How intelligent do you feel? Because I think I’m pretty stupid, there is a ceiling of comprehension I sometimes bounce my head on, but most of time I don’t even know it exists I’m that ignorant. And, stupid in comparison to all kinds of things, really. What strikes me most is that I have a supercomputer and only use 10% of it, or there abouts. That’s like a child playing games on their brand new smartphone, satiated with the highs and lows of Angry Birds, already out of fashion, and just as predictable and repeatable.
I watch a lot of football and can appreciate the difficulty of getting a team of players to organise themselves effectively, to groupthink and anticipate eachother’s actions before they even think of it, and then I look down at the floor and watch ants in perfect unison, that groupthink hivemind action, utterly, and innately knowing their jobs on this universe adding and building for the future of their homemade colony today and everyday. I used to play football, but I can’t get the swerve I used to get anymore. Shifting the air dynamics around the spherical shape of the ball by kicking it with more surface area of the inside of the foot on the ball’s axis to provoke further rotation and swerve. My vision is gone too, it’s plain I am not an ant on the pitch… Shit, imagine getting administerial offices to work cohesively. Police forces. Trading… How do the Mafia do it? Fear, I suppose.
I spoke to a retired psychotherapist yesterday and asked him questions on the science of questions, if he had read certain books I had read, and why he had retreated into a dead end job like I had. This, a person who’s travailed through six years of medicine school, proven himself with exams and supervision during therapy, an older man, born in the 50s… His wife said they should retire, and he did. She’s staying on for a few more years though, her decision.
I’m currently reading Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse, the book that allowed her to afford a car. It is immense as a prime mover of modern literature after the Great War. Her exceptional lyrical phrasing of narratorial nothingness captures life at its essence. I’ve recently finished a translation of Paulo Coelho’s bestseller The Alchemist, it’s poorly written, but it’s touched the soul of millions, a difficult ability imbued within something one can pick up and look at and change spiritually. If I don’t compare myself to these, then who should we compare ourselves to? These were people who lived an everyday life, like I have, suffered this banality, and in their brief time they’ve created majestic things because of a captivatingly intelligent understanding of human nature. This is something I seek to do to stop this stupid feeling.
This is the only LP by Deep Puddle Dynamics, released in 1999, titled The Taste of Rain… Why Kneel? This is probably my favourite rap record I’ve come across so far. Its lyrics are about the most inspiring I’ve heard and feel about right.