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Love and apologies to everyone who wrote. If it makes any of you feel any better, I didn't reply to ANYone. {As well as not writing my web-lo, I also stopped reading them en masse, and my e-mailing has fallen off to a current status of virtual degree zero. So don't anyone in particular take it personal, like. When I'm an asshole, it's across the board. 'K?}

Take your pick: Big Giant Brain Unplugged. Mid-{I should be so lucky!}-life crisis. Seasonally adjusted depression. A few blown fuses {I think that Ian Mac piece alone blew out a coupla circuits. More on that topic anon., possibly.} General mooniness, terminal moodiness. Too much screenHead, other chakras fading away due to under or NIL useage. A 1000 books to catch up on. Various secret disaffections. Laziness. {NB: laziness is GOOD, people! At a time when the world is being taken over by various Fundamentalists, Born Agains, Good Catholics and Nanny State operatives, I feel it my magickal duty to reclaim abused terms like lazy, mad, drug addled, pretentious, unrealistic, etc. ... One might go so far as to say: 'They' don't WANT you to be lazy! For it is surely in the mulch of mass laziness that a true altrernative Autonomia for our times might refind its rhizomes and grow ...}

I was anyway always planning to have an End of Year Round Up/Quiz; and a special Big Read section, listing my own substantial selection of Essential Texts for the Incoherently Angry. One of the few positive offshoots of the Bush reign has been a wonderful flowering of decent "political" reads. There is a hinterland of devastating and inarguable FACTs contained therein which, in my opinion {and this opinion To Be Developed} holds the true key to anti-hegemonic opposition. Bush, surely, is no more than a chimp in a suit, a mouthpiece; and it distresses me slightly to see things like the toppling of the Bush statue, to see such concentration on him as a bogeyman*: it feels like an intellectual dead end, enjoyably carnivalesque maybe, but no more in its own sweet crowd pleasing way than pure empty mirror image of the successful Republican installation / construction / polishing of Bush as Great Man figure, determined leader, historical actor, whatever. Everyone knows he is nowhere, mere figurehead, phantasm, (mal a) prop. Real evil lies elsewhere.

{*I even undertook a magickal/Sufi exercise in which I tried to find a degree of heartfelt sympathy for Dubya. It wasn't, in truth, too difficult: it is surprisingly easy, once you get past the hilarity and irritation factors, to see him as a poor scared [rich] kid at the centre of a massive & massively scary OEDIPAL maze: a witless yee-hah who only ever wanted to get drunk and bof the cheerleader, a true Man Without Qualities (never to know the awe and wonder of thinking one's OWN thoughts), who suddenly woke up in the middle of the biggest shitstorm - 9/11 - his country had ever seen. All he ever wanted was an easy - LAZY - uncultured, kick back and listen to the herds mooing and the bottles clinkin' archetypally Texan life. He'd get a phantom non-job on the board of some Houston corporation which would mean donning a suit for 3 hours a month, and the rest of the time would be plain sailing. He didnt even have the political interest, ire and DESIRE - or vital actors ejector-seat training - of Ronald Reagan. He doesnt have a natural way with language, with communication, with urban powerplay and subtext politics. Reagan was PLAYING the mythic cowboy. Dubya IS a cowboy. But he is a would-have-been cowboy whose genuinely evil, thoroughly Political father probably gave him no choice in the matter of life choices...
In which matter, he rather spookily joins our other US Face of the Week: Michael Jackson. (And isn't MJ SUCH a wonderful advert for that vital and healthy American culture and freedom which G-dubya wants to coat the entire world with?) Whether it's possible to feel much sympathy for Jackson is another question entirely: there was a time when I would have said yes, but ... but, for now, just a word about bro' Jermaine's use of the word "lynching": THAT was obscene. If I was someone who had a distant or not so distant relative who had ACTUALLY been lynched, I think I would find that comment just about the last word in beyond the pale unforgivable.}
But, whatever, back to ME and MY list. Where we at? Oh yeah ...

... and the fact that in the last week I discovered True Rage. I realised last night - with an actual physical flush akin to the First Good Orgasm you ever had, or the first time psychedelic drugs clicked in - that I had never before in my life been TRULY angry. I had been dutifully angry - there are, after all, so many things to be angry about. But there were moments during the State Visit - and the media's "coverage" of it - which made me actually physically ill. I have to start writing again - even at the risk of becoming a political boor - or I will end up with ulcers, or a babbling schizo case, or some ITV News night I will blink, click back into real life, look around and see that I have trashed our living room, all frenzied damage radiating out from the core point of the TV, of course).

The problems and contradictions which were at least partially responsible for my temporary cessation of The Pill Box haven't really been resolved. (Such as for instance, my bank account? EMPTY. And I mean, really, literally, not figuratively or relatively: EMPTY.) But I need - gnawingly, spiritually, physically NEED - to exorcise some of this Blair Rage, or I feel like I will implode, lose it big time or have to drop out and go live in a cave somewhere, far away from even the faintest trace of News/Media.

Which, I have to say, the latter option remains - at least theoretically - an always enticing notion ...

But while we're here we must needs be kick against the pricks. In your own time, now, in your own time ...


posted by Ian 11/22/2003 12:14:00 PM

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