Wednesday, June 6, 2012

The Most Offensive thing I've ever written - or Daniel Krone's "The Real Meaning of Life"


WARNING THIS RANT IF WRITTEN CORRECTLY WILL OFFEND PEOPLE 

I'M NOT KIDDING . . . . 

= ^.^ =  < - - - Smiley kitten face

Fuck, cunt, muffins, weasel, old fish smell . . . . . okay so that non-sequator should clear this article from being read by anyone too squeamish. 
* All of my best friends are hippies, metal heads, beatniks, punks, and people on the fringes whose idea of a good weekend is getting loaded, seeing a show and possibly hooking up with a stranger.

I see nothing wrong with that. 

What is life if not to embrace the warm strange echos of irrationality that brood like legion in the back of your throat reminding you that years ago you were once an animal and not civilized. I dream of the day that every person on earth understands this…but I doubt such an orgasmic epiphany will come in any future generation I'll belong to. 

Super heros, social networks, books about sex - read by virgins, books about drugs - read by the sober, films about romance - made by people who've never dared to fall in love. Fuck this world; God, Gaia, the great turtle, the great elephant, the sun, the moon, the giant cosmic snake, Buddha, Jesus, and any other  deity that might offend anyone who uses such wordily teachings as a crutch to avoid true human experiences. 

Teenagers and about 10 years past are the greatest experiencers this world has ever seen. From 17 - 30 all you want to do is fuck, fight, fly, and dream . . . . and perhaps after that you settle down. 

If it wasn't for pussy and pot there would be no art - an overstatement for sure. We would all see this world through the same perceptions fluctuating subtly but not as drastically as would be for social evolution to legitimately occur. Our fiction inspires our reality our reality inspires our fiction . . . the world is influenced by the musings of dreamers who dare to dream and we gleam gold from their cold grasp and then ostracize them for being different. 

I praise the weirdos; secretly we all do. But I'll publicly do it in this somewhat unusual rant on the "Meaning of Life" the thing is…there is no such thing as "The Meaning of Life" the closest thing I've found with that title is a mediocre semi-phoned-in Monty Python movie. The idea of the "Meaning of Life" is as important as the "Meaning" of a Jackson Pollack painting. What does it mean to you ? 

Great sex, great food, great company, great stories, a good nights sleep, a sense of purpose, hope that someone will remember you, hope that someone will love you. Then you'll die, some earlier, some later, but sure enough you will. 

And if you spend your nights worrying if you should have made decisions diff erently rather than just making different ones in the future than you've truly learned nothing fixating on something so little that leaves you 'grounded' is ignoring the fact that you could fly Further without a ground attached to your blistered fucking human hide.  

I do not do hard drugs, just a beer, maybe a red wine, or something stronger if I'm adventurous. 

Woman are possible the hardest drug I've ever indulged in. 

And it's so difficult to get the ones you want to work & when they hit you don't even feel the high til years after they're gone. 

Chemicals inside a small sack of neurons insulated in some fat cells, run a structure made of meat and some substance. And most of us live in fear. For what, the inevitable, the unexpected, nothing, God?  Fuck that shit, I'd rather get loaded and see a show than wonder if the show will be any good or if the load will be too big to carry?  

I'd rather spend forever in hell knowing that during my life I touched some amazing people and perhaps the edge of that unexpected void of happiness that's impossibly to explain to someone who wasn't even there, than spend a lifetime in heaven regretting not experiencing the earth and it's people as I truly was meant to. 

The blunt truth is some nuero-chemical bond happened possibly in a glance at a distance between my mother and my father many many moons ago, they fell in love (you know 'love' noradrenaline, dopamine, epinephrine, and various other potent cocktails) ((Okay so I'm probably not accurate on the brain chemistry)) and had some sex and viola I was born some time later (almost dead and really tiny, but born none the less) I spent my youth in Alabama, eating legitimate good seafood, spending time with my wonderful family, and learning about Jesus and how many Egyptians God murdered (yeah kind of a lot of mixed messages for a kid to take in) but alas I learned. Dancing is bad, vampires are evil, and many other messages that don't make much sense in retrospect. But I do remember the sermon on the mount where Jesus did speak rather specifically about the evils of 'the mashed potato' and 'the twist'. 

And then I woke up. I woke up in the form of a woman, blond hair, nice figure, scared shitless by life, scarred violently by it, her mind somewhere between beauty and terror…you know…a teenage girl. 2 1/2 years of very strange adventures and nights lost mostly in eyes and thought. Then a goodbye kiss, there is no god without love, and there is no love without me…I don't exist, who am I?, why would god do this too me, I thought I'd figured out the world…we'd get married, raise kids…never happened. I was promised the American dream, but I'd ignored the the Human dream. Well the fuck that experience. I'm going to get loaded and go to as many shows as possible…and so I moved to the land of loads & shows LAS VEGAS…nah just fucking with you Los Angeles. And began my adventures which led me to such irrational thinking as I have today. 

I realized how fun the adventure of chasing & catching things is. I realized that atmosphere is more important than possessions and a good memory is more important than trying to have other people remember me. And arbitrary life promises aren't worth the pain of breaking them. 

Holding onto grudges, fear of looking stupid, jealousy, it's all just bullshit man. ALL OF IT. Love, live, run, dream, fight, die . . . that's what life is. 


I'd rather tell a joke that bombed and forget about it, than wonder what people will think of me if I did and not tell it at all. 

"Laugh and the world laughs with you . . . weep and you weep alone."

"It's the place where you lose yourself and the place where you find yourself"    

  * (If you read the fullness of my blog you'll see that my mind jumps sporadically from subject to subject, much like nightcrawler's teleportation, and I've probably tackled this type of rant before.) *

Every young generation discovers the rebels of its past. 

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