It's rough. The constant stream of stimulus in the elevator, echoing my elective New York 1 morning-time constant stream of stimulus, just told me they've put up the first beam of The Freedom Tower today. Four guys-on-the-street on New York One felt like me that it's time, we all want something there.
I can't wait for a new enormous tower. The only thing is the name right? The miracle of living in the USA, is that unquestionably the USA will replace the twin towers and with an awe-ing new structure. Capitalism is about the consistent miracle. What we can do, build, is without limit; as long as we want it, there'll be MBAs to make it happen. The money is there. The labor is there. New York's unananimous desire will a tower make. This like the belief of the ancient Egyptians made pyramids.
It's just that we should call it The Capitalism tower. Or The Money Tower. I'm not saying I don't want it. I'm bummed that it won't be done til 2011. I just think we should get behind what we're getting behind in a precise way. Power Tower has a ring.
But it's all over for hating hypocrisy. I don't think there's a choice anymore. It's actually impossible not to ride the wave, be as one with the surrounding dominant culture, for me anyway. I talk about celebrities all day long. That's all we freaking talk about at work. All day long wondering if in their circumstances we'd behave like them (YES already -- presumably given anyone's circumstances, fact for fact, you'd be them!) Last month I couldn't stand it, but I submit. It's useless. I still won't make a myspace page. But everyone, I can't tell you why not. (PRIVACY. Isn't there something to privacy? <---- I blog this. Ha.) I mean, I want to have that principle, that I don't need to advertise myself, validate myself, be rich, live richly (is this Citibank?) but I do want all those things. I do like fancy hotels and I freaking love champagne. But you can't pick and choose can you? Can I like Top Model and be disgusted by Flavor of Love? I can, I do feel that way -- but the distinctions I'd place on each are irrelevant and not to be confused with a real guiding principle.
Yet there's things I won't do. But, I don't know... I'm losing my thought... it's like... what's the point? yeah, that's it.... no it's, Goddammit, if she didn't not wear underwear we'd have nothing to talk about. the girl's taking a fall that's all. Don't you feel dignified, wearing underwear and catching the bus? Dignity. Indignity. The Freedom Tower. You write it up. It all goes together.
3 comments:
This blog entry scares the hell out of me and I really feel like you are getting all mixed up because you are surrounded with insane New Yorkers and made-up celebrities. That means that I would feel that way if I were you. I don't think it's good to talk about famous people for their emptiness, though I used to think it was great, but it made me feel like my thoughts were evaporating, and I think that it was a bad segment, I think it's OK to talk about people's actions and words, but not OK to look at more than one picture at a time, and not OK to fantasize about things that are more than 3 action steps removed from the present situation, unless it is official daydream time, which is marked by no talking. I don't actually think that. As far as I'm concerned, going to work in a skyscraper all day is the same thing as running down the street naked with your eyes closed screaming like a maniac. And I have worked in several power towers, most of them in earthquake-prone regions...
Power tower is great, but the whole getting swept up thing, I understand it, oh yeah, but I don't understand the inevitability thing and I think was much more honest when you just said you liked expensive alcohols, which is something I can understand. All I want to do is fight big glossy faces, punch them. What kind of fight is right from now, I don't know. I'm not criticizing you, well certainly not any more than I normally do, and I certainly have no idea what to do myself. I know one thing; never ever leave your house. That kind of treats the vertigo sensation, but not sure if it stops the other rushes. I guess, just, I have to be extremely happy with tiny tiny steps. But if it's inevitable, I just, I couldn't stand it. I was at the Market Fair today, I made this salesgirl run around to look for books, you know, it's green, and I think stripey and the title starts with the word 25 or maybe 50. She ran me down the sex aisle though. Chester says it was just a shortest distance between two points thing, but I take it when I can get it. It's all gimmicks and games anyway, so a little extra fantasy energy can't hurt, unless you're already down, which you, me, I was because of the mall atmosphere. It made me feel just completely drained looking for books, and like, all things bad, but maybe I just need stonger glasses, and some kind of corn syrup drink got me back on task. Shopping. That's almost the same thing as you were talking about, if it was my feelings judged by, the situation I have no idea. When one leaves comments here, one can't see the original post, so it makes one, it makes me forget what you said. And naturally what I said. I like that feeling though. It's relaxing.
1. I totally feel dignified wearing underwear and catching the bus.
2. You're right to love Top Model and hate Flavor of Love. You're right to do that.
Thank you for commenting. Appreciate being agreed with kungfuramone. We should tell eachother we're "right" every day -- oh wait --- we already do that. Eff, (Eiffel Gwazdor stepped down I see) I think your comments are beautiful. I really like "I know one thing: never ever leave your house." If I could FIND DECENT ..... well, then I'd agree with you. This will soon be another post about my relationship to smoking and how it's motivational to me and how this means I'm different from everybody else on the planet.
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