Ramblings On: Snippets, Fragments, Rants, and Howls

The only methodology my spiritual constitution agrees with is the creation of such incomplete nigh-nothings with barely a thing to say but that try to say it so poignantly. God damn my nature, god damn my society, ADHD fed into by the techno-soundbite generation with only enough focus to be distracted for hours on end and too much to worry about in this cruel universe to bother worrying at all anymore. Yes, I know there is famine and genocide, I know AIDS is spreading like a wildfire and there was a time when I cared and felt compassion but there is really nothing I can do, really nothing that any of us can do unless we have the medical-biological or economic or socio-political understanding needed to provide a cure, a solution, a resolution to any of these things but I'm no god and neither are you, neither is anybody. So why bother fretting what can't be helped? Protesters and activists endeavor to "raise awareness" and it makes them feel better I suppose but we're fucking aware already, and being aware changes nothing, ever; knowing that there are child soldiers doesn't make them cease to be, feeling sorry for people an ocean and two worlds away doesn't help them any. Sure, you can raise money to send to them but that's the hollowest gesture you can make, to throw money at them, saying "We have more of these meaningless symbols of status than we need, so here's five bucks for you to use the next time marauders torch your village and rape your daughters." Right. Real helpful. Do I have an alternative solution? No, of course I don't, I'm not Moses or Gandhi or some shit. I'm just complaining about all these people complaining about things they won't change—and yes that makes me one of those people. "Down with this sort of thing!" And that's why the sensible majority of us resign ourselves to foodyism, video games, underground music hipsterocracies and film snobbery because distraction is the only viable option to keep absolute insanity at bay. We know the world is a mad and maddening place and we have to shield ourselves from that or we lose ourselves and our minds as our thoughts come to reflect the thoughtlessness of reality and our sense conforms to the nonsense that is the turning square-edged wheel of the universe. You can't make me be a better person because you don't even know what a better person is, righteousness is a bitter fiction dreamt up by idealists who feared to acknowledge the darkness spun into the helices of their DNA like wool in an afghan.
There is a collective subconscious emerging from the post-pre-intellectual wonder that is the internet community which accepts and embraces this darkness and takes it full circle to an unapologetic universal hatred that does not exclude itself, a hatred in the name of which much good can be accomplished because it is a hatred so deep that it hates hatred itself, nods to this irony and then laughs at it while carrying it out. They call it Anonymous, and I can't think of a more appropriately inappropriate name for such a thing for when I read or hear about it I call it Anonymous but know that really it is Myself, you know it is Yourself, thoughts you nursed in private corners of your mind condemned as hellish and evil but to which you cannot deny some credibility. That same throbbing vein runs through the heart of the world and as they speak it you hear it as an echo of a latent voice in the back of yourself which you try to push aside or push down in vain, because here it is rising up from somewhere else, circling around from where you turned your back on it to come and confront your very face. That is Anonymous, and we know its true name but won't acknowledge that it is Ours.