"Past Imperfect"

by Dom B.
2001.07.26

Ahem. Next week's column will be a job application. It will probably be pretty funny. The column for the week after that will be all haiku.  It will make you feel very peaceful inside, very enlightened.

This week's column, however, well, perhaps I should explain. My mind's pretty tangled right now, so we're going to sit down a try to sort through things a bit. Try to remove some of those splinters. Don't worry, we'll make it. Trust me. Together, we can accomplish anything.  Together, we'll fold the heavens and make the earth our chariot and the waters will be our steeds.

I'll start ranting...now.

I've heard that goldfish have memory capacities that can hold only about a half an hour. So every half hour, things get reset. That pink gravel is suddenly new, that billowing blurred world outside of the bowl has just popped into existence. The food instinct and the danger instincts and the mating instincts are all hardwired, and are always there.  But that other fish, who's that? Sometimes I wonder if people do the same things. We, as a culture, reinvent ourselves with every generation. And copy, cut and paste, we make a new collage with a lot of the same parts. Think about it.

"Bands with 5 photogenic young men in them that sing sickeningly sweet pop tunes, WOW THAT IS SO COOL. Let's give them Grammys." "Scooters. How amazing. I think I'll buy one." "Philandering, adulterous politicians. I am ever so shocked."

Speaking of all this, what has our generation invented ourselves as? What are the hallmarks of Generation X (trust me, we're Gen-X. I've seen what the next generation is, and it ain't pretty.) Gen-X is coffee shops. Grunge music and Transformer cartoons.  Bitterness. People who used to wear jean shorts. Hold on, I think our legacy is much more than that. But when you're so much a part of something, when you're so saturated by it, you can't see it anymore. Or every once in a while you do notice, and you're shocked, but that all fades, just like being a goldfish in a bowl. Moving on....

I'm wondering if I really want enlightenment. Do I really want to learn more, about anything? Do I just want something to search for, some carrot in front of my nose to keep me moving? Don't we all? From what I've read, the secret is to not want. To not want enlightenment. That makes sense, because, you never want the flu, but you get it. Maybe I'll catch enlightenment. Maybe I'll come down with a case of Nirvana.

Whew. I'm running out of steam here. There were a bunch of other things driving me crazy, but my stomach is full now, and I feel much better. Have you ever heard people say "If I knew now, what I didn't know then..." and they proceed to envision some scenario wherein they go back in time to junior high or some garbage and ask that girl to the prom or score the goal or something. I've caught myself thinking this way before, and you probably have also. I really think that if any of us did jump back to junior high, the first thing we'd say is: "Yo, FFFF this garbage. I'm going to the bar.".

On that note, there's a nice cold Yeungling in my fridge waiting for me.

Be good