Back to the Future

It's been a hectic couple months, but I've decided to return to my blog in lieu of the fact that I have nothing better to do. I'm pretty sure that in the time from my last post to this one I moved from Portland to San Francisco, so it's probably been an issue of wanting to get acclimated to my surroundings which has prevented me from reviving this sucker earlier.

I think another thing that prevented me from working on this more often is the fact that I always wanted this to be a topic driven blog; a place that was more about opinions and culture than about me trying to celebritize myself as someone worth following. I'm not trying to say that I disagree with people who do stuff like that, it's just not my personal thing. I like ideas and concepts, and those are things I don't see all that often in a setting like this. Maybe I'm just operating in the wrong capacity and should concern myself with means taken more seriously than blogging, but it's not like I haven't always been backwards in quite a few ways, so my stubbornness should be nothing new.

Why something meandering like this? Why not reignite the torch with something more in tune with what I wanted this blog to represent? The answer to that is that is simple: I'm fucking tired and don't really want to deal with anything too complex right now. I've got three hungry cats circling me like sharks with a certain mutiny in their eye, and the terror is climbing up my soul to my esophagus. I have no way to remedy this situation -we're out of food- and all I can do is sit and wait for a more responsible adult to come home with the means to assuage this maddening typhoon of mews.

Diving into a new tangent, I've been doing a lot of creative writing lately, which means I haven't been wasting my time entirely. About a year ago I was overcome with this issue where I couldn't read fiction anymore, and that's something I'm still wrestling with. I've read a couple books by Jonathan Lethem and Roberto Bolano recently, but aside from that it's been slim pickins in the fiction department. I'm lead to believe this is why I've been doing more creative writing of late, and I've been pretty pleased with the results. My writing seems more breathable, more authentic to myself, which is a major point of contention I've always harped on myself about. I've got a lot of stuff that if I were to just type it and polish it a bit would probably be publishable, but for whatever reason I can't seem to climb that hump. I'll do it when I feel more comfortable, more relaxed within myself.

Since I haven't been reading fiction I've been more focused on nonfiction, reading a fuckton of books on space, the space race, military intelligence, the CIA and government secrecy. It seems the way all this stuff culminates is in me being interested in the ownership of ideas and information, and the effects that has on both sides of the issues. I'm an unapologetic fan of the Moon landing and the space race in general, believing it to be a romantic gesture that propelled human thought and inspiration, a sort of distant-look approach to the times and the world that I wish was more readily available today. People are mired in the idea that we need to improve the quality of living around the world -something I wholeheartedly agree with- but there's also the fact that an approach like that wears on you because of how fucked up things can actually be. It seems entirely human that we clean our palette occasionally with a romantic gesture to show what we're capable of. Not something that serves to fix any nagging problem or solves any sort of claustrophobic social issue, but instead just demonstrates that we're capable of doing something we think is beautiful on a large scale. I dunno, I just think there are a lot of ways to put on rosy glasses and view an event of the moon landing's magnificence.

I'm sure this entry doesn't tie together in the most cohesive way, but it serves as an example for me. Proof that I'm still thinking, still able to look at something and extract something I want to say from it. It also serves to get the ball rolling, which is a simple problem that gets significantly amplified over a span of time. Whatever, consider this mutherfucker resurrected.