I’m not usually an adept of these things — I actually often criticize the tendency to fill blog blog journal s with these useless badges, but if there’s anyone in the world entitled to propagate a viral badge it’s David Meadows from Rogue Classicism, the source of my daily dose of high classic (greek/roman) scholarship. Well, here comes nothing.
me write endless run-on nested sentence.
Anyway, Hugh McLeod’s Gaping Void, like Waiter Rant, have “Elementary school” reading levels. Violent Acres is a “Junior High School”.
So I’m thinking, tongue wobbling on cheek, that less is more and I should stop writing for genii if I ever expect to be succesful.
PS: This is obviously useless (because it’s meaningless — it analyzes english text) for blog blog journal s in portuguese. Sorry, periferia.
Don’t.
Seriously. It’s my own “agenda” to defend, my own mountain Everest to climb, my own life pursuit. It’s also a nondescript umbrella term whose meaning I’ve been and probably will be shaping implicitly in my writing.
Sure, you could hypothetically try to infer a cloudy idea from what I’ve been saying and try to follow it. But hey, trying to shape oneself into a dayvan cowboy is not something a dayvan cowboy would do. It’s not just the chutzpah, the deleuze-ish ultraphenomenology of crashing down the plane of imannence, or even the zen idea implied by the very idea of “don’t try, just do” implied in this paragraph.
It’s not like there’s a crowd to worship the idea either. But I worry about myself, about being blinded by the idea that I have some big secret to share. Something like Being alive: a primer
needs to be fueled by a sense of self-assurance that is both positive in that a dayvan cowboy should just dive into things as if they’re liquid — they always are — and negative in that begins to convey a sense of closure. As if I had it solved, or at least knew I was heading into the solution.