Dead Eyed Fish Coma
Jun. 7th, 2011 11:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
askygoneonfireThanks to the unspeakable, inexplicable, wondrous generosity of forthwritten I have some paid time, I thought it was only right to celebrate with a post.
The other night, much like tonight really, I drank a heroic amount of vodka, and finished reading Albert Camus' The Fall. The book I finished a day before that was Martin Power's Nailed to History: the story of Manic Street Preachers. Being a massive CoR, I cried as much as I laughed at the story of the Valley boys and found myself obsessed/intrigued with Richey all over again. In that sense, The Fall couldn't have been a better 'next read' - the protagonist's words and Richey's lyrics are a marriage made in heaven/plagiarism made in hell.
The combination of the tail end of mania, vodka and Camus resulted in me being able to 'understand' some of the lyrics on The Holy Bible in what I felt was a new way. Before I passed out into a semi-paralytic sleep, I recorded my thoughts on Open Office on my phone. I record them below for 'posterity' (aka 'what the fuck?).
Much needed explanations can be found for some of this in '[]' brackets.
Dead eyed fish [I remember what this means; imagine being so drunk you can't walk, so you are half asleep on the floor and you try to crawl towards the glass of vodka/water, but your legs don't cooperate, so you flop forwards like a fish on dry land, dead eyed in your intoxication] trying to swim through our lives or at the very least to a pen [in order to express ourselves] but succeeding only in flopping there; both literally and metaphorically as the exhaustion of an existence burdened by the truth of life [the truth of life? Something to do with the revelation of Camus I have since forgotten] weighs us down so we can only flop and lollop to our outlet. is this why Richey starved? did he mistake this weight of realisation for the weight of bodies?
Fuck democracy coma; this is mediocrity death [pretty much just quoting MSP here....and referring to my job].
In my mind there are screams, a cacophony I could describe to you if only the words had been invented. it's as though I'm singing 'lalala' all day long then to sleep I turn the soundtrack off only to hear the baseline is a song and it's what I've been trying to drown out.
Nonsense sentences are nothing of the sort. Too many thoughts for the narrow construction of language to contain, forces us to press it into new ways of use, so it still doesn't come close to accurate representation but at least it is deconstructed from its normal [?!] forms. Richey told Nicky his truth [or so says 'Nailed to History'] and all that did is scare and confuse him [i.e. Nicky] but it should have illuminated him to his internal land/soundscape because 'nonsense' sentences are really the reflection of pure thought.
if Richey needed to know if Apocalypse Now was telling the truth [more reference to passages in Nailed to History] and I need to know if Richey was telling the truth does that mean that Richey is a fiction or that Colonel Kurtz is real?
All that 'free writing' [i.e. what I think I'm doing at this point] means is trying to commit to paper the truth of the mind - however distorted that might be, it still has the integrity of truth; people accuse you of wilful pretension or, worse still, deception through misdirection but in truth it is they who are misled by the silence in their heads. [quite. 0_0]
It's a lot like when I watched The Man Who Fell to Earth when I was drunk on rum to the point I couldn't remember my own name, but for the first time that film made sense. Or when I go really stoned and understood 'Motown Junk' in a way no person ever had before and insisted everyone I knew listen to it *right now*. A week of fucked up sleeping habits and a night of heavy drinking with a bit of mania thrown in for good measure makes for some entertaining reading.
I hope to contribute something intelligent to Dreamwidth in the next two weeks. although don't hold your breath as I'm currently reading 1984 and the last 249839 times I read that it gave me paranoia-based nightmares....
forthwritten I have some paid time, I thought it was only right to celebrate with a post.The other night, much like tonight really, I drank a heroic amount of vodka, and finished reading Albert Camus' The Fall. The book I finished a day before that was Martin Power's Nailed to History: the story of Manic Street Preachers. Being a massive CoR, I cried as much as I laughed at the story of the Valley boys and found myself obsessed/intrigued with Richey all over again. In that sense, The Fall couldn't have been a better 'next read' - the protagonist's words and Richey's lyrics are a marriage made in heaven/plagiarism made in hell.
The combination of the tail end of mania, vodka and Camus resulted in me being able to 'understand' some of the lyrics on The Holy Bible in what I felt was a new way. Before I passed out into a semi-paralytic sleep, I recorded my thoughts on Open Office on my phone. I record them below for 'posterity' (aka 'what the fuck?).
Much needed explanations can be found for some of this in '[]' brackets.
Dead eyed fish [I remember what this means; imagine being so drunk you can't walk, so you are half asleep on the floor and you try to crawl towards the glass of vodka/water, but your legs don't cooperate, so you flop forwards like a fish on dry land, dead eyed in your intoxication] trying to swim through our lives or at the very least to a pen [in order to express ourselves] but succeeding only in flopping there; both literally and metaphorically as the exhaustion of an existence burdened by the truth of life [the truth of life? Something to do with the revelation of Camus I have since forgotten] weighs us down so we can only flop and lollop to our outlet. is this why Richey starved? did he mistake this weight of realisation for the weight of bodies?
Fuck democracy coma; this is mediocrity death [pretty much just quoting MSP here....and referring to my job].
In my mind there are screams, a cacophony I could describe to you if only the words had been invented. it's as though I'm singing 'lalala' all day long then to sleep I turn the soundtrack off only to hear the baseline is a song and it's what I've been trying to drown out.
Nonsense sentences are nothing of the sort. Too many thoughts for the narrow construction of language to contain, forces us to press it into new ways of use, so it still doesn't come close to accurate representation but at least it is deconstructed from its normal [?!] forms. Richey told Nicky his truth [or so says 'Nailed to History'] and all that did is scare and confuse him [i.e. Nicky] but it should have illuminated him to his internal land/soundscape because 'nonsense' sentences are really the reflection of pure thought.
if Richey needed to know if Apocalypse Now was telling the truth [more reference to passages in Nailed to History] and I need to know if Richey was telling the truth does that mean that Richey is a fiction or that Colonel Kurtz is real?
All that 'free writing' [i.e. what I think I'm doing at this point] means is trying to commit to paper the truth of the mind - however distorted that might be, it still has the integrity of truth; people accuse you of wilful pretension or, worse still, deception through misdirection but in truth it is they who are misled by the silence in their heads. [quite. 0_0]
It's a lot like when I watched The Man Who Fell to Earth when I was drunk on rum to the point I couldn't remember my own name, but for the first time that film made sense. Or when I go really stoned and understood 'Motown Junk' in a way no person ever had before and insisted everyone I knew listen to it *right now*. A week of fucked up sleeping habits and a night of heavy drinking with a bit of mania thrown in for good measure makes for some entertaining reading.
I hope to contribute something intelligent to Dreamwidth in the next two weeks. although don't hold your breath as I'm currently reading 1984 and the last 249839 times I read that it gave me paranoia-based nightmares....
