from someone that I know, that I'm quite close to, but feeling, for some reason or another, as if I don't know them. As if they're an alien species, a pseudo stranger, made psuedo by the fact that I do know them and stranger by the fact that I feel strange being in contact with a person that I don't feel like I know. Call it social amnesia, call it misanthropic tendencies, call it unfriendly, calloused, or just plain rude. At least we're calling like it is.

Reading over a my own blog feels the same way. There's the element of surprise, the disbelief and the unwillingness to admit that maybe, just maybe, you know exactly what they're talking about. It's like finding an ally at a dreaded luncheon. You're expecting to bored, to feel uneasy about being in a large group of half-hostile people, when suddenly someone laughs the right way, mtalkakes a comment about a pair of shoes, or comes at you with some random background fact that you share in common. You've found someone that understands you! You have *fill in random thiing!* in common, and now you know that there's someone else in the world who understands.

Oh blog. How did you know I love talking about my neurosis? You always know how to say exactly what I needed to hear. You know how to boost my confidence, if not in myself, then in my ability to debase my own confidence. Thanks blog. It's good to hear from you too.


‪some days I remember the lies you told me and i laugh at both of us‬ ‪at me, for wanting so badly to believe you‬ ‪at you, for having t...