What I Think When I Walk by a Lake

Today has been one of the first days that has truly come across as a fall day in Mississippi. The undeniable beauty of October. Wanting to flee the commerce of the strip mall where I was enjoying coffee and flirting with a sweet-as-can-be barista (did not want to fly from her, but a man often must choose peace of mind over a woman), I headed toward a nearby lake.


My students (I pray that I am dead by this point) will encounter, um, situations that will not merely be different in degree but radically different in kind: for instance, human-robot “relationships.”

The coming displacement of most of the working force through automation may force us to see that life is more than a career.

Then again, the massive displacement of people through automation may lead to a crushing listlessness, robbing us of the will to live.

Can two people in the current sexual market place make it work if they have fundamentally different hobbies and interests? Granted, such a concern is a product of modernity because, for most of humanity’s existence, most people have not had the luxury to quibble about items that did not pertain directly to life and death and eternity. Still, this being said, unless we return to a more exigency-driven and religious way of life, there is no going back. We no longer identify ourselves through our families or religious communities; rather, we identify ourselves based on those pursuits from which we derive a non-necessary–but now seemingly an irremovable–gratification.

As of this morning, my biggest regret in life is never having had children. Not that such a possibility is now beyond the pale, but were I to have children, I would be an older (read: grumpier and less energetic) dad. However, I do not regret not having married, for I really do not know if I am a good partner or would make a good husband, but I know without a waning shadow of a doubt I would have been an amazing father.

Then again, is it essentially selfish to want to bring souls into this world primarily to dull the edges of my own mortality and soften the blow of my encroaching death? Yes, that is what humanity does, but are we justified in this?

Why am I single again?

Anyway, enjoy. I would love to waltz by a lake on nights like what, I trust, tonight will become.

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Dual-Purpose Morrissey

When I was younger, I listened to The Smiths to prolong heartbreak because I used to luxuriate in sorrow. Older, I still listen to The Smiths– but to expedite the getting over a heartbreak process because I no longer have the time/energy for it.


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You Know I Love It When the Music’s Bad

Listening to my Britpop playlist to distract me from having to thinking too heavily about what I am grading, this gem played. I was a huge fan of Garbage back in the 90s. Something about Shirley Manson’s in-your-face sexuality coupled with her darkly lyrical sensibilities enhanced by her depressive affectations substituted as my teenage crack. Also, I used to have a weakness for ginger girls, though not so much these days. Such a woman would probably put me off were I now to meet her, as I prefer women who understand the allure of less is more when it comes to displaying their sexuality publicly, but in the throes of adolescence, she threw me.

Everyone’s rightful favorite:

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Sky Thrown into Convulsions

“In the darkness, her warm hand on my arm, I could watch the autumn sky thrown into convulsions of coloured light with the calm of someone for whom the whole unmerited pain of the human world had receded and diffused itself–as pain does when it goes on too long, spreading from a specific member to flood a whole area of the body or the mind.” ~Lawrence Durrell Justine 

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Carcass of Vanity

“Forty,–sombre anniversary to the hedonist, –in seekers after truth like Buddha, Mahomet, Mencius, St. Ignatius, the turning point of their lives.”

“Approaching forty, I am about to heave my carcass of vanity, boredom, guilt and remorse into another decade.”


Been listening to this song quite a bit lately in my mid-life blues.  (Richey, we all hope that you are still alive, living in contemplative isolation somewhere. However, if you are not, I get it. I do, you beautiful person.)

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Which Side?

KT Tatara has only a pitiful amount of videos on YouTube, but the guy is golden. Like your ‘umble author, this comedian comes from a Japanese father and white mother and is not afraid to mock either side. (As confused as we may be racially, I think that mixed people are the only ones who are “allowed” to make racial jokes, for no one can corner us about our humor.)

His skit about being mixed:


This guy is also sufficiently red-pilled, too, hence why none of the women are laughing during this performance:

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To Kiss or Not to Kiss

If you have not seen Wong Kar Wai’s majestic film Fallen Angels and think that you may (and you fucking should), then stop reading. My film-auteur brother introduced me to his films over a decade ago, and I have been in awe since then. With brilliant cinematographer Christopher Doyle, Wai’s films are lush, atmospheric, dreamy explorations of quirky, broken people. In other words, right up Bourbon Apocalypse’s dark alley.

The first clip is the actual ending for the film. Nothing occurs between the two characters, but they confess that they are fine with the quasi-intimacy that they are still able to share. With the second clip, the alternate ending, a bold kiss is taken, but it leads only to further frustration than what may have occurred had a kiss not been exchanged in the first place.

Is it better to kiss only to be rejected or to have never kissed at all, allowing one to fantasize about what may have been?



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