This morning, for whatever reasons, I watched a bit of the 9/11 specials that were on just about every channel before I went to work. The local Fox news lady was way too bubbly as she was interviewing the brother of a fireman who died in the WTC, and I was so mad at her, at the world really, and so sad for this crying brother. I turned it off pretty quickly because it was making me far too emotional too early in the morning, really, too emotional for any hour of the day. I watched Flight 93—again, for whatever stupid reasons—last week and was a total mess. I cried so much. God, when was the last time I cried during a movie?
Though I certainly had problems with the movie and certainly wondered if the whole thing might not be the retelling of a fiction. On PBS last week, there was an American Biography special that aired about Lee Harvey Oswald. Even this standard PBS history documentary was presenting the idea that there was obviously more to the Kennedy shooting than Oswald. The Warren Commission presented a nice clean narrative soon after the shooting to give clean answers and ensure a stable government. The 9/11 Commission presented just as clean a narrative for similar purposes I am certain. And so, yes, God knows what the hell happened on 9/11. I become less certain with each day.
Regardless the film still had me balling, recalling crying on 9/11, being told just after waking up that the Pentagon had been attacked. During that film last week, I recalled all of this, that morning and how horrible I felt before I had got confirmation that my mom was totally okay.
And so this morning, I turned that off quickly, put on some good music, and felt so much better. I don’t get it, a lot of things, but I also am convinced that I do get a lot of things, particularly the need not to get certain things, to walk away and let other people scratch wounds over and over while I listen to things that make me feel good. (Thanks WW).
But then I went to work and couldn’t turn it off, the stuff in this world that I find distasteful, instead had to listen to it, read it, albeit stuff of a different sort. The first interview I read this morning was the CEO of a patent holding company. He bought up old patents to a now standard technology in microprocessors and is suing just about everybody to make them pay his company royalties, even though no one in his company invented the technology. He is what is known as a patent troll. He is a disgusting human being and that I had to read this guy talk about this and have to edit this to make him sound intelligent made me so dispirited, and I resolved that I had to find a new job. The second interview that I read today was perhaps even worse – the CEO of a copper mining company talking about the troubles he was having with the indigenous people in Ecuador who were trying to resist his attempts to mine in their villages. I didn’t know what I was doing, how I ended up there, was pretty uncertain most of the day about what it is exactly I am doing and how it is I got to this place, and where (the big, never answered question) it is that I would like to be and what it is I would like to be doing.
I came home and got a call from the guy on 96th Street, went up to his house, and felt so much better. I pissed down his throat while twisting his nipples, taking intense pleasure from this perversity I was engaging in, from his pan, and this behavior that threw everything else about my day into stark relief – that there was stuff pure in this world. Then I got a blowjob from him in which I was really aggressive, as he likes and as, I am discovering, I do also. It was a really awesome release, just what I needed, and I understand violence and its appeal a lot of the time.
I bought new shoes to go running in, which I plan to start hopefully doing nightly, and I am going to kick Brooklyn’s ass and its streets with these things, with my feet, am going to run and run and run until I am near tired. I am going to rest and do it again. This is a metaphor FYI, and things are going to start getting awesome.