Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Inexorable Marches Always Have Breaks
Okay look alright so yeah seriously anyway honestly,
Thus far 2007 is cracking up to be the year of my insanity being brought into relief. First my Bears fanaticism exploded into a pathetic fallout visible in the form of a nonsensical gang of asterisks. Then my rigorous self-imposed apprenticeship to bad attitude French bistro cooking imploded under the weight of its phantasmagoric impracticality. And my nearness to being 24 years old keeps gnawing away at my mind so that I'm actually telling people that I am 24 and starting to be depressed about being 24 and almost 25 already and wiling my days away as a feckless office cow. And outright public failure has a very special place in my heart. It is, frankly, awesome. One of the reasons why it's awesome is that it most often leads to a change of course and a sturdy solution. This is one of the crappier reasons.
Nonetheless, as I have drawn up dozens of nifty "training plans" in the last couple of years, all of them have been guided by the principle that being the best means being, above all, not like everyone else. What follows from this is the realization that wildly underachieving is just as valuable as overachieving when it comes to counter-normative teleologies. But maybe sometimes the needle that keeps slamming from underacheive to overachieve and back again evens out into a happy acceptance of your place in the great scheme of creation. Empirically, I can only say that this is what happens when you put it together that:
Totino's pizzas are food. They cost about a dollar each. They take about 20 minutes to prepare. Sustenance achieved at a minimum of cost and time is virtuous.
Frankly, I've been blogging about the Bears and eating so much because my running is that poor, and also because, in the abscence of some miraculous social networking web domain that allows users to explicate their personal interests and fascinations in obsessively self-deprecating yet alarmingly self-ingratiating fashion, this is my outlet. Having said that, I'm skipping town in the morning for a trip that has me giddy like those nights in August 1995-1997 before I would leave for the Coeur d'Alene Summer School of Piping and Drumming. There shall be no running (I need a new inhaler prescription), and probably a good deal of Totino's. Of course I'll be ready to really take control when I come back.
Thus far 2007 is cracking up to be the year of my insanity being brought into relief. First my Bears fanaticism exploded into a pathetic fallout visible in the form of a nonsensical gang of asterisks. Then my rigorous self-imposed apprenticeship to bad attitude French bistro cooking imploded under the weight of its phantasmagoric impracticality. And my nearness to being 24 years old keeps gnawing away at my mind so that I'm actually telling people that I am 24 and starting to be depressed about being 24 and almost 25 already and wiling my days away as a feckless office cow. And outright public failure has a very special place in my heart. It is, frankly, awesome. One of the reasons why it's awesome is that it most often leads to a change of course and a sturdy solution. This is one of the crappier reasons.
Nonetheless, as I have drawn up dozens of nifty "training plans" in the last couple of years, all of them have been guided by the principle that being the best means being, above all, not like everyone else. What follows from this is the realization that wildly underachieving is just as valuable as overachieving when it comes to counter-normative teleologies. But maybe sometimes the needle that keeps slamming from underacheive to overachieve and back again evens out into a happy acceptance of your place in the great scheme of creation. Empirically, I can only say that this is what happens when you put it together that:
Totino's pizzas are food. They cost about a dollar each. They take about 20 minutes to prepare. Sustenance achieved at a minimum of cost and time is virtuous.
Frankly, I've been blogging about the Bears and eating so much because my running is that poor, and also because, in the abscence of some miraculous social networking web domain that allows users to explicate their personal interests and fascinations in obsessively self-deprecating yet alarmingly self-ingratiating fashion, this is my outlet. Having said that, I'm skipping town in the morning for a trip that has me giddy like those nights in August 1995-1997 before I would leave for the Coeur d'Alene Summer School of Piping and Drumming. There shall be no running (I need a new inhaler prescription), and probably a good deal of Totino's. Of course I'll be ready to really take control when I come back.
