Public Displays Of Seduction

Last week a friend said my blog is getting too abstract. It’s not suited for mass consumption. Is my purpose to enlighten or entertain? A little humor couldn’t hurt.

Another friend told me to write for me, that the sharing is special and it matters little how much attention (or traffic) it generates.

I take pride in maintaining my blog. Every sentence is measured, every mark right where it belongs. It’s about infusing the prose with poetry or actually posting a poem (sometimes with commentary). I enjoy developing the blog’s lyrical qualities, the rhythm of writing and re-writing. I get excited by a spontaneous turn of phrase. There’s pleasure in creating paradox and leaving things open to interpretation. Often the form takes precedence over the content as I imitate writers I admire, trying different styles on for size.

What to include, what to tone down, what to keep to myself—the process is exhilarating. Writing serves as therapy, confession, an outlet for suppressed emotions.

My blog is a talk with myself before an audience composed of people I know and people I’ll never meet. It’s a conversation affording me a chance to express myself and claim my humanity as my own. Even when the subject is dark or dense the object is to have fun and just go with it.

To tease ideas and play with words, entice the mind with images. To seduce and be seduced: is this not a gesture of love, devotion to a body of thought?

Did You Find Everything OK?

A man wants everything but has only wishes that never come true—that can’t come true—because Satisfaction is insatiable. He is never happy with himself. At his peak he yearns to extend the climb. Climax portends disappointment.

The Super Bowl MVP celebrating his victory declares he’ll return next year for another title. On the surface it appears he wants to improve, to secure fulfillment, to activate hidden potential. But this is a humanist viewpoint in need of a consumerist perspective.

Mankind has advanced to the point where artificial needs are introduced to us, enlarged to show texture. Manufactured desires, fabricated passions: with many of our basic needs met, we’re left with suggested servings and product reviews. Energies spent, our solution is to Spend.

There’s no transcending the marketplace. It’s no longer a matter of Good versus Evil, but excellent versus poor credit. Besides, Utopia would get boring quickly. There would be no drama, no free shipping, no need to clip Groupons.

Consumer-man is a fretting optimist. He has faith in a culture that assumes he’s never good enough. Discontent is built into the system. There’s a market for every deficiency and each cure restores his health in time for the nausea to settle in again.

The purchase fails to soothe me. At the point of sale I look to exchange my choice, guilty for the price I’ve paid. But I’ve misplaced my receipt. Out of line, back in line. Every day a step closer to checkout.