response

j-kiss left this comment regarding my previous post:

"hey Mr. gray, your quality life of is directly related to your perception of life. lighten up! I know, I know, you can't lighten up. you love living is a cesspool of gray and black matter. your probably better off there anyway, it's hell being happy!"

Firstly, did you read my change post??
Secondly, for you to assume that I was depressed because I quoted this passage from Fight Club is wrong. That quote expresses a quiet frustration among many regarding what our society deems to be 'important'.
Moreover, Fight Club is about breaking yourself down, deconstructing one's self to become someone better, returning to a beginning.
Our society (or is it simply the media?) constructs gods out of marginally talented 'artists' who contribute very little, if anything meaningful at all, to our lives. Are our own lives so empty that we must build these larger than life figures? This is why we must break down, deconstruct and return to the genisus -- a reevaluation of our lives.
What holes are we trying to fill with our culture of excess? We live in a 25 hour-fast food-plastic surgery-celebrity sex tape-carnival. We've got politicians like 3 am infomercial hosts marketing and selling tragedies for their own PR campaigns. "We are mighty and we are victorious. We are images, moving." It's a photo opp. A sound byte. A one dimensional image, flat. Fake. Cosmetic.
Picture a chimp strapped to a stainless steel table, fluorescent light reflects off the white walls, the white floor, the steel table, the pupils of the creature. Picture more straps. White straps keeping is hairy head in place. Straps to keep his eyelids open and unflinching. Straps suspending a monitor, a CRT tube, a television screen flashing images, quick and fast: 900 numbers for faceless women talking dirty, used car salesmen, fantastic explosions from Hollywood films, Africa's starving children, new drugs for new diseases, aborted fetuses, decapitated hostages, photographs of lost children from 1997, breaking news footage and talking heads promising new graphic video of mayhem, fuzzy sitcoms from the '70s, black and white footage of white cops beating black youth from the '60s, skeletons wrapped in yellow skin with dead needles surrounding. Images. Flashing.
The chimp's body tingles, crawls like every living soul on this planet. We see what he sees but now, now we're numb. Distant. Lost. Out of touch. Lost in the colours of a new gadget, a new movie, a new sitcom, a new drug, something else. We've stopped paying attention but we'll gladly pay for the new sensation. The latest kick.
We've stopped paying attention.
A force the size of life, a force of immense weight is on top of us. Crushing our sternum, ribs, cranium, femurs, bones, heart and soul. But we're numb.
And we've stopped paying attention.
We've constructed gods out of Botox injected flesh, plastic bone, neon lights and special effects to keep us at bay, entertained.

D E C O N S T R U C T

B R E A K - D O W N

To define ourselves we must confine ourselves from everything but ourselves. A Force of immense weight, of great presence, crushing beautiful. A manifestation.

Here, this is my response.

mc