When I am drinking and listening to music as I work on my computer late (for me) at night, I start sending songs to my friends. I hope they don't think they have to listen to them. Sometimes I send a lot of songs. In my frenzied state, I think everything is important. I think what I am sending is profound. Then, in the morning, I look and wonder in horror and shame.
But in the morning, I cut and paste screenshots of news stories that seem hideous or funny to me. I am careful about what I send to whom. Sometimes, I hit the wrong button and off something goes to the wrong person. Q, C.C., and I share a twisted sense of reality, so they get most of my weird ass shit. We are like grown adolescents who have no parental oversight. It is all fun until we get busted.
A story like this can spark my imagination (link), but this morning I refrained from sending anything from or about it. There are perilous divisions here, and though none of us stands inexorably on one side or the other of things. . . well, Q lives in California.
But usually we like to fall into the chiasma of the divisions, a joyous tumble through the gaps in people's assumptions about right and wrong, good and evil, should and shouldn't.
Many of my friends are not as silly and don't enjoy the ride, so I only send them my more reserved arguments. Those are by far the most boring and least honest. I have cleared rooms full of intelligent liberals with my absurdist comments. Often. I didn't mean to. I mean, I thought we were all on the same side. I thought we were all friends. But some people just can't take a joke if it challenges their ideology.
CC, Q, and I are shapeshifters, full of ideologies--plural--that hardly make sense, a hearty blend of Beckett's optimism and Thompson's cruel wit, and maybe de Sade's sense of unusual fun.
I don't think that is an accurate statement, but it was fun to write.
I have another friend, a liberal conservative who's recent views seem to be gleaned from QAnon, who is equally witty but whose quips are mostly above board, things that can be expressed in the larger gathering. He is fun, but I still have to censor myself around him.
I think I learned when I was a kid to open with something shocking. It shifts the ground, shakes things up right off the bat, steals the rhythm and makes people giddy.
I think Trump does this, but not in a witty way. But he is an absurdist for sure.
There. That just came off the top of my head. Now I am going to have another cup of coffee and stroll the grounds, as they say, before I begin another day in the Pandemic Era. I am learning that I can spend my days any way I like as long as I do not go around other people. I am lucky in that.