We read the word ‘deadlines’ as ‘deadliness’ since we’ve
been the victims of procrastination. And what is ‘procrastination’ but a
yearning to escape? Hopefully, popular music will address this phenomenon by
deploying lyrics that rhyme with yearn, yearning, yearned.
The earth does not procrastinate. Its crust, its mantle, its
tectonic geometry drifts, sometimes in countermelody, to the planet’s general
‘spin’. So, too, shall Regional Dwellers drift in countermelody or ‘dischord’ to
the deadlines or deadliness.
Regional Dwellers are a peace-loving peoples, who don’t favor
traditional Mono-Deity as they worship, but instead, geo-seismic
activity. If worship means a ‘devotion’ that is intended to subdue the rogue
element, the object of the worship.
To be sure, one worships the volcano because one fears the
volcano. Should the volcano erupt anyway (see ‘deadlines’ above) then Regional
Dwellers typically implore the ocean—in prayer—to arrive, to extinguish the
volcano. (By gale.)
Of course, this makes hella more sense than Mono-Deity, but
in fact, oftentimes, the ocean arrives and misses the volcano entirely. Then you’ve
got—well, not so much fire and ice—yet—fire and brine. What to worship then? The
mongoose?
No, I was not discussing the pornography inherent in our
political terminologies, but since you insist, I shall digress: ‘Filibuster’:
From Latin firmus (strong) + libido (caprice) + ustilo (scorch) + tergum
(rear). There. Are you happy, Senator?
I have searched for a philosophical system that can unify
all the disparate Elements inherent in our world. I read about a Soup-“S’up!”-Swiffer
Collider, where broths, bro-greetings, and alt-cleanliness were being pinged
off one another at atomic rates of speed. It’s one available tack.
In the absence of systems, Inebriation looms. One worships
incrementally, by whiz or by dram. Regional Dwellers turn to Inebriation
whether or not the volcano and ocean respond. There’s a point, I suppose, to
medicating happiness. All things border other things, after all. Inoculate yourself at all times!
I got stuck in the elevator the other day when a Billy Idol song
fizzled onto the Muzak system. A woman in the elevator explained that she felt 50
percent incomplete as a person, and she began to dance—some flips and some hips.
She was Dancing with (Half of) Herself, Oh Oh Oh!