The current spate of branded parties around town reflects a desensitization towards ordinary interaction. Small groups typically involve people on their phones, a Spotify playlist, some drugs. It’s generally pretty pointless (though a few people still have a sense for how to create a convivial atmosphere). So there has to be something else to get us hard for socializing, for society, to get us out of the apartment-bubble.
Famous people, ticketed events, drinks at triple what they should cost, after after parties. It’s like getting deeper into porn—the old fetishes don’t work anymore, so you need something more extreme.
In the absence of truth, all you can do is make deception beautiful.
It’s impossible to imagine alternatives to technologism, let alone capitalism.
Unwished for emotions, like hungry
Orphans. And the crux of it is this belated self,
Waiting for a new conception of the world.
In a dry landscape, even the demented trees cannot pull
Water from limestone. Unearthed wounds. Even
In the afterlife it’s just the same.
“Language disguises thought,” Wittgenstein wrote. Language allows thought to spy on the world, to walk around unnoticed among us.
I do think it’s pretty pathetic…