“The porcelain throne of the working man,” that’s what Paul, a co-worker, referred to the toilet. Oddly enough, that’s where most of my epiphanies and creative ideas have come to me. Maybe it’s because of the cool white surroundings, maybe a unique architectural/mathematical design that makes it the quietest place in the house; or maybe the reason why most of my ideas seem to ride the dizzying rapids into the ocean of the world’s mediocre ideas. Whatever the case, this is where I was when the moment that I had known yet avoided for years decided to fight the currents til they transformed into an Hoover Dam and polluted flood waters.
I am nearly 29 years old…nearly 30 years old…I have nearly completed 3 decades of existence and what do I have to show for myself? Fading memories of carefree days of youth and the funeral of my dreams. So, what now? If living in squalor-like conditions in a gang infested neighborhood with thousands in debt and student loans isn’t a demonstration of my success, I don’t know what is.
A Loser, a victim of circumstance, a wingless bird of prey, these are what the children of great success stories become. Just like how every cleric’s child turns out to be the ones who were the most into drugs, sex and, most noticeable, violence.
Professor X explaining Marshall McLuhan and the benefits of good marketing strategy by describing the Mongol war strategy: Sending messenger to spread fear to the point that many villages would surrender peacefully when they arrived. But how does that prove that the media was the final message? I think this analogy was based on misunderstandings.
But what the fuck does that matter? That is the problem with me. I spend all of my energies into useless unproductive thought. Good for a professor, or even a serious scholar/grad student. But am I any of these? Only in thought… only in thought is it where there is still a chance –like Nietzsche and Bach and countless other European figures of greatness – I will get an independently wealthy (as opposite to the self-made, who normally won’t find this a necessity or even an as lavish entertainment or self-amusement of their new found riches) to sponsor me and my toilet-ly great ideas.