I was going to write something about how I am an absurdist, and yet I am in some ways a sad person. Then I looked up Absurdism in Wikipedia (didn't want to make a fool of myself) and decided that if it meant reading Kirkegaard (sp?) and Camus, then no, I'm not an absurdist. What we need, perhaps, is a way to separate people who think about philosophies and people who do them. And maybe even those who live them.
Not that I've really lived a philosophy in any grand sense. I was in the Bay Area during the eighties and only went to two Cacophony events. So much of my life is in my head. But I hate philosophy--it rattles around in my head in a totally meaningless way. Good stories are different. I wish I had some.
The weather is sort of dreadful. And I feel more prey to it just sitting there. (Whoops, am I in the wrong blog?)
Do I have to be associated with "a movement"? Probably not. It does help to have a label to slap on yourself in conversation. Of course, I don't know how to talk to people... I'm too intense. Still--I'm pushing 50! I don't think I'll ever become a quiet suburban type. I'm going to be the terror of the old folks home. First off, I'll have been pushing my own chair for years! But most of all, I'm not very good at just going along to get along. (I may even have that backwards.) I get stubborn and yell out what I think is true.
It sounds like I'm bragging, and of course I love myself, but it's difficult to live this way. Always having too many odd corners to even be a square peg. Work, relationships, always seem to be outside my grasp. Yes, I've had my current job for 10 years. But I don't know if there's room for advancement. And grade increases seem to be caught in bureaucratic tangles.
I have no idea what this edition is about.
This blog is typeset in Georgia. I thought about Helvetica, but this seemed a little more daring.
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