Enthusiastic Chat with Asa

me: Hi Asa!

Asa: hi

me: What are you up to, Brother?

Asa: what

me: What are you doing?

Asa: nothing

me: No, you are typing, and you are on the computer.

Asa: oh

me: So you are doing some things. Nothing is when every thing goes away.

Asa: yeah

me: The only time we do nothing is in deep dreamless sleep. When we are sleeping so soundly that our perception of time vanishes.

Asa: who cares

me: I care. It is important to be precise in our communications. There is power in precision.

Asa: i dont know what your talking about

me: In other words, it is good to use the right words at the right time. To say you are doing "nothing" when you are really doing "something" is a misuse of the power of words. Not everyone can use words. Only humans use words. So the quality of our words is the quality of our humanity.

Asa: whatever

me: Whatever? Do not dismiss me so quickly. Apathy is a road to misery.

Asa: ok

me: Develop your mind. Read big books. Learn a lot of words.

Asa: ok

me: Wealth and power and happiness grace those with a strong mind. Never say, "whatever".

Asa: why

me: "Whatever" means that you do not care. If you do not care then life will eat you. You must care. Even if it is only for one thing. Care.

Asa: ok

me: Care so much.

Asa: ok

me: You will have a lot of energy and strength if you care. Do not simply type "ok". Enthusiasm, my son! Look up that word - Enthusiasm! Find out what it means and discover its roots. Embody it and life will flow in and out of you like sweet water. 

Asa: i dont want to

me: Why not?

Asa: its boring

me: Enthusiasm is anything but boring.

Asa: ok

me: To be enthused is to vibrate the cells in your body at a very high rate.

Asa: ok

me: The highest enthusiasm is to move faster than light and to manipulate reality with your mind. Wizards and sorcerers are enthused.

Asa: ok

me: Warriors and avatars are enthused.

Asa: ok

me: Look it up, and become enthusiastic.

Asa: no

me: You know when you are really excited about something? As in when you get a new video game?

Asa: yeah

me: Or you are about to do something really fun? That feeling is "enthusiasm".

Asa: ok

me: What if you could feel enthusiasm all the time?

Asa: this is geting borring

me: What if you could feel enthusiasm all the time... for everything?

Asa: who cares

me: That's because you don't see what's happening right now!

Asa: ok

me: You are my son. Before you were conceived, I took genetic material from my body and put it inside of your mother. You grew there, inside of her! When you gained enough mass she pushed you from her body and you became separate from her! I was so happy that day. I was enthusiastic.

Asa: whatever

me: You were not here before. You were a dream, and now you are here, and we are talking, as father and son, across a great distance through the miracle of digital technology. It's a reason to be enthused!

Asa: whatever

me: Someday you will understand, and you will be in awe. But "whatever" is the road to ruin. It's a sad and selfish trip.

Asa: ok

me: It's me! It's you! There's a we, and we are chatting online! It's amazing!

Asa: i want to stop talking

me: (Technically you are typing.)

Asa: ok,i ant to stopw imean

me: But wow... Look at that you are pressing buttons made of petroleum by-product and making words for me to read!

Asa: i keet pressing the wrong bottons

me: Then stop! It's your choice! You can do what you please! It's fantastic! You have a will with wants!

Asa: ghjdfkiufdhgiurehgvjfhuighrfuivhiuotfghiu

me: Wel pfes teh riht wons!

  

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Asa: fgufdhfre7tghuufd t uergduertfuydb ygrufuy v vgv g v gvg v gvg v gvg vg vg v gvjhb hvfcvjhv tfcvghvyfcg vfv ghvftc

me: lin mi sonyi olik psa;lknf rif

Asa: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

me: Oh my...

Asa: rfgbrfgvbrtghrtgfhqwqewtgbnfjvnfrijvbfdjvdfhuvgcjgeruy

me: So spontaneous! It's all just happening!

Asa: zqawxsecdrvftbgynhujmi,koolllpqazwsxedcrfvtgbyhnjmuik,ol.p;/

me: I don't understand your profound logic.

Asa: qazstryeghffffbv awwawawwaawwasefchcjgjg,hj,hjfkjgkgjhhuhuygybytdfyvhjbtvhbhvjkbhfhbvhvkjvghjvnvjhv,jvjhvhj

me: such nonsense! I love you, Asa.

Asa: ok !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

me: That's the enthusiasm I'm talking about! Do you want to hang out tonight?

Asa: yeah

me: yeah or YEAH!!!

Asa: oooooooooooooooookkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

me: Boo Yeah!!!

Asa: ok

  

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me: I'll be by after work.

Asa: hjgfjythjgyhgyfbghghghghhghhhhhhugui45tyregfbdjt5ygrufh

me: oh numbers too?

Asa: laksjhdgueiwuddhhvgvcbcgbqazzzzzzzzwqwsxedcrfvtgbyhnujmizqawsxedcrfvtgbyhxwsedcrfvtgbyhnujexdcrftvgybhxedcrftvgybhnjcrdftvgybhun

me: Is this spam or a secret message?

Asa: 12345678909876543234567876543234567654323456787654345678765456776545678876545684567898345678876545678987664678908765489076546789655678900876547890====================================================+++++++++++++++++++++++++++_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________----------------------------------------------

Twizzlestix!

The cacophonic calculations of one billion beaming star streams and all the fishy souls therein twisting into flesh and blood and bones amongst the hum and tones of stellar tunes, the looms along the wings of time, and woven weaving in vines and lines of love come creatures of such struggle, smug, and self conceited, hiding from their highest song. These men, the error of a hundred thousand screaming suns, the echoes of some coughing god, who having spat them out as phlegm, negligent, twisted, coiled, and recalcitrant to make it straight; to clean it up; to demonstrate a variation of the spasm of that great goule. Leering query of the quaint and quivering kind, “Eh hem” – politely and too politic, by some Methodistic insistence on contained rage, to call a spade a spade and, nay, a knife a knife; a gun as such. The weeping weapon we all possess and jilt about triangular and awkward toward some inner urge to mate, to make more, to mimic that grand hacking hack above the clouds or hidden in plain view. To these we turn our attention.

We mention first the existential obvious: that they know nothing of their origins. Poems they wrote and cryptic riddles, and some claim mythic knowledge by the whispers of that old pervert they call God. But deep down, they none of them know the past, nor even the past before their born. They say, “It’s thus”, and self convinced they trot about content with nonsense, content with tents that teeter shameful in the winds that come in the quiet, when fate and sorrow pour themselves like oil upon their hands and their hair falls slack about their gaunt faces, and they face the shuddering starkness of their naked minds. They say, “And then”, and cajole and jaunt and jitterbug, and then when the silence they’ve been holding back breaches their silly levies, they flood with nothing and stand agape staring ahead in this hard moment. “Now,” say some, but their now eclipses all the many riddles that they cannot answer, and so they sanctuary in the bitter moment and feign lightness, as do those they touch. No, they know not from where, or how, and they wonder when, and when, and when, and when when comes, they remember then.

Convinced opinions on everything and the weather they pile about them seeking comfort in the comely voices of their peers, but pierce the prose and they are but tinkling symbol, sounding brass, radio static, television snow, and the fickle strength that comes with blown cocaine, the caffeine dream, cannabis seem. All is veiled, and all is vain. We see through a glass darkly, and darkly we stumble, some to stone and some to throne and all unknown. There is no science that can compensate for this wanton ignorance, this tavern cavern wherein we drink of all but truth, and our pleasures are so little, like moths we burn and our powdered flitter adds to the smog. Guess and guess again – a game we play with fire and ice, and, lo, the world doth grind to a halt, and the alternating currents, lunar and solar, polarize, and the caps melt fast in our fervent heat. “Eat, drink, merry make ye!” shrieks the horde of beauty bound idols and their masters sweat and linger on the side, biding time that isn’t theirs. Minding their show business while the sky falls in chemical screens dropped by mindless pilots flying to tomorrow land.

Do not fear the sinister. Fear the brute.  Fear that we are in thrall to the growling maw of ignorance, to our lowest instincts, to those mechanical habits that lurch and drive us, staggering against reason, beauty, and compassion toward the void. No wonder faith and blind dogma, its superstitious bitch, remain the obsession of the masses. It is a candle in the hurricane of our ancient existential crises.