Category: Musings

FUCK

It is perplexing that despite the lengthy and pervasive legacy of expletives, certain populations or environments prohibit their utterances.  At this point, it is almost inconceivable that an individual could actually take offense to such a generic, ubiquitous word as “fuck”.  It is obvious that those who take offense are foolish, as they are partaking in a delusional exercise of superficial superiority.  Any utterance of the word is an excuse to be offended by their brutish company, as the refined literati have no use for such vile speech.  This is one of the many, many telltale signifiers of ignorance, and is apt to incite much frustration.

Often overlooked, however, is the symbiotic necessity both parties have for one another.  Without the snub-nosed, rigid-spined people to take offense, expletives are stripped of their potency.  And without the swearers, there is one less thing to savor being offended by.

 

Mind Causing Fire
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caring about stuff

Of all the infinite levels at which humanity can be interpreted, from quantum to cosmic, the only one at which anything matters is eye level.

Glen Canyon, UT

“You can’t beat the weather in California”

Yes you can.  Unless, of course, you aspire to eliminate all discomfort, variety, and dynamic from your life.  Seasons are a time reference.  Without them, before you know it you are 42 with color-leeched tattoos and a blond ponytail yelling “yeah! perpetual summer!”.  I was weaned on the colored seasons and cold coasts of the East.  I inhabit four places every year.  I know my home through the filters green and white and blue and amber.  Each filter brings different features of my environment into focus.  The perfumes of a budding forest and savoring reacquaintance with the sun.  The sound of summer canopy drunk with rain.  A field before a wood, all dressed in white, sinless, pure, and blank.

 

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Human Day

As a child, when people would say it was “so humid outside”, I misheard them as saying it was “so human outside”.  A “human” day meant that it was going to be oppressive, sweaty, and sticky.  Being the shy, nervous child that i was, this expression made sense to me.

 

You know who you are

Aphorism Day!

Who says you have to own a frock coat, a bowler hat, and have intercourse through a hole in a sheet to write an aphorism?

Let’s say the following are gestating.


Flirting: the cause of, and solution to, adultery.

Virtuosity simply means freedom from the fetters of mimicry.

If you can’t think of something new, resuscitate something old.  The universe recycles; context conceals.

Comedy is the poor man’s philosophy.

There are no new ideas, only new ways of putting them.

If a walk doesn’t make you feel better, you didn’t walk far enough.

(Ok, that one’s not really an aphorism; it’s just a spoonful of cold, distilled Truth)

Caricature is the birth of art, honesty is its life purpose.

Paul Auster said “stories can only be told backwards.”  Improv tells stories forwards.

What you learn from your parents is never what they mean to teach you.

And a couple from the pros:

You know what charm is: a way of getting the answer yes without having asked any clear question.

– Camus, The Fall

In the end one loves one’s desire and not what is desired.

-Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

 

Harold Night
Hunter/Poacher (the improv duo of which I comprise slightly less than 50%) performing our debut Harold at ImprovBoston Theatre, an improv theatre in Boston. Improv photo due to the aphoristic comedy/improv references above.