I like Arcade Fire a lot (The Album Funeral) (869 hits)
Category: RomanceRating: 1.56 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Chinaski (View user info) at 2005-02-27 17:32:02 EST
Eric Fromm, noted psychologist from one of those centuries prior to this one, or maybe it was just the last one, wrote a candid and inspirational book called "The Art Of Loving". In it he argues, or more aptly persuades, that love is an artform to be aspired towards and worked at, rather than something which just "falls into one's lap". Nearly every page, if not every paragraph, contains a gem of some sort. He devotes a lot of energy to formulating (old-hash?) theories of man as living in a virtual "prison cell" of loneliness because of his "seperateness".
Nearly everything we do as humans is to try to forget, transcend, or defeat our aloneness and escape.
He points out, aptly, that the sexual experience is one excellent, though brief, way for two people to transcend their seperateness. True, it can, especially the orgasm, be transcendental.
I had this book in my backpack when I went to Oakland last night. The girl I would be meeting and sleeping with had a book on her desk I saw this morning upon awakening. It was entitled "The Ethical Slut".
When I took the BART over last night, (rapid transit system), I was well aware I should be entering perhaps the closest thing to the modern hippie movement around... a place for the Hunter S. Thompsons of the world, a place for a gregarious Charles Bukowski if he ever existed. I wasn't aware of QUITE how wild the parties last night would be. Have you heard of Burning Man, the preeminent art/drug/pleasure festival of the United States, as they describe it? This is what happens to it the rest of the year. In fact, this is over and above Burning Man in many ways.
I arrived at the station stop and walked to the house through the drizzling rain, through the dilapadated, not yet gentrified ghetto. Cars drove too fast; cars slowed down and burned rubber and coughed grey lumpia plumes into the air. I kept my gaze down. I arrived at the house. It was large, green, well-kept from the outside. Inside was near-chaos. (Overstatement). It was messy and crowded. At least 10 or 12 people lived there. There were the very skinny vegan lesbians, one of whom had her nipples, erect as fence posts, straining against her shirt. Another wore thick-rimmed glasses and shared her applesauce-flavored, oilless baked goods. My 'friend' was there, her room in the back, cluttered, virtually empty. I noticed with amazement- truly- her room looked exactly like my friend's. Same futon frame. Same futon. By god, there was the same type of wool blanket on the futon. It was astounding- surely, surely it meant something. Certainly- both are sex fiends. That must be the connection. I don't know exactly how, but have you noticed? You never need to know the exacts. If you have the lead or a piece of the idea you know what comes next. It's almost always the same pattern for everyone, everything. I believe this is part of what makes us boring and bored as we age? Action/response- you always know what's coming next.
People give up in certain ways, they give up certain things to have other, illusive things. Many of the kids in this house probably had given up having a healthy liver for the happy dynamic of group drinknig. There was the sex issue; there is always weirdness around sex, how everyone uses it to their own purpose. I am cultivating and protecting sensitivity so sex and love can entertwine; like Eric Fromm says, if you are using sex for the elusive brief transcendace it provides alone, it will soon lose power, and I feel you have given up something potentially very important. Perhaps useful. Indubitably beautiful. Indelible if you do it right.
The Ethical Slut. Yet who am I to critique? Noone is critiquing me. Perhaps I should have "wrapped my shit up" (friend on AIM) and "gone to town". Have some fun.
I didn't, though.
We made it to a party close by. It was amazing. The whole beautiful old Victorian house was rocking. A very skillful DJ was spinning WILD, WILD drum and bass and ... I don't know what. Kids were flailing/dancing like rats buzzing around on an electrified floor.
My acquaintance sat up against me on a chair. I had been acting very withdrawn. I was watching, but very tired, little sleep, you know. She pointed to a tall, mysterious young man. He wore a beanie which obscured his face. He seemed nice. He was dancing strangely. Doing his own thing... unfortunately cropped up caught up in the sights of others, so his dance was jerky, odd, not freeing for him or those who watched. "He drops his pants several times a day and screams," she told me. I said something stupid (inane). She went off... I went outside...
I was starting to get drunk. Oh, and I had gotten very, very high before coming over. Far too high for my shit to be together. It was starting to come together as I drank my cares away. They were almost gone...
I was on the dancefloor, dancing, shaking my body and arms, wild, wild, jumping all around. I danced erratically with a spastic girl. The DJ shook and quivered and pumped up the music. He was very very good. I kept dancing, spasming towards that orgiastic dervish innocence...
The punks arrived. There was a pitbull fight. A large kid with the leer of the doomed soldier. He stared at me as I stood in line to buy a beer (benefit the queer something art something, Charles Shaw wine, 1.50, tecate, 2 dollars). I stared at him in the eyes for 15 seconds. No blinking. He stared at me grinning his behind-the-eyes malice. It poked my resolve, scratched, slid away. I slipped back into the living room, went outside, warmed myself on the fire. I snuck a look around. The poor lost people with their desperate search to escape seperateness looked back at me. I am an outsider. What I have, I must protect.
The other girl I went on a date with earlier this week- the girl I had a crush on 8 years ago in high school. She thanked me for taking her out dancing. Don't thank me, I said, I don't know what to do. You're welcome but I also had fun. There's no need to keep thanking me.
But, she said, you have to be polite.
And when talking about the yawning generation gap of offspring to parents- she said, all you can do is love them.
Was it all I should have done, to just love these people? When you try there are so many who hate you for it. I was once invincible for a time, socially. It was a wonderful freeing- I was not seperate. In fact, they were, and I could pull them in like a dummy fish and... help them feel ok, really. Fleeting, fleeting time(s)...
We left early, before the punk show began. I was drunk... my head was reeling, reeling. God, was I going to puke? Swimming, swirling, devious head. Devious alcohol. Thinking was hard, my head hurt. We got to her bed. I had to have water. I laid down. Please slow down head. She said, "Take off all your clothes." I had to laugh- she really said that. I was much too drunk. This was not the time to stick my penis in a vagina. This was not that time at all. I couldn't have cared what she thought... I only kicked off my shoes. But I held her for a while, went to sleep holding her hand. I woke up this morning, she was in the kitchen... she same in later and undressed in front of me...
When I was 17 I was backpacking through Europe. I had a girlfriend at the time in the states. I loved her too much (and vice versa for some of the time we were together). I would not cheat on her; I am a romantic. It would have been an evil thing.
We were at the only bar in town, in an Italian coastal town, my friend and I. There was live blues and I walked a girl back to her apartment. She invited me in and I decided to see how far it would go, for my ego's sake. We sat on the couch; she told me about fucking a sailor when she was 13... I was disgusted... why are you like this, life? Why do you fuck us all up? She said, you can leave if you feel uncomfortable. I had told her about my girlfriend. Now she wanted to fuck. I should have fucked her, maybe? It certainly would have been fun. I have to go the bathroom, she said, she walked over there and I turned around and she was naked... I stood up... and left.
My friend couldn't understand. He was short and jewish (still is) and I don't believe he'd ever kissed a girl. But in San Francisco I would sit in my girlfriend's car and kiss her for hours while we told each other we loved the other. Often we might cry. And she was so, so beautiful, arched mediterannean eastern european beauty, royalty, almost.
Her parents made us break up... we never had that much sex... but oh, wasn't that worth it. I knew the sweetness of childhood again, and that is nearly impossible.
So do you all see why I don't just fuck?
When you do you're a wheel of cheese, and there's an arm- it is your own- slicing off layers. Perhaps very thinly. Nonetheless, I am a bigger wheel than most, and I can still roll without too much bone-jarring. I feel very fortunate.
And as the loner, I can observe. Mostly, I can observe myself.
Well... that's it.
User Reviews
Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2005-10-11 03:36:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Interesting read.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2005-08-07 17:38:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+1 for The Arcade Fire.
+1 because I empathize.
Nice work.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2005-04-07 12:20:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It wasn't bad.
Submitted by Zoidberg (user info) at 2005-04-06 00:46:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
this was dumb too (wonder if I can inspire more retaliation?)
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2005-03-13 14:01:05 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
just dumb.
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2005-03-08 23:05:20 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
And only you would flame it. Retard.
Submitted by Chinaski (user info) at 2005-03-01 00:50:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Chinaski (user info) at 2005-02-28 22:22:11 (#)
Ranking: -2
Only a retardedly addicted "uber" "addict" would post an article like Kai's.
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2005-03-01 00:34:12 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/60855
Having a tough time on Uber? People hate you? You hate everyone? Posting every day, but you really have nothing to say? Get banned lots? You may have an Uberproblem...
Oh, it creeps up on you. Sure, you make a post everyone loves, and you get a bunch of +2's or whatever. Life is lovely. Your next post may hit or miss. If it hits, you have a reputation to protect; if it misses, you want to get back on top ASAP. If you come to realize what the MVA and Most Heated lists are all about, you may just as well have discovered heroin. To some, the temptations are irresistable, the pressures unbearable. The easy way out is to keep pumping out the crap just to get hits, engage in running battles with your latest Uber nemesis or just take pot shots at the big targets on the MVA. By this point you aren't posting for your own enjoyment any longer; you're doing it for Ubersite, and the demons contained therein. GONE are all the cool stories of your insane youth, original compositions or just plain funny shit, and instead we are left with yet another Uber Fucktard stirring the Ubergossip pot looking for attention by mentioning other Uberite's names. How utterly fucking boring for new people AND people with lives who don't gave a fuck about the idiots on this site.
Does this post bug you already? Then I'm talking to you. You are an Uberholic. You're here every single day, posting shit while the real world around you forgets who you are (and vice versa). The experience is different for different people. People who once liked you on Uber now think you are an ass. Many female Uberusers will not see a dip in their overall ratings (indeed Uber's ratings ranks are dominated by Uberwomen who have mastered the skanky reply to the hordes of lonely geeks who +2 them in order to gain favor + maybe a private cam show), but will shift from initially writing good stories poems etc. to boob camwhores and gossip posts. Experiments with shock photos (goatse, tubgirl, Gidget etc.) are definite signs of Uberdistress. I won't go into detailed diagnosis, the bottom line is that Uberaddiction becomes an issue as soon as you suspect that Uberaddiction MIGHT be a problem.
I'm not talking about the posts of dyed in the wool n00b shitheads here - lord knows we have a lot of those and always will. I'm calling out long time Uberusers who, like me, have lost focus on exactly why they come here & what they post. For instance, I know that initially I enjoyed the anonymity of Uber and the attention that my posts got; soon, I was no longer anonymous, and I started taking some of the jealous trash talk that was directed at me personally. Instead of being my funny and insightful self, I jumped right in the Uberslime pit and started muckraking, with good writing taking a back seat to getting both attention and revenge. That is a fight nobody can win.
But, help is finally here. The 12 Steps of Uberholics Anonymous .
1) We admitted we were powerless over our addiction to the postings of a bunch of internet retards - and that somehow our own posting habits had become unmanageable
2) Came to believe that actually "getting a life' could restore us to something close to what most people could call "sanity"
3) Made a decision to reclaim our will and our lives from the online twentysomething popularity contest known as Ubersite
4) Made a searching and fearless inventory of our own postings and really realized that the only posts we have quality control over are our own
5) Admitted to bart, to ourselves and to the rest of Uber the exact nature of our shitty posts.
6) Were entirely ready to start posting shit that won't result in -2's or being banned
7) Humbly refrain from posting until we had come up with something that at the very least shows effort and forethought
8) Fuck step 8. Everyone deserves a break!
9) Made a mental list of all persons we had consistently -2'd and resolved to avoid their posts in the future
10) refrain from making posts that mention bart or other Uberusers, their body parts or their sexuality. Exceptions made for QUALITY hate/love posts and camwhore/n00b taunting, which will always be "de riguer" on this site.
11) Made direct amends to people you have fucked over on Uber by reading their shit with an open mind, rating appropriately and avoiding them if they are just too fucked in the head.
12) Continued to take personal posting inventory and when we wrote shitty posts, promptly admitted it. Always trying to write something BETTER than the last thing we wrote, we tried to carry this message to other Uberusers, and to practice these principles in all our Uber affairs
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Ooops! Temporary relapse!
Submitted by engine13 (user info) at 2005-02-28 17:07:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I can't quite place why but I really liked this.
Submitted by hungovermondays (user info) at 2005-02-28 15:45:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
do they still do the burning man?
I thought they canned it years ago, but then again I havn't looked in on it in years.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-02-28 08:44:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-02-28 08:37:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MichaelJackson (user info) at 2005-02-28 04:42:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 for the Arcade Fire
Submitted by Rawrg (user info) at 2005-02-28 02:38:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
TONIGHT SUCKS, +2S FOR ALL!!!
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2005-02-27 23:29:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Amazing.
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2005-02-27 22:00:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yes a damn good read.
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2005-02-27 20:59:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by NerfHerder (user info) at 2005-02-27 19:56:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Didn't think id get all the way through it. But I did, and I'm glad.
Submitted by Rope (user info) at 2005-02-27 19:34:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Brilliant. I love how this flits from one scene to the next without feeling disjointed.
Submitted by mikethescottish (user info) at 2005-02-27 18:22:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The most impressive post i've read in a fair while- rambling, but literate and never disjointed. I think the word i'm looking for is 'immersive'.
Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2005-02-27 18:07:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I really like the way this is written.