THE ABSOLOUTE DEFINITION OF COMPLETE COMPLEXITY (MY DAD ALWAYS TOLD ME TO AIM HIGH) – or – THE TRUE UNDERLYING NATURE OF REALITY (AS FOUND IN THE CRAYOLA ENGRAVED FACE OF LEROI JONES)

THE ABSOLOUTE DEFINITION OF COMPLETE COMPLEXITY (MY DAD ALWAYS TOLD ME TO AIM HIGH)
or
THE TRUE UNDERLYING NATURE OF REALITY (AS FOUND IN THE CRAYOLA ENGRAVED FACE OF LEROI JONES)


Complication is the name of the game this month. And I didn’t want to beat around aimlessly in the bush like some horny tomcat being driven half wild by the smell of fresh pussy. There was no point in playing if you didn’t think you could beat the best, as my old man would often say to me, before leaving for another nightshift at the local smog factory.
For my Dad, to wit:
What is Infinity?
It is, by its very nature, mathematically indefinable; rendering science, caged within the claustrophobic jagged cells of its finite limitations, utterly impotent.
Religion claws at it like some sort of curious child, enchanted by the jasmine scent and the warming summer nights glow, but ultimately lacking in the minerals required to form any sort of lasting bond with the subject at hand.
Artists and poets have inferred, intimated, abstracted, and howled ungodly verses, at the top of their blood filled lungs, high into the darkened sky; but have never quite managed to capture the true spirit of the thing in all its superlative grandeur.
Language is feeble, after all.
The only thing that matters, in the end, is that if infinity is real, then we are all infinite together.
The only other thing that matters is that we accept the indelible paradoxical truths of the Cosmic Microwave Background with the humanity and good grace of a well mannered Haight-Ashbury pro; whateva’ man.
According to a hazy, whispered, un-qualified myth I once saw messily scrawled on the inside facing of a toilet cubicle door in a New Orleans jazz club, directly below a crayon etching of LeRoi Jones: “The term cool in its original context meant a specific reaction to the world, a specific relationship to one’s environment. It defined an attitude which actually existed. To be cool was, in its most accessible meaning, to be calm, even unimpressed, by what horror the world might daily propose”.
And smeared in sizable letters on the white tiled ceiling above, in what was later understood to be the blood of a well-respected Brazilian shaman, shone a beacon of alchemical wisdom: “Beware what you think, for they become your words. Beware what you say, for they become your actions. Beware your actions, as they become your habits. Beware your habits, as they seal your fate”.
Be cool. And enjoy the ride.

Filed under: "It's Complicated" by fent11111
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