All Ball
-or "The Miracle of the Toaster"
Predator Press
There was a point that I loved college. But I started getting involved in the more political aspects, the economics, the teacher unions -cumulatively this proved very disillusioning. The closer I got to the underbelly, the beloved altruism of academia gave way to the petty motives of the once-respected peers. In search of Superman, I accidentally discovered Clark Kent.
This had far-reaching ripple effects, mostly bad, on the rest of my life. I would no longer go to concerts or seek personal information on my favorite artists in fear of finding something negative that might change my opinion. Deep cynicism and mistrust seeped and eroded into a sort of boredom and malaise of humanity. For decades, I have so badly wanted that that exuberance and optimism back, and yet it escaped me; I ached to find something truly new and marvelous. But through the lenses I perceive the world there is little but self interest, and this blog is sort of an expression, a parody, maybe a metaphor of that; "LOBO" is written as a five year old child, devoid of a sense of consequence to action. Neither good nor evil, LOBO acts on the razor-edge Existential plane of exactly "here and now."
But that's just too depressing a conclusion.
-There must be something redeemable about existence beyond the general experience of it.
Right?
As a menial industrial minion of a book warehouse, I am allowed to listen to an iPod while doing my mind-numbingly dull job. And I find myself listening to highly-randomized lectures supplied by iTunesU. Recently, I rolled my eyes as Marshall Brain released one on how a toaster works.
But it turned out to be pretty interesting.
In fact it got me thinking. Maybe turning on ESPN Sports Center or going down the rabbit hole of news and fiction of my choice is the problem.
-Perhaps our "comfort zones" are just too comfortable for our own good.
There was a point that I loved college. But I started getting involved in the more political aspects, the economics, the teacher unions -cumulatively this proved very disillusioning. The closer I got to the underbelly, the beloved altruism of academia gave way to the petty motives of the once-respected peers. In search of Superman, I accidentally discovered Clark Kent.
This had far-reaching ripple effects, mostly bad, on the rest of my life. I would no longer go to concerts or seek personal information on my favorite artists in fear of finding something negative that might change my opinion. Deep cynicism and mistrust seeped and eroded into a sort of boredom and malaise of humanity. For decades, I have so badly wanted that that exuberance and optimism back, and yet it escaped me; I ached to find something truly new and marvelous. But through the lenses I perceive the world there is little but self interest, and this blog is sort of an expression, a parody, maybe a metaphor of that; "LOBO" is written as a five year old child, devoid of a sense of consequence to action. Neither good nor evil, LOBO acts on the razor-edge Existential plane of exactly "here and now."
But that's just too depressing a conclusion.
-There must be something redeemable about existence beyond the general experience of it.
Right?
As a menial industrial minion of a book warehouse, I am allowed to listen to an iPod while doing my mind-numbingly dull job. And I find myself listening to highly-randomized lectures supplied by iTunesU. Recently, I rolled my eyes as Marshall Brain released one on how a toaster works.But it turned out to be pretty interesting.
In fact it got me thinking. Maybe turning on ESPN Sports Center or going down the rabbit hole of news and fiction of my choice is the problem.
-Perhaps our "comfort zones" are just too comfortable for our own good.
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