Thursday, July 15, 2010

revelations.

Last night, just before bed, I looked at myself in the mirror and had a sudden revelation: I am me.

As absurd as this may sound, it is a fact I had never quite realized up until that point. In a very literal way, I had not realized that I live in my body, and what people perceive to be me is my body.

I suppose the logical conclusion of this reasoning leads to some very challenging yet interesting questions: What is the nature of identity? What is an individual? Is consciousness a biological phenomenon? Why am I blogging about my inconsequential existence?

The most appropriate way that I can summarize my state of mind at that exact moment would be to say that I forgot who I was and remembered who I am. Sensical? Not quite. Accurate? Yes. Though to be fair, communication is dependent on mutual experiences through which the decoder may understand the message, and I am relying on an experience, namely, this revelation, which it is not reasonable to assume that my readers have had. Perhaps I will blog in the future about the nature of communication.

In any case, onward!

What, you may be curious to know, induced this revelation?

That night I had been out carousing with my fellow TASPers following pubspeaks, but I do not believe that this was the primary impulse behind my miraculous mirrored manifestation.

Instead, I would cite an accumulation of extreme cynicism, whereby I have begun to question the integrity of the very people with whom I discuss my cynicism. My hatred for the inanity of everyday life has become so intense, so unbearable, that my mind attempted to block it out, and up until last night, I had, unbeknownst to me, been wearing a mask. I would hardly say that I have abandoned this mask completely, but I would like to think that I have at least gone Phantom, hiding only the part of myself that would result in my rejection from society.

For the gigantic portion of the Internet that does not know me personally, I suppose it would be helpful to explain the nature of my cynical state of mind. Whether or not it would be a bastardization of my own cynicism to post the details of this very trait is irrelevant, because if I do not cede this point, no one will ever want to read anything I write because it will be practically indecipherable.

In that case, I propose to briefly expound upon my specific form of cynicism in a post to follow shortly.

-marcus.

Note: I am aware that "sensical" is not a word in the English language. However, I am not pretentious enough to defend the purity of my native tongue. That said, let it henceforth be known to all readers that the vast majority of apparently inappropriate diction is intentional. If, however, you do find a mistake in any of my posts, feel free to correct me.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

hence the period.

To my potential bloggers (bloggites?),

Some of you undetermined masses may be wondering: "Why the period(s)?"

Some of you, on the other hand, may not be wondering about this question.

If you fall into the latter of these categories, feel free to skip along in your blogging quest in hopes of finding some other, more contrived or humorous or plastic blog. Or, conversely, one that will not induce a deep hatred for the despicable nature of the human species (or rather, the middle class American consumer culture). If nothing else, I can promise you that this blog will make you hate one of two things: its subject or its progenitor.

But I digress.

Or am I going off on a tangent?

Semantics.

To address the topic of this post: the period.

No, it is not the emulation of a popular indie band who shall remain unnamed.

And no, it is not some pretentious attempt to deny Internet conventions.

The period, in the case of this blog's title, is not, in fact, a punctuation mark at all. It is, in the same way as the rest of the title, a representation of the blog's intended content (though I make no promises to remain within the bounds of this content). However, the period is unique in that it does not directly describe what subject will be addressed, but rather the antithetical view of the subject held by the writer.

This is a blog about the plastic generation.

The writer denies the authenticity of the plastic generation.

The period is the denial of plasticity.

Therefore, this blog is about the period. The ultimate. The conclusive.

This blog makes no promises and takes no prisoners.

This blog fits no molds.

This blog is a subjective foray into a land of objective assertions.

This blog is a period.

Period.

-marcus.

P.S. This blog is cynical.