An English In Kentucky



















June 23rd 2009

    So often evil is a necessary aspect of vengeance.  Within 'polite', the idea was to do away with the instability of an "eye for an eye".  Oiliness substitutes sometimes, but mostly it leaves me with a sense of dissatisfaction.  And there is a giant flaw in forgiveness, the wrongee has to request it from the wronged.  A conjunction of illusion that possibly a curator, or fear might cure.

    For my part I see in vengeance a future moment of purity.  A moment that is dimmed occasionally by a perception of vengeance foisted upon me by a majority that has decided vengeance belongs elsewhere.  With the Lord or the State, or Hollywood.  In other words, having achieved this moment of purity, I will become unstable and scary.  Mothers will hide their children from me.  Little dogs will yap at me.  I will be consumed by guilt.  My grave will go unmarked.

    I see myself now, a little blob of fortitude against the massed ranks of perfection, and I understand why Catholics go to confession.  I hear the words of Nietzsche wondering "why am I so brilliant?" and I know the dilemma with loneliness this sentence produced for him.   Today I say, 'polite' is more like fear.  And fear, absent a reasonableness, makes for an angry soul or a sad soul for whom there is no justice, only vengeance.


     "What is to be done?" Lenin asked.  His answer was the training of individuals toward the hastening of an inevitable end.  The revolutionary vanguard was a social structure informed by a perceived truth in economics, rather than god, and led by men who wanted power.  A mass movement of the "I that is We" which would so infringe upon the "I that is Me" as to eradicate it from being.  Then perfectly we would live like bees in a hive.

     For my part I look into the Aedicule and I see a moment of revolution.  Tempting to think it belongs to the real.  But I know it does not.  Instead, I know it is the "I that is Me" saying to hell with the "I that is We". 

    It is a predicament, and I feel for those often young and restless minds amongst the Persians, but then, I have my own vengeance to curate.  And sometimes a person just can't help it.  Therefore, and I should whisper this, it must belong to a chromosome. 

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