An Answer

Haven't done that in quite some time. I just read Andy's post and got inspired. I should really stop, though. I mean, really. But at least this one got me thinking (And when I start thinking, it takes me awhile, so you might want to skip to the last paragraph which holds the more pertinent information, if that could be applied to anything I ever spit onto this thing. I've considered deleting the entire thing, but you're all responsible adults and can decide what's sheer nonsense (most of it) and how you use your time.)

"Inadequate." It sums up quite a bit. Reaching for the stars, only to be a few feet short and fall eons back to earth every time. Any accomplishments we may achieve, any virtues we may have, any positives we may believe are all tossed aside, taken for granted. It's only the negatives that matter, for those are the problems that must be addressed. Focusing on positives doesn't lead to self improvement. Only negatives.

And yet, no matter how hard you try to improve, no matter the goal, no matter the vision, it's not enough. Perhaps it's because you're focusing on the negatives and wouldn't notice if you did obtain what you sought. Perhaps it's because the goal changes as soon as you've accomplished the former goal, making triump impossible. Or perhaps all your efforts prove inadequate.

I suppose I write this drivel because I think some of these things out to be expressed. I don't know why, they've all been shown a countless number of times, all better, all more effective, but I still do. Perhaps it's an attempt to get them out of my system. Or it could be that ultimate goal of creating something "beautiful." Something that surpasses everything else. Something that you've created, look at, and say "That'll do."

It is good. Perfect? No. But good. It accomplishes what you set out to do in an adequate way. Adequate seems to imply the bare minimum. But it actually means satisfactory. And that is one of the highest bars you can set. Thus you have artists. Some "art" because they are "talented" and are able to. Some "art" because they enjoy it. Some "art" to make money, become famous, become renowned. And some "art" because they're searching for something. Trying to achieve something. And all their flops in between almost pain them with their inadequacy.

The dream alone is not enough. A dream of utter beauty. The very idea alone cannot suffice. Why? Perhaps because we don't really know what it is. It's an idea. A formless, vague idea. We can't summon up emotions and feelings at will. We can't all magically be happy or feel awestruck by beauty all time. Maybe we don't want to. It sounds easy enough, just put a positive spin on everything. But we have to have reasons. A reason for happiness. A reason for sadness. A reason for bliss, for ecstasy. Something uncontrollable inside us must be satiated, turned on, lit up, energized, sparked. It must be inspired.

So why do we bother trying to form beauty in reality? Why not search and philosophize and dream until we know what true beauty, true happiness, true rapture is? Then, after we know, we can go about trying to create it in "reality." Heck, why even bother with reality? Why not be satisfied with the dream and just conjure up the image whenever we want to be stricked with the desired emotions?

Well, some people may be able to accomplish this. I seem to fail. I can't fathom perfection, probably because apathy and nihilism block my view. So I suppose I write, trying to hope that that unconquered subconscious of mine will provide it for me. Thus I write and at the time it doesn't feel so bad and I go off into an escape or whatever, content that I've created something adequate. But it's not. I look back the next day, the next week, the next year and see how truly pathetic and inept it is. "Poetry" especially. I haven't created a single thing I can look back on and say "I liked that" and have it suffice. It's not because the very vast majority is depressing, either. It's because it's jumpy. Incomplete. It doesn't have a solid center, a flow. It isn't beautiful, it isn't nice. It isn't "good." The same thing unfortunately plagues Perse. I write that because the majority of it is a comedy. It's zany, all over the place, taking all comers. Even the semi-down parts pick back up into a tone that is more irreverent than anything. But I look back and it's incomplete. It doesn't flow, there's no central uniting force. Perhaps because I don't have a plan, I just run with it. Or it's more likely a lack of ability on my part. But I plod on. All of it, inadequate.

Maybe that's why we pursue love. We seek to obtain beauty. It is not enough to merely see it. To interact with it. To dream of it. No, we must own it. It must be ours and ours alone. And once we've obtained it, met the object of our affection's approval, we become adequate. We have been judged by wondrous beauty to be worthwhile, to be satisfactory. And that's all we need.

You could still create art to celebrate your triumph. But you're no longer seeking adequacy. You have obtained it. All previous attempts were a search, a dangerous expedition in a futile attempt to conquer the untamed wilds of reality, of the human experience. What more could you ask for than to be judged worthy by something you so admire and cherish?

You know, I think I like this Romantic stuff better than nihilism. At least Romantics have a chance to succeed.

HAHAHAHAHA Good ole pessimistic silliness. The best thing about all that drivel above is that once I've written it, I look at it, feel ashamed, and hide in degrading optimism. It's all silliness, just forget about it, denounce it, and you won't have to feel so wrong. So foolish.

Alright, now that that's thoroughly out of my system, I can get on to business. I suppose I'll create that drama-ish spinoff that looks more to be a philosophical romp with Lucifer and company sometime soon. It sounds like fun and I'll get to play with the characters some, hopefully. For those who aren't reading Perse, I'd encourage you to do it. The fact that you still bother to come here and read any of this tripe bewilders me to no end. I keep thinking you'd have run away in disgust and terror, but you keep on coming back apparently. Well, although most of the stuff in this blog is flat out wrong, terrible, and negative, Perse is crazy and irreverent. It's fun, too, and although it's not terribly well-written, it's certainly a better alternative than this blog. So head on over to Successfullyfailing and read through the archives. If you read this, you've obviously got too much time, are bored, or something. Can't be good, at any rate. But I can definitively say, Perse is better than this. Tonewise, if anything. Or, at the very very least, join www.abnerdoubleday.blogspot.com and put up what you didn't do today. You'll be glad you didn't.