On a summer evening the best place to be is outdoors. This
leads to multiple options when you live downtown. The easiest would be to sit
on your own terrace if you had one, but the trends of modern apartment design
don't lend easily to this. The builders want you to get out, have a beer or a
coffee at the sidewalk cafes. Feed the economy. So this is what I do - go out
and have a few drinks at the bars with outdoor seating. I take my economic
duties as a citizen seriously. In order to prevent myself from turning
alcoholic I follow a simple rule and only go drinking on alternate days. Much
like the parking system on the streets. One day off and the next on. Simple and
effective.
These interludes are essential to prevent my mind from descending into total decay. It's not that I vegetate all the time, just that I vegetate less with alcohol. It's like holding the keys to the kingdom of the mind in one's hand. People and situations become instantly more interesting as perceptions get enhanced and inhibitions are lowered. It's a two way street, a symbiotic process. Dynamism in its most stripped down and natural sense. Brownian motion, electron flow, energy equivalence - all leading seamlessly to that same universal entropy. Beautiful if you can see it that way. Or if not, there's always room for diversity of opinion. Diversity is the life force of ideation.
Cut to the present. The lesbian just left the table of the Apple trio, which leaves only the gay intellectual and the waitress with the man issues. The connection seems good between these two as they discuss how life and relationships need to be managed better. The plump girl, or woman, at the table beside me seems intent on closing the loop with the Berkeley alumnus that she's overtly trying to seduce, as he denounces the covert misogyny in current television. No way would he fit in the next dive bar I will visit as the night grows longer. He seems to have a theory against masculinity in all forms, yet one senses that he is a player in his own estimation. Joe the bartender really doesn't care as long as his target numbers are on track. We share a quiet smile.
Some hours have passed. And many drinks. One true fact about alcohol is the clear distinction it creates between the thinkers and the doers. Neither of which comes out on top at the end of a contest. Does the simplicity rule of the tech geek who professes the truth of the first error message surpass the fastest chugger of the slamming contest? Is all this going to make a difference in a world still dominated by the military -industrial complex and self-affirming civilization-driven globalisers? Probably not. The end result is excretion - from whatever end it exits. The all-holy purge that renews the purity of self.
It was a good morning. Thank God I didn't mix my drinks or my principles.
Bring it on, life! Here I am and here I will always stand. Purity at its absolute best. Judge my ass if you want to, I like it fine the way it is.
These interludes are essential to prevent my mind from descending into total decay. It's not that I vegetate all the time, just that I vegetate less with alcohol. It's like holding the keys to the kingdom of the mind in one's hand. People and situations become instantly more interesting as perceptions get enhanced and inhibitions are lowered. It's a two way street, a symbiotic process. Dynamism in its most stripped down and natural sense. Brownian motion, electron flow, energy equivalence - all leading seamlessly to that same universal entropy. Beautiful if you can see it that way. Or if not, there's always room for diversity of opinion. Diversity is the life force of ideation.
Cut to the present. The lesbian just left the table of the Apple trio, which leaves only the gay intellectual and the waitress with the man issues. The connection seems good between these two as they discuss how life and relationships need to be managed better. The plump girl, or woman, at the table beside me seems intent on closing the loop with the Berkeley alumnus that she's overtly trying to seduce, as he denounces the covert misogyny in current television. No way would he fit in the next dive bar I will visit as the night grows longer. He seems to have a theory against masculinity in all forms, yet one senses that he is a player in his own estimation. Joe the bartender really doesn't care as long as his target numbers are on track. We share a quiet smile.
Some hours have passed. And many drinks. One true fact about alcohol is the clear distinction it creates between the thinkers and the doers. Neither of which comes out on top at the end of a contest. Does the simplicity rule of the tech geek who professes the truth of the first error message surpass the fastest chugger of the slamming contest? Is all this going to make a difference in a world still dominated by the military -industrial complex and self-affirming civilization-driven globalisers? Probably not. The end result is excretion - from whatever end it exits. The all-holy purge that renews the purity of self.
It was a good morning. Thank God I didn't mix my drinks or my principles.
Bring it on, life! Here I am and here I will always stand. Purity at its absolute best. Judge my ass if you want to, I like it fine the way it is.
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