Existentialism or Existential Crisis or Deconstruction of a Young Mind?

"The mind is an excellent servant but a terrrible master"

Last post, i started with "Something. Has. Been. Bothering. Me". This  time, i won't (i didn't). Started like a manufactured essay with that quote, though. Well, that may be because this is titled "Existentialism or Existential Crisis or Deconstruction of a Young Mind?" but i don't care. After all, should we not apply the rule: "The world is full of apathy and i don’t care". There, i have successfully managed to derail what was supposed to be a thoughtful introduction because context is everything (or was it king?), right?

I. The "I" Question

I am,

I am circled in,

I am encircled by

Religion's sin

I am,

I identify,

I am identified by

Identity

Am I

Aroused by

An imagined, enacted

Reality?

Am I

What's been whispered to me

That I am

Supposed to be?

Am I

A plasticine man

Told and played

Conducted and directed?

Am I who I'm told I am?

II. The "Who Is" Question?

Science and questions,

Answers and religions,

The what do you knows,

The who do you knows,

The problem of origin,

The problem of original sin,

No one knows, no one knows.

Starting assumptions,

Incomplete explanations,

Designed or a dance with chance?

Neither is here,Neither is there,

Each begins with

A leap of faith, A leap of faith.

III. The "Choice" Answer 

Pacifists, realists

Apologists, rationalists,

Crusaders, crucifiers,

Perpetrators, actors,

Populists, artists,

Creationists, scientists,

I could be all,

I could be none,

I could be another,

But I'd rather

Be a constant,

The common human denominator.

.............................................................................

For those interested in an engaging conversation (yes, Richard Dawkins is featured - he is one of the best firestarters i know) somewhat related to the theme that this piece tries to address (touch upon is perhaps a better choice of words. egads), you could do worse than consider this as your debate kickstarter:

Whats interesting to note is that Richard Dawkins places himself at a 6 out of 7, an "unlikelyist". What an honest position to take! After all, the absence of proof is no proof neither is it proof that no proof can exist. Neither here nor there.  Ultimately, we all begin (or end with) a leap of faith. If we don't, then we must be prepared to sleep with an incomplete, imperfect picture.

As for me, i know that i'd - in the least - always want to be  humanist.

Unrelated:

And since it is already 1:30 in the morning and i should be either studying or sleeping, this should help me (and you, if you should ever need a mood-setting @ 1:30  a.m)

I love this song about as much as i love Hallelujah. Leonard Cohen is a poet. All good lyricists have to be. There are some other pretty extraordinary and distinct versions by Adam Cohen, Joe Bonamassa and Katey Sagal. Each deserves a listen, each does.

Those Pants Are, Well, Too Low

I had a fabulous time at the 18 Degrees Festival, today. The State Central Library was jam packed with tons of stuff to see, hear and appreciate and tons of stuff to do.

It was brilliant to see the turn out. I spent quite a bit of time roaming around and generally observing before settling into the fag end of the poetry workshop (more on that fantastic experience in a later post, hopefully. No promises on this blog).

One thing that has irked me for YEARS now is low slung, below the waist jeans. I don't know why (actually, i do) but i find them just annoying. I don't want to discover what colour your underwear/boxers are (irrespective of your gender). I don't want to see, in a glance, that you've been reusing the same unwashed pair for a week or that you forgot to wear some. If i see some more crack, i'll need to find a crack to crawl into and hide. So, umm, you get the drift, right? Its an issue closed to my heart.

Unfortunately, for me, State Central was fairly packed with some vigorous propaganda artists of the low slung jeans kind. Yes, i am militant in my views on this particular issue. Before you accuse me (correctly, i might add) of being no fashion guru myself (who still wears chappals in public?), i binned democracy a while back. So, currently, till the next post, this blog is dictatorial. Those jeans irked me.

Most people just take to wearing pant legs only. I mean, i freaking get too much spilling out, too often (that, i tell you!).

You may not believe it, but just scratch the last two paragraphs. Shove them in a dark crack. They were just contrived build-up for this:


Pants were fastened round/
Your waist/
Your butt’s mount/
Made it impossible to come down/
Without your will/
Pants now ride below/
Your mount/
Hanging loosely by your cock/
Hedging its bets that/
Your will can generate/
A permanent erection/
For your pants/

I hope you have had an eyeful of images. Happy dreams!