I AIN'T NO FORTUNATE SON....

AS John Fogarty, SANG


Existentialism Boofishly Explained Away

My first brush with existing in the moment came when I had a psychologist, back over twenty years ago, who proclaimed that he was an existentialist. I read a few books about the movement, which pretty much answered an unspoken question that I had about whether this dude?s red eyes were caused by weed, or what? A young man in his twenties, with eyes that were as red as his hair. He was trying to live in the moment, for sensations and feelings, thrills and pills and chills. . . Can you see how this could lead to problems with a savings account? This is how a crack addict or a baby looks at the world? and it is the way everyone of us looks at the world to certain degrees. Who doesn?t want to feel good? Even people who like pain do so because it feels good, oddly enough?

T his philosophy of living in the moment sounds like it makes sense under a godless sky, where the old ideas of tying morality to religion ? and thus the empowerment of the current power structure that it is propping up ? are being not only questioned, but for all intents and purposes rebutted. . Taking whatever life has to offer with gusto like this is of course a lot easier if you are a rich rock star, rather than a crippled, sleeping in the streets, bum.

But, without a god to lick our wounds, what are we to do on this planet, spend our lives slowly bleeding to death from the thousands of tiny cuts that accumulate with the passing years? First a dead santa, then a dead cat, a dead sibling, dead grandparents, dead parents, dead? and no heaven waiting for them. I am forever surprised that more peoples minds don?t just break down and disentigrate into microcosmic countries reigned by the madness. I personally was so over whelmed by seventeen, when the essential question was being asked of me ? how will you proceed in life (though I had no real sense of this at the time), that I felt like I was going crazy. Feeling like you are going crazy is only almost as bad as actually going crazy? I think, but what the fuck do I know?


Trying to leap from sun spot to sun spot, regardless of whether it is a mile or a foot away, is hardly the way to be for most?.



Steal from me and you will be cursed in such a way that your hands turn into worthless, jelly fish like appendages that sting your intimates. Or sued or something bad like that...