Music
WordsJuly 30, 2022 (am i happy?) Lupita (Pita) Ramos (played by 10-year-old Dakota Fanning) asks her new, burned out, ex-CIA operative bodyguard, Creasy (played by a “turned-to-11” Denzel Washington, in Tony Scott’s (RIP) 2004 film, Man on Fire - an absolute must see, by the way), if he was unhappy while in school when he was her age (9) - a continuation of the morning’s barrage of questions she asked during the ride to her first day of school. This is Creasy’s first day on the job and as a bodyguard. He answers her questions, but his frustration mounts. He delivers a pensive and curt response, “Being unhappy is a state of mind.” This sentiment echoes (same side of a different coin, or the reverse side of a brocade, or, well, you get it) a declaration Abrahm Lincoln made (which is most likely a rephrased axiom of foregin origin) over 150 years ago, “Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be.” Which begs the question: how does one get happy? But first, a decision must be made: one must make a decision that it is okay to be happy. Epiphenomenalism acknowledges the mind as a real phenomenon, but holds that it cannot have any effect on the physical world (Mind and Matter are two separate beasts: as are physical and mental events. But only in the sense that qualia and consciousness are not strictly reducible to neuronal events, any more than the properties of water are reducible to the chemical characteristics of oxygen and hydrogen. Epiphenomenalism is often regarded as the only generally acceptable alternative to stark materialism (which is itself, a contrast to Cartesian substance dualism - Rene Descartes brainchild. Cartesian substance dualism posits that only two foundational premises exist: mental and physical. A philosophy stating that the mental can exist outside the body, and the body cannot think.): one problem with this position is that it contradicts our basic core experience that mental states really do affect our actions, which, if true, our willed actions relegated to the classification of illusion. Now, imagine meeting the aforementioned at a cocktail party. You’re all chatting and having a good ol’ time, and seemingly out of nowhere, Evolutionary Biology walks up and spouts off its guiding principle: how and why would consciousness (mind / mental leanings) evolve if it did nothing? If so, its only function is the phantasm? Are we trapped in a purgatorial state of future’s fear and resentment’s past? Indeed: it is okay to be happy - move forward. The less you know. We Must Now Celebrate the Death of Mr. D’arcy On December 31st, a prince was laid to rest had a history of heart failure but drank himself to death was loved by all, but lost the willingness to accept the love within himself. Died at the edge of the cliff he could not leap while begging for the answer whispering every French word he ever learned to the cancer next to his grandfather’s pistol he could only use once death by a thousand cowboy cuts. No one was present for his last words though those that knew him knew that they were for her a gift if not just for the wind his long lost love and only friend: “No one ever sleeps next to me again” he said as he fell back found dead at the dawn holding onto the rest of the words he would never send and could never take back with enough silver in his pockets for the postage and the casket. By: Adam Davis The shadows of regret lost my scent and humidity peels off like cellophane sheets from blood dipped orange skins. {Auditory solutions} and I should have listened to my attorney. He captures light and sells the Sun. We are all this. Well, a few others as well: the highest grade snake oil is always attainable [at the moment - irrelevant]. Endless cameos collide in their gluttonous consumptive curations. Some sad-sacks live in tin cans and dance in luminous showers as they trickle upon their brown faces and yellow-striped tongues. If we knew the horrors of the less unfortunate’s existence, we would off our heads and beg our neighbor to shit down our decapitated neck holes: luckily, life really difficult, and so we shall keep our heads ((thank you and your welcome!!)) Anophthalmia, Turner Syndrome, Muscular Dystrophy, Cerebral Palsy, Lupus, Parkinson’s, Dementia, Alzheimers, Progeria, Spinal muscular atrophy, bird head syndrome, ad infinitum. If recognition ever pings our wretched pang, we’d sink our own shit. This act of breathing is now a contact sport. Involuntary to most - sure - but there are us who contemplate each breath’s origin and grow tired at dawn’s light. With soaked eyes and blackened hearts we trade our spirit’s illusive recompense. I say, “Jump!” Fear is a fantasy desirous of its own truth and unresolved traumatic crutch; a living resentment to resolve itself at the roulette table with gun in hand. This is why validation’s neglect bets on the brightest eyes and dying stars; so when denial lifts, awareness converges on its spirit's innate vacancy - lookout! A school shooting; a Wall Street scandal; another broken family; another broken child; another broken psyche; another desperate self-serving lie effused emptily between bridge and water. The depressurization of lungs through mutual needs of hugs. Food, cigarettes, malt liquor, street narcotics, fine green, shattered stereos, valueless money, setting humid suns bounce off elevated decibels of a mechanically generated heated breeze. Buckle up! Giant rats bloodlet less giant rats; the native’s harness thermal expansion to act as ballasted expansions of fantastical daydreams - life street-watches as the kingdom grows hypoxic. With long ropes and dirty gas masks, this labyrinthine conduit houses byzantine pulleys and takes no risk of a Paris Tango. Walk upon your broken will and stomp out dreams with steel toed galoshes. I’ve heard it said, “A grateful alcoholic will never drink again.” = open to new perspectives is mandatory. What else do you suppose they are good for?
If you liked this post from Running to Death, why not share it? © 2022 Running to Death
|
