Inspired lure. Here come da’ rainbow steelhead (say that out loud in your best Flip Wilson voice). Or, see can Gepeddo land that Pinnochio? Flashing on yummy Cioppino, for some reason.
“The world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those who feel.” Horace Walpole
Even if sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, per Wilde — whose props are definitely earned — it is still on the comedy side of things. On the tragedy side, sarc discrimination — lets make that bigotry — may manifest as a fear of depths. Or heights. Or both. (sar•chasm). Flatlanders & the 2D thing. But….
Some do both, Horace. More than two poles, in three dimensions, Wally. Plus, you prolly didn’t know, so long ago & all, poles aren’t fixed, stuck in fig leaf\ment compartments. They not only shimmy-shake-slide, they trade places. It ain’t just missionary, it’s *missionary.*
Anger can be both cubed & sphered, too. For certain, it ain’t there, doesn’t exist — anger — just so simplifiers can mark it the redheaded stepchild. Which is what horns of dichotomy is. Simplification. Compartmentalization. Reduction of…anxiety? Too Much Stuff is a fun tune.
At any rate, reduction of variables does sell more units…less is more stuff? Ha.
But didn’t self-help just get thrashed the other day, Thich?
Therapy? Re-matting & re-framing pictures that disturb. To reduce the sauce. More palatable, sized•flavored•colored•textured, to the bite. Nair & narrative. Different from what artists do (got a relate on that, a bit later).
Even BuddhaT (later, too), substituting zafu for couch, is a commingling of commercialized ventures seeking to capitalize. Yeah, they got some of my money.
All the good work I’ve seen, done, been involved with has been coexistent with tension. Singing wires. Fire; hot, not merely warm. Craft & craftswo\manship. Creativity. Intensity. Beautiful processes & “outcomes.”
Passion. That gets a lot of golden child treatment. Not sure, but I think I’ve seen you spanking that child. The whole ‘find your passion’ thing…is a dubious bumper sticker. But Henley’s line about finding some of those inner children & kicking their little asses is, very often, a good one.
Point is pacific & pacified, all anger diverted & drained, will prolly toss the mostly bathwater baby right along with the not baby bathwater. The careful whatcha’ wish for thing. I say that despite also knowing some devils so well I’d not hesitate to try the other, or another, if I could. But that’s a different subject that I’m not as angry about.☻
Surgical strikes & lobotomies a la RP McMurphy (& don’t leave out that differently angry Ratched bitch). “Collateral” damages. Some devils are still the only game in town. If you could kick ’em out, the town would go, too. That Vietnam thing: we had to destroy the village to save it. Sir! Yes, sir!
Anger is a tool that is part of most kits — all kits when you account for all the aliases. How the tools use a body is variable. Spheres where angels fear to tread, well, that may be math anxiety. Just angles, angels. Get on your protractors & ride.
Like autism slides a spherical spectrum, anger do too….How bout feanger? Fea•nge•r. Including of such things as anger & its aliases?
Just had a chat with our detailer (cars) — a true scholar-gentleman, cuz he’s an artist. Asked him about anger being the aliased diamond carbide tip of the bit. He wasn’t sure. New idea. But he got it. I’ll ask him again, next detail, after its worked on him some.
Back to the eastern way. Or one of them. Or the not proximal-therefore mysterious-or compelling-or more true the farther away it is…stuff. Met a young woman. Attractive. “New”age (which is to say immortal, in that walking dead way). Cumbayah. Grew up in privileged circumstances in Michigan U.P. Stinted as an au pair in Paris. Then U of Chicago. No dummy, but rose irises, heavily subsidized. Later I met her beau; their paths crossed in Ptown. He’s an Indian (that she liked to refer to as being black…oh, what rose can color). He grew up in privilege, too, mostly in Europe. An older, by at least 10 years, newager, Cumbayahoo, too. *But* he’d also gone on “pilgrimages.” Serious, dangerous, ones. I got into easternschism subjects with him cuz it was an interest of mine & experiences of his. Some of the Buddhist stuff. Some of the martial way stuff (aikido, mostly). His been\done\seen it characterization (of non-compartmentalization), that rings true un-cracked bell for anyone whose been around & paid attention: the gurus far away saw the guree’s coming — with telescope•microscope clarity. It’s just another commercial endeavor. And the market segment tapped is mostly privileged — certainly so when juxtaposed against much of the far away background in which they like to think they’re doing their figuring — mostly pale skinned creatures from the states, Europe, Aussie land, etc. It’s a cliché, really.
Bonus point q: just who, in all these interlocking & teeth-shearing cults of personality (which covers way more than just the subjects at hand) *has* a personality? I believe that may be a trick question.
Back to frames that ain’t good ship lollipop setups:
“Art is limitation; the essence of every picture is the frame.” ~ G.K. Chesterton
“The frame is the reward for the artist.” ~ Edgar Degas
Skepticism is a virtue; naivete, the opposite, is an indulgence (not un-often a compulsion, too — which is like addiction, only more ingrained). But a little of the latter sprinkled, like nutmeg, atop a lot of the former can be pretty yummy.
