I’ve never actually just posted to this blogsite on a whim from my work desk (and I don’t really think anyone really reads this anyhow), so I suppose I’ll get the twinge of excitement from publicizing my thoughts, without anyone actually having to read it.
I’m at the nexus of tedium and avoidance. I suppose that means doing just enough to reduce the guilt of actually accomplishing nothing, yet failing to do anything for the pecuniary gains of my employers. I wonder whether its better just to resign oneself to the fact that a work environment is really just the stuff that props up the rest of your life. It adds structure, enables us to eat over-priced calamari, and rock out to the digital Dylan in our pockets (I have to admit though, that coming to work while he defiantly shoves off Maggie’s farm is a bit of irony that’s sometimes too much to stomach).
Adding to the tedium is what sits outside my window. I wish I had a picture of the day (if you can call it a day, its more like a permanent dusk, but unlike dusk it never delivers on its promises). The luminescence of the town can not have wavered one candle since 8am. It just sits there, in a stagnant, stubborn complacency. Offering nothing, but the reflection of my own state of mind.
I once heard a professor say that the more he continues through life, the more conservative he becomes. But I hate to think that conservatism and the right of the business and the right of the strong-willed is the optimal solution. I find myself caught: as I listen to Woody Guthrie sing about the 1913 massacre, I can hate the scabs and the avarice of the union busters, but to know the truth of where that has lead, it keeps bringing you to the middle. But the middle is a boring place. Compromise is a boring solution. That’s why no one makes an icon of the great Compromiser. Che Guevera said that “Striving for the Impossible is Realistic”. But in that he stands for something, that in its ultimate expression probably doesn’t work. A Che Guevera who says “Striving for the Realistic is Realistic” probably wouldn’t have sold many t-shirts.
But maybe I don’t have to play the role of the compromiser. Maybe, choosing the radical side serves as a counterfoil to the realistic and then we end up in the middle ground. Not because that’s what we fight for, but that’s what results.