Wednesday, January 4, 2012

It Was All Already Clear: But I Couldn't Stop It.

A couple of weeks ago my friend read my tarot cards. My immediate-future card said that there would be much death.


All my plants died.

I wrecked my car.

I had my period.

And today I basically lost my job.

So, death much, yes.

Very much yes.

I can hear my mother an entire state away, sighing, “I told you so.”

And I can hear my roommate, 15 blocks away at her real-life-paying-job, groaning, “gggrreeaatt.”

But. Dear Friends and Family.

I have no fear.

It will all become clear. Soon enough. My future-future card looks BRIGHT!!! And my horoscope said that this year I’d become famous—which would only be like a year off from the time prediction that the Native-American-Meth-Head woman gave me in Hays five years ago right before Virgin and the Bandits played.

Yeah, so I just have to believe.

And probably put some effort into life.

Actually. I was thinking the other day that I need to learn how to read tarot cards now that I inherited a deck from my friend . . . perhaps I can start charging for that. I don’t know if I could make $500 a month doing it, but maybe enough to keep me in beer. . .

Also. I’ve been thinking about all of us who have degrees in the “arts” and how most of us are unemployed or underemployed or shitty-employed and how most of our days are spent wanking off in one way or the other—whether it’s wasting our time applying to jobs we don’t really want while streaming Netflix tv shows, or waiting tables to have enough money for rent and beer but little else—we are wanking wankers. And what we need to be is creators. We need to unite and make something together. Even if it’s low-budget (because it has to be). At least it would be better than mediocrity. We’d feel accomplished. We’d feel that even though we’re not quite fitting into mainstream capitalist culture at least we’re fitting in the way of feeling productive. Think about it; if everyone who wasn't really doing much actually did something...wwwoooaahhh!! crazy time.

I’m currently accepting applications for others to join me in this endeavor. And by applications, I mean, tell me you’re in.

To new, new, beginnings!


  1. I'm in. My creative juices are eating me from the inside out. I like to call it depression squelching all of the desire I have to do anything. I want to say fuck it and let loose on some canvas or blank paper and the ability to say "kiss my ass" when someone looks at me funny or tells me "hey, that's not art." I just need someone as excited about doing it as I am. And who can kick my ass in to gear.

  2. Let's do this! I will totally kick your ass if you kick mine!

  3. Sweeeeeeet. Okay. Um... Hmm... how to do this...