[fragment] Ideas Mean Nothing
[fragment :chair: :robot: :pen:]
Have it your way and we’ll all be better for it. I’m not sure what that means, or why people keep saying it. They may not be directing the words at me. Do I sound crazy? Like them, I am waiting and watching. At the end of all this I am unable to work, unable to think for myself, and unable to say that I’m any good at anything. What for? Why get good at any of it? What is getting good at any of it?
There is nothing now but performing. The THING to get good at is performing. You become very, very adept at pretending like you’re adept at a thing you cannot be adept at. It’s pretty simple, actually: no one ever thinks of it this way; everyone thinks of it this way. Do not drink the daily wisdom. Stop listening to your superiors. Old witches who sit atop logs espouse crazy, useless words. The wizards? Oh, oh no, you’re still listening to them?
[fragment :chair: :witch: :wizard: :log: 🐸]
I don’t believe any of this: we’re at the end of it. The end of craft and the end of pretending that anyone ever cared about craft. We aren’t getting better. We are getting better: at speaking, at pretending, at on and on and on and droning, generative nonsense.
[fragment :one-could-argue-that-is-always-what-we-have-done:]
I sit down with my friends and have a beer. At the end of that beer I’m droning, I’m generating dribble and waxing about waxing and wandering around a point. I am fueled by alcohol. I make an inference: starts with a book I read, then mixes in with that beer, and the life I lead, and some random chance. So I say, “I think materialism comes out of the same thought exercise Plato was going through, just with more history to go off of.”
Does that make sense? Maybe. It does to me as I say it. My friend nods. Now there’s an idea in the air, in the metaphysical thought-space between us. We’re able to play with it and mold it and squish it. Immaterial–but it is there.
[fragment :chair: 🍻 :idea:]
All I’m saying is that I’d like to play. I’d like to work with other people. A community of dunces. Even if I’m a predetermined, will-less Stoic, I still want to play catch with an idea and have it mean nothing.