You know the feeling, it doesn’t matter how bored shitless you are, you just cannot bring yourself to watch another cookie cutter star trek episode, or another walking dead, or another lost, or another any fucking thing.
Sitting there and watching a candle flicker is more interesting and relaxing.
I was entreated to go through my old bookmark.html files, created when I make my regular backups, going back over a decade and to click every single link.
Hey, WTF happened to geocities? lmao
server not found, server not found, server not found, ooh, it’s still there, server not found..
Some of them, simply because it has been so long, and also because they aren’t actually trying to tell me or sell me anything, are a pleasant nostalgic revisit..
Turn your speakers and sub-woofers up and feast on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w4MjC1Ywofg for example, some of them are stuck in amber, and some of them, well WTF happened here, and then there are the rest.
The rest are like soap operas, you can walk away for 5 years and walk back and sit down and within 10 seconds get exactly what is going on, which is why I don’t watch soap operas, or anything by star trek or lost or walking dead or dexter or csi or bones or storage wars or pretty much anything else.
Usually ten minutes into episode one I see it is just a re branded version of something else that is old and lame, and cancel play and delete, sometimes, just sometimes, it is fresh enough I watch the next episode, or maybe the one after that too, before I realise they just used all the fresh and new that they had in stock, and the rest of this series and the next three series are going to be indistinguishable.
Blogs are particularly susceptible to this, the need to create a new article every day, or 5 a week, or 5000 new words a week, or 50 new adwords a week, you don’t have to ask when you get there, you got there ages ago.
Then you get people who are quite interesting, but within a few minutes your realise that while their experience as a toll booth operator gave them enough material to be interesting as all get out for 5 minutes exactly, at 5 minutes and 1 second they start repeating themselves, because they have done nothing else in their life, they are a toll booth operator, mostly boring, and you just got all the highlights, from here on in it is all downhill.
I used to know this guy, you would know his name, axe player in a very well known band, lots of shit he could pretend was only temporary, but a 90 date tour cooped up with the same bunch of cunts and roadies and dealers and groupies and hangers on, doing basically the same session over and over, that was the hard times at the rock face / well head for him, and like a mantra running through his head as long as he could was “think of the fucking money” which was the only way he got through it every time, until he didn’t any more.
Whatever the dreams of rock and roll, by the time one album has gone gold you look at their eyes and all the guys and gals on stage strutting their stuff are about as into the gig as the duty proctologist down at city hospital, everyone else is just another boring asshole.
1080p is a pure bitch for this, not that the first Matrix film was all that good, but at least it was fresh, watch a full quality 1080p stream of the second matrix film and all you can see is the uncanny valley, CGI Agent Smith‘s and CGI Neo and CGI pretty much fucking everything else akshully, and whatever interest there was in watching the film just dried up… but then there was a film all about this… Simone…. amusingly it bombed, despite being orders of magnitude better than the matrix turdology.
And so for whatever reasons I started this little bookmark thing out, I have progressed to the point where my own little psycho skank ho decided to play the FRA card on my ass and my browsing and bookmark history took a turn for the more macabre and grim, I expect you see the same thing with people who have been diagnosed with cancer etc.
At that point things start to get a little like a diary, a little like scar tissue.
Scar tissue is fun, I can show you a small white mark on my leg, you probably wouldn’t even notice it unless I pointed it out to you, and even then, it is just a small white scar to you, or anyone else.
To me, it takes me right back, SWAPO (back when they were toting, not voting), tsetse fly, bilharzia, and a piece of barbed wire that just tore a gash in my leg, that was me, the same person, but not the same person, because I have done so much since then, gone so many places, talked to so many people…
… and that’s when you get THAT feeling, that realisation that while you may still be 16 inside, in some ways you are also 60 and in some ways 600, and THAT is what you didn’t have when you were 16… the older skin not so much, the inner 60 year old and inner 600 year old,that’s what you lacked at 16, that’s why you bought so much bullshit and wasted time listening to and hanging with assholes.
As a being, as a creature, I have evolved and grown… my life cannot be stripped of everything merely mundane and compressed into 300 seconds of anecdotes about weird and funny shit that happens to toll booth clerks.
Despite the lack of any plan, and often of any apparent guiding intelligence, and often contrary to all expectations, I have managed thus far to live and varied and interesting life, in the way that a varied and interesting diet is essential to good nutrition and a varied and interesting education is essential to a good intellect…
And so I go through the bookmarks, and I find that while I have, as usual, grown and changed and evolved since first coming across those MRA websites, many of the website owners and operators have been stuck in amber.
I am fucking loath to say it, but someone ought to, if only so that the idea can be analysed and reduced and dismissed, and naming no names, but some of these fucking MRA guys and their blogs, they are like the toll booth guy, if it wasn’t for their wife / girlfriend / judge / boys in blue giving them a kicking, NOTHING notable would ever have happened in their life…
Everything else is just a fucking repeat / re-run.
And I think this may be WHY there is in fact no such thing as an MRM, and those who got red pilled in the 80/70/60’s whenever see the MRM itself and nothing but a re-run, albeit with occasional interesting new bits of technology like the intertubez.
You can either let that cut on your leg heal and scar over, and forget about it apart from the rare occasions you notice it…. or you can sit there and pick at the fucker all day long and make sure it never heals.
I got a “friend”, more of a loose acquaintance really, so we get talking and it turns out they have a project bike, that has been going nowhere, no tools, no skills, no abilities, but they are willing to devote time and effort to the job, if only they knew how and where to start.
So hey, I have a “hobby” home workshop, every tool you can think of short of actual crank grinding / line boring, we can do this, I provide the expertise, my only rule is my workshop doesn’t become a dumping ground for your abandoned projects, or “your” project is going to end up in the skip and a big fuck you.
They are as keen as fuck and take notes and make plans, and much discussion and planning ensues.
And then I don’t hear from them for a week, then two, because when push comes to shove….. fact is if they got in touch now my response is that it was a limited time offer that has now closed, permanently…. that person will never get another first opportunity to make a bad impression on me.
I don’t care what, if anything, ever happens to their project, and I’m left the same way about 95% of the MRA sites out there, I don’t care what happens to their kids / fight against authoritah / whatever, not because of the project / cause in question, but because of THEM.
I have heard everything of interest that you will ever have to say.
When you decided to be dead men walking by not learning and growing and healing through your trials and tribulations, when you decided to defy reality (NAWALT), when you were offered the Red Shirt, and instead of telling them to stick the whole show you took it, because to you a bit part is better than no part, you became toll booth anecdote guy, and your 300 seconds are up.
“Game over man”
Related articles
- Thoughts at a Toll Booth on I-76 (rendezvouswithrenee.com)
- Is This Motherfucker Cheating On Me? Signs Your Boyfriend/Girlfriend is Skeezing On You. (elusiveglacier.wordpress.com)
