notforprophet

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Now for a different insight. What do I do when I’m feeling too fine with spirits on a Friday night in the presence of a great deal of sensuous revelry and absolutely no liminal responsibilities? I exit stage left, crawl back to my truck, access my laptop, and scrawl thusly (here unexpunged and without further clarification, i.e., I reserve the right neither to explain nor defend what follows ):

By now we should realize that Xanga’s a Movable Feast. A la Hemingway-esque. I don’t think anyone’s been with me shoulder-to-shoulder Xangawise since my incipience. Nor am I ineluctably faithful to anyone else’s daily blog without a miss. We move. We wave. We tide as if we are a tsunami of incredible self-discovery. Oh, how I wish I were you. For one moment, just you, whoever ‘you” are (and not the Xanga “You”—I’ve already hacked that account—LOL, and also not the “xxreaderxx” “you” which, thanks to seanmeister’s lead, I formally reified), but the you who is entirely “I” but never me and exists regardless of whatever hype be. Regardless of “new servers”. Regardless of my paltry yet often sultry words. Regardless of guards against regardlessness. he-ha-ha-ha-he.

Do you realize, I do believe, that we, in our reflection upon our own participation in mankind, may be blazing the forefront of humanity’s evolvement by uncovering and rediscovering true community?! Damn the “professional bloggers” et. al. and their sundry in the popular epistemological blog-speculating press who seem to see individual blogging personalites but forever ignore us as a phenom. Even John, our self-sacrificing administrator, seems in his passionate advocacy of ‘blogging as a business model/evolving form of journalism” to ignore (by omissive mention) the significance of our very own community. But fuck. We aren’t Shakers who are about to disappear. We are the awakening of Walt Whitman’s Blades of Grass in this newly conceptualized blogosphere. Each of us: a glistening blade of grassy expressiveness. So shame on those who purport “blogging” as a new form of decentralized expression and ignore our individually collective contribution to a fundamental reawakening of comaraderie.

Anyway…some asides:

Banks as dirtiest purveyors of the darkest enterprises, nee, until recently, terrorism.

Heaven as the forceful insister of the meaningless of such concepts as “money”, “corporation” and “legality” .

“notforprophet” as being the least likely entity to ever again realize consensual intimacy.

Speculation upon the replacement of terrorism as the penultimate ”current” threat: (remember the threat of a world-wide nuclear winter—hey, what’s become of that?) What’s now to follow once “terrorism” expenses?

Femininity as something always utterly expressed.

Perfect expressive coherence as always something less than a virtue.

Most organizations that are extant as being so puerile that our reliance upon them is retardingly juvenile.

And that ain’t all!