Some will have us believe that we are living in interesting times … or troubling times … or add-your-own-anxiety-label times. To me, these are unsettling times.
There is something unsettling about the present moral climate, and it has little to do with any single cause, country, or conflict. It has more to do with how morality itself seems to operate—how it circulates, how it authorizes and sanctions speech, how it decides when outrage is urgent and when silence is acceptable or unacceptable. There is a rush to define, categorize and label us by our choice on the menu of morality.
So, the question I keep returning to is a simple one: what else is morality doing now?
Authority is usually most anxious when it has to ask where authority comes from.
I was reading the Gospel of Matthew this week—somewhere around the stretch where authority is questioned and hypocrisy is named without much ceremony. There is a moment where Jesus is asked, rather pointedly, “By what authority are you doing these things?” It is a familiar question. Not theological, really. Institutional. Radical, perhaps, but not reckless.
The assumption behind it is simple enough: authority must come from somewhere recognizable. It must be granted, verified, stamped, and preferably issued by people who already have it—so they say, whoever they are. Otherwise, what you are doing may be interesting, even provocative, but it cannot be taken seriously—especially by those whose authority has been safely invested in themselves. The usual suspects, who most certainly have died and left themselves to be boss.
There is rarely a meeting point between my Loitering Words persona and that of my ELT Vista self. The former writes with a chipped tooth, a leather vest, a jester motif, and a sly-eyed grin; the latter wears a blazer, or sometimes a black tie. Nonetheless, in this article— which may end up as a podcast, a rant, a performance, or a plea—I intend to bring both to the table, not to find a middle ground, but to come at you with both barrels blazing.
I write this post fully aware that slowly but surely, attempts will be made to shut me up. It is what always happens whenever someone challenges the gatekeepers’ favorite myth: that censorship is care and confiscation is a form of moral hygiene.
Today’s contention is the recent Australian ban on social media for children under sixteen—you know those post pubescent, randy teens, easy pickings and already labeled a “lost generation” by the vegemighty powers that be. The answer is always to take something away when you cannot control the message. No need for innovation, imagination, or investment. Just take. The political equivalent of grounding a teenager because you do not know what else to do. Take. Take. Take. Offer nothing in return … It’s the same old story.
At times, it seems as if the whole world has become one giant furry-esque Disneyland. Denial is rampant and “turn the other cheek” often means looking the other way. The Internet is crawling with the failed, offering their poor experience as “life coaches” and hawking clichés they have gotten out of a one-dollar book of quotes. Why? Because the Internet is also filled with desperate dreamers—and all the snake-oil-selling sharks can smell blood in the water.
Today, professionalism, experience, initiative, productivity, and creativity mean very little in a dehumanized business climate that more so values the bottom line, politics, or follow-me aesthetics.
‘Twas the yawn before the holiday; you know of which I speak. Not a punter was shopping, not even a post-Black-Friday peep. The billboards were bright-shining on the streets below that glared, In hope that no infrastructure would ever be spared. The doomsayers were glued to the latest i-dreads, While visions of paranoia droned in their heads. And a cat with no whiskers, and I with my crap, Had just drank our brains out, and man we were zapped!
Deeply lost in the woods in the unsettling comfort of your grasp. The misunderstood remain elusive, purposely so … and, there but before ego, grace falls in serpentine gasps.
The window will turn seasons again in a few moments. Stay tuned—the show is about to begin! A cast of characters scatter the dreams, laid out like serpents.
You have reached the ‘Call Center for Existential Obscenities’.
Please hold.
When only the obscene can be seen, taboo fears require puritan counter-measures.
Indifference fuels the irrational and the self-absorbed.
The helpless mutates into a victim of necrotic tendencies and can no longer transmute.
– If you would like to ‘call for help’, please stay on the line. Continue reading →
Manisfesto: Apolitical ‘Who Cares Activism’ in support of apathy and passive anarchy.
With liberty and apathy for all! Stand united to support the right to get lost, do your own thing and not give a shit!
Human Dignity vs. Free Speech:
Free Speech is NOT a right or a privilege that needs to be granted by an authority. What are you stupid? People have mouths; they will talk anyway. We all have our opinions, so shut the fuck up. You have the right to remain silent.
The Pursuit of Happiness:
Life goes on anyway, so get on with it. Don’t confuse anarchy with tyranny. Don’t confuse civility with nationalism. Don’t confuse democracy with liberty. Nationalism and anarchy are not two sides of the same coin. Historically speaking, without ‘anarchy’ there would be no USA – and by the same token without ‘nationalism’ there would have been no Nazi Germany. Happiness does not come in a can. #Winning
Equality For All:
Stand united to champion individual differences. No grandstanding allowed. Yes, there may be no ‘I” in ‘we’, but there also ain’t no ‘us’ in it, either.
Apolitical Preamble:
Political elections have become little more than media circuses promoting ‘groupthink’ and featuring lots of people screaming and grandstanding using the excuse of ‘competition’ to win at all costs. This phenomenon also defines ‘civil war’.
The hallmark of good leaders is the ability to be responsible for and accountable to more than just their own constituents. Any preoccupation with defining political ‘free speech’ is just an excuse for sanctioning brainwashing, censorship and fascism. As such, most candidates for political office will fail in this respect since they don’t know when and how to keep their mouths shut.
Membership:
Power-mongers not welcome. Fear-mongers not welcome. Hypocrites not welcome. Politicians not welcome. Parrots not welcome. Lobbyists not welcome. Conformists not welcome. Dadaists must present identification. Loiterers ARE welcome!
Battle Cry & Mission Statement:
Take your politics and stick them up your ass. Leave us the fuck alone! Occupy nothing. Civil disobedience is both the poison and cure for social ills. Only you can abstain from hypocrisy.
Disclaimer:
This apolitical message approved by Jay Schwartz & Dada Bloq. Do not consult your physician, healthcare provider or a member of clergy. The disestablishment of the establishment will not be televised. Watch Dada Venduza; your freedom may depend on it!
“I speak only of myself since I do not wish to convince, I have no right to drag others into my river, I oblige no one to follow me and everybody practices his art in his own way.” – Tristan Tzara “Dada Manifesto 1918”
Thank you for reading this post. I’m not really sure why you did or what your expectations might be, but I sincerely thank you anyway. I feel it’s important to get that out of the way right from the start, before the confusion sets in. I may be a dadaist, but at the very least I’m also a humanist. Trust me, you can bank on that … just don’t bet the farm.
I tend to enter ‘dadaism’ on forms that request an entry for ‘religion’. Someone asked me the other day “what’s all this about dadaism?” I considered for a nanosecond how to respond before replying “oh you know, dadaismos … dada …” I received a curious albeit blank stare in return as I noticed the corners of his mouth begin to twitch ever so slightly. I SMiLEd and turned away, mouthing the words “have a narcissistic day”. My existence was justified.
Meanwhile, the aberrant logic of the times raged on all around me. In fact, it continues to do so to this day. I would tell you to ‘watch the 11 o’clock news’, but I don’t myself anymore and wouldn’t want to unintentionally to mislead you. Of course, it’s funny because I was breastfed on television, but I’ve weaned myself from it … and for the same reasons I don’t smoke; I refuse to be a slave.
And so I became a dadaist … and you can be one too, if you are inclined to take the plunger.
Loitering Words 