I have been mulling over the particular kind abstinence on this thread. And I thought about Solo’s mission statement a great deal, and the very strange behavior of Lindsay, and taking into account that he is a New Zealander, crude is the best way to describe the most sophisticated of them and I began to see a possibility that aesthetics or artistic integrity is totally not the issue for him but passion is. I am also beginning to see that Lindsay is going to hound me with stupid ridiculous comments like being: an intrinsicist, platonic, passionless, blau blau blau, of course if he could see that couldn’t come up…
Perhaps he doesn’t give a shit about aesthetics unless it is improperly saddled with marking out your territory with hot, wet expression.
Perhaps if I where to approach Lanza from where my passion lies and I were to write—what a fucking awesome voice and expression of passion, that guy is giving everything, ringing heart and soul out of guts and filling the air with glorious sound, and he gave everything everywhere he went…he poured and poured out is soul until there was nothing left and then poured out even more. He gave so much that no audience, no wife, no child could give back 1/1000th of what he gave. Like a volcano or cinerary red hot planet he burned everything up and vanished, not some long drawn out boring living death but in a white hot heat of glorious hysterical tragedy? How in the light of that kind of fierce passion can you coldly ask about “paths”? Or career moves? Just fucking watch, sit back, and observe a passion like no other on earth!
He was like the huge volcanic eruption that blew away Atlantis, the island of Santorini, and died as quickly as he appeared; still in its glorious youth—no boring issues of subtlety, growth, watching yourself grow older, being haunted by mistakes you have made, losing some of the exceptionally raw ability, having trouble reaching the highs of your fearless youth.
What do I say to glorious burn out? Fuck NO! Burnout, what a goddamned waste. As an artist and as a person I want everything! To live and bathe in exaltation of love as if I were to live there forever, to integrate my god damned mind in the most awesome way as if I could tap dance over the universe of knowledge as easily as Astaire glides over the studio stage. Not to be USED as a fucking stooge or to be considered a piece of some fucking piece of furniture in virtual lounge of intellectuals! To grow in every way as a human…to know how to find the words to make Lindsay swallow his rants and leave him reduced to burping, which I have done…to glide as quietly as pelican over glassy, purple, pink and aqua waters…to match scholars in the chess of the mind without losing sight of real perceptions and knowing which normative conclusions actually lead towards flourishing life.
Here is Lindsay with all the fucking guts to personally take on politicians and whole political parties, to take on postmodernism, to fight for beauty in and passion and wastes his time ranting at me like a piss poor whining poodle. Fuck I hate poodles and whinny ones I just kick out of the way.
What the hell do you think Icarus Landing is? Some brilliant guy that burned out? Fuck no. It’s audacious man rising to the most glorious heights imaginable and he found the way to bring that back to earth with wisdom and with the message: “Go for your fucking highest, you can do it! it won’t end it tragedy but in a glowing love of existence.”
So that is how I would speak if I were only speaking from my passion and not from my total being.
Hahahaha
Of course, I can go back to being a thorn and quote Romantic Manifesto about how some men, Lindsay, can’t bide by any examination of their aesthetic tastes; or how Dostoevsky followed is “artistic integrity” to create, the opposite of his original intent, one of the most evil characters in literature; or how your emotions are not tools of cognition; and etc. but I should hope you guys have had enough.
Michael
(Edited by Newberry on 4/18, 6:56pm)
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