Interestingly Outdated Idioms.

The connection between the heart icon and the soul gives off strange connotations these days. Ancient peoples believed that the heart was the seat of the human mind. Today it's pretty much been whittled down to symbolising emotions of a romantic nature. We know that romantic feelings (which we hold so dear) do not reside in any bodily organ. Below the neck or above the waist, anyway.

This outdated symbolism lives on as it's rather quaint and charming. My Romantic Heart. If people once thought these things to be true, what other human conditions must they have believed to be housed in our various body parts? - My Hedonistic Liver. - My Platonic Pancreas. - My Curious Appendix. - My Impatient, But Curiously Resilient, Digestive System. - My Ululating Ulceration.

Do any of these make less sense than the idea that romantic notions reside in the organ that pumps oxygen to our cells? It's romantic, yes, but we could surely come up with something more modern and apt? Metaphors practically grow on trees. Come on poets, don't just rest on your predecessor's laurels. Get out there and romanticize post-modernity! Maybe it just doesn't hold up to scrutiny. Like romance, it has nothing to do with reason.

The Power of Imagination.

The economy does not actually exist. I know what you might be thinking now. "Hey, how deep of a hit did you just take from your opium bong? You godless hippie." The short answer is: not that deep. The long answer is: An economy is just an agreed upon system of values and trade rules. It is no more set in stone than any other idea, and can be re-arranged or fundamentally revised any time we feel like it.

I know it seems as if economic systems, such as our pseudo-capitalist one, are quite real. As real as the buildings that house all of the institutions that prop up this concept. But it really isn't. It's "simply" a very elaborate system we have concocted in order to keep people producing goods and services that in the end benefit most of us. Motivated by greed. Punished by hunger. I will leave any further moral values and my own Utopian hopes out of it.

If this current model of incentives and punishment isn't getting the job done let's change it. Fine tune it to work better. Improve the social safety net for workers. Tax the rich bankers a little higher. Make sure stock trading is better regulated. Even out the peaks and valleys. We also have the short term option: Keep on buying stuff, you dumb shits.

A recession happens when people think a recession will happen. They stop buying and start saving. Industrialists stop producing the things that aren't being bought anymore. The same people who stopped buying get fired and continue not buying (now for a different reason, lack of funds) and the downward spiral worsens. Do you want to keep your job? You want your friends to keep their jobs? Stop stuffing your mattress full of imaginary wealth printed on paper and purchase things that might be useful. Either sneakers with lights in the heals or a shotgun for fending off the mutants when this economic crisis hits apocalyptic proportions.

You think I am over-simplifying a very complex issue? Yes, I might be. Bare in mind though that economist's seemingly elaborate hypotheses are not any more accurate. If these Oracles of Wall Street and Captains of Industry had any clue what pattern the market follows (if any) they'd be able to fix it. Instead they're just throwing anything they can think of at the problem and seeing what sticks. So far, nothing is.

A system no-one understands isn't a system, it's chaos. So kick back, grab a beer you've just brewed in your own toilet and enjoy watching as these granite monoliths of capitalism crumble. Like that pension you had saved away. It's much more fun watching something come crashing down. At least now you are not alone, standing in the rubble.

Also:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ci80-3NrEv8]

There cums the neighbourhood.

The other night me and the girlfriend were reliving shared but separate childhood memories by re-watching The Neverending Story. It was a spur of the moment type thing, so we got started rather late. As we were approaching the half-way mark we found ourselves getting the mid-night giggles. That stage of tiredness when everything seems rather funny. We were chatting in hushed and clipped tones and having a laugh at how poorly some of the elements in the movie had aged. During this most pleasant of times we get interrupted by a loud banging on the wall followed by an equally loud yet muffled voice. - "I'm actually trying to sleep!" Or something to that effect came pouring through the wall we share with this apparently grumpy denizen. Most rude. That I had been forced to overhear said person have loud and obnoxious mid-day sex just a few days prior is of no concern. Apparently. Clamorous Afternoon Boinking - Perfectly acceptable. Average Nightly Conversation - Horrendous. We weren't having a rip-roaring booming time, with rowdy cheers and boisterous applauds. The volume was in every respect, reasonable. A bit too reasonable even. Had it sounded like twenty-odd burly men performing heavy construction in the middle of an ongoing party as a gaggle of geese were set ablaze for the party crowd's amusement I should think my keen and sharp neighbour would have hesitated before bothering me with information on his sleeping habits. The silly git. The addition of the word "actually" in his improvised and analog cross-domicile radio theatre opens up a whole other level of  possible interpretation. Did he actually expect us to know that his and our headboards were adjacent? What then must be his point with such rambunctious three o'clock sex? I dare not speculate any further into such perverted goings-on that must be...going on. I quite often over-complicate things. He's probably just a self-centered asshole. Which is an interesting idea, in and off itself.

A much smarter ape.

Humans kick ass. That is the one universal truth that we can all learn from our short little moment on this earth. The great lesson is not the beauty of nature, the delusions of God's greatness or any other man-made construct, other than this. We, as a species, need not fear any other animal. Given enough time we will figure out its weakness, kill and eat it. Or turn its carcass into some amusing product to help make our lives more interesting. Humans beings are dumb, selfish, evil, gluttonous, self-involved, murderous, vile and utterly irrational most of the time. I take no issue with this view  of the human race. What needs to be considered however is that all of these negative attributes we possess are concepts we have created. Any animal, even the little fuzzy ones we find cute, are much worse than the most horrid person. By our standards. Show me a walrus that can play the violin or a chipmunk that has deeply theorized on its own existence and I might change my tune. Until then I'll enjoy being a dirty stinking ape, of the more clever variety. We are the crowning achievement of creation. As of yet.

Say what?

I want to find interesting and unusual ways of phrasing myself. I strive towards it constantly and with all the determination I can muster. There is a form of yearning inside of me. A want, for something that differs from the regular modes of expression. To discover an intriguing little mountain path that leads me up into the winding caverns of the imagination. Byways that diverge and distract you for a while but that ultimately take you back down towards the main road. Of truth. Hopefully with a new appreciation for its many nuances. My intention is to be someone's weirdest conversation. The anecdote they retell at parties as an example of convoluted associations, strange wording and mind blowing entertainment value. And at the same time I wish to remain both truthful and honest. Unfortunately there appears to be no consistency of quality in any of my musings. Sometimes I have a way with words, at other times I simply have my way with them. Off-putting to some. I'm perfectly fine with being alone for longer periods of time. It gives me the chance to reflect on things. A much needed inventory and reorganisation of the warehouse that is my mind. Aloneness also carries with it a sense of security and calm. One does not have to consider anything more than the thoughts that are racing through your head. Bouncing off of one another. Sparking new but partially mangled ideas. I suspect what inspires me to make such efforts at communicating is a quest for intimacy. A true feeling of belonging is what ties these periods of solitude together into something meaningful. The world is a wonderful place containing endless possibilities, with terrible consequences. Existence as a dimly lit carnival of extremes. Intimacy is what smooths over the jagged edges you might encounter in the dark. Verbiage is my entrance pass. Listen to it.