An/On Opening(s)…(or Coke(Áine) and The Beginity of Unity)
I stopped snorting cocaine a few years ago. I should qualify that statement. Also, amphetamines. Terrible things. Maybe some of this is about me.
I am a pathological liar…just kidding…Let’s start with Beginnings:
Stately (Joyce, Ulysses), now… a way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun (Joyce, FW), past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, through the fence, between the curling flower spaces (Faulkner, TSatF), brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs (Joyce, FW). It is here that the sun shines, having no alternative, on the Nothing new (Beckett, Murphy)…Whether it be a bright cold day in April (Orwell, 1984) or a Winter in Despair (Dickens, AToTC), the clocks are striking the Sixth Prime (Orwell tweaked) as a Screaming comes across the sky (Pynchon, GR) soaring over all the happy, albeit dysfunctional families (Tolstoy) in their little boxes on the hillsides (Malvina Reynolds), whom, in this the Age of (Mis)information, neither the Best of Times nor the Worst of Times (Dickens), are all similarly or dissimilarly Fuck’d up (Tolstoy/Nabokov)…it doesn’t matter, really.
Don’t call me Ismael (Emerson). I’m not invisible (Ellison), nor am I underground (Dostoyevsky). I’m most certainly not a bug (Kafka), and by the end of this I hope we are no longer strangers.
I’m ONE man…
all I need is one mic. (Nas)
So, please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth (I wish) and taste (I hope)
I’ve been around for a long, long year (well, 28 and change)
Stole many a man’s soul and fate (and drugs) (Rolling Stones)
All good stories commence with an introduction and a purpose: I want to start with the introduction and purpose of the universe. I want to explore why life (then conscious life, our lives, Earth, possibly other life “out there”) is essential. That’s all…