Conducting A Song Upon the Katzenklavier
I'm writing a sadistic novelette.
It's called The Endless Road. It begins in the middle of a great forest in the middle of a great city in the middle of a great country. As the main character walks about an endless road, he confronts strange elements, and eventually comes to the end of the road. It documents his exploration in an empty world, an apocalypse minus the apocalypse. We uncover the truths of this world. We take a walk through a long hallway on the other side of hell. We see suffering in its most potent and in its most hidden. The story is sadistic.
There's an instrument I've been learning about called the Katzenklavier
This piano relies upon the torture of cats to produce music. The sole purpose of the instrument is to pull a prince out of his melancholy. Do stories not do the same? I find stories where the main character goes through no struggle or inner conflict quite dulled. And if we live vicariously through these characters are we not in some sort of way masochistic?
There's a law in Georgia, USA that allows drivers to essentially speed up to 10mph over the speed limit in non-residential etc. areas (areas under 35mph). Nobody knows about it, and I can't even find it on the internet. The legislation is under Section 40 something 06. Yeah. Nobody knows about the law, so we just follow the speed limit or go over it unless we see a cop. Imagine if there were rules that nobody knew about that could allow you to move faster than all the other people around you—like in traffic or business or government or even life. A select few made and used these rules. Sounds paranoid.
We're pretty nostalgic of the scenic past. Setting up a cabin and fishing/gardening with a dog, away from the noise of the city. Living on a tropical island, sustaining oneself from the fruits of the island. Making a tree fort in the wilderness and hunting with a makeshift bow and arrow. We associate these notions with terms such as badass or rogue. Wielding a large, serrated Bowie knife and cooking red meat over the fire sounds WAY cooler than cutting a pre-packaged cut of sirloin with plastic cutlery. Foucault argues that the past didn't suck, but he's wrong, it did. Why are we so nostalgic for these elements? Westworld connects this nostalgia with a lust or longing for self-growth and independence. There are arguments that this is only able to happen in an apocalypse, where society crumbles and we no longer hold customer service jobs at Starbucks or sit in comfy rolley chairs (or farming or military or any other job there is). We're stuck. I'm stuck.
I have 2 summer jobs that consume the large bulk of my day. Yesterday I had to "wake up" at 4:30am—rather, I stayed up late because I got home at 10:30pm and ate candy in bed—and work until 12:00pm doing customer service for the donut shop. By 11:00am I was falling asleep on the job, and at 12:08pm I was falling asleep on my bike ride home. I took a two hour nap, and stayed at the house until 4:40pm, at which I headed over to my pizza job. Another 5 hours of customer service. I took off an hour early and hit my bed. I couldn't go on a run. I couldn't read my book. With the imminence of my second job I couldn't focus for anything less than a movie, and by the end of my second job I had no time or will to do anything self-improving or even fun. What a worthless day I'll never get back.
I did do something right: I fulfilled my New Year's promise to watch Moana. It took me 6 months. The music is something beautiful and inspiring—a tale of adventure and discovery. Maybe we want to suffer, but not the slow and exhausting way. Customer Service suffering tastes worse than an ascetic journey through the scenic. I quoted Frank Underwood on pain in my "Traditional Sitcom Summer," but the truth is that we're living the traditional sitcom life in a world where there are no nostalgic escapes to the woods. Even with all the education an ivory education brings, most people I hear end up living pretty uninteresting lives—though "nobody's truly boring." Sure, nobody's emotions and perspective is boring, but I think that an unfulfilled existence is undesirable. I don't even fucking no if the nostalgia would bring me fulfillment, we often only remember the good memories.
I believe I've found the reason why the youtube channel Primitive Technology has so many followers and voyeuristic views. It's a sad truth that I believe David Wallace has seen, and couldn't shake.
Primitive Technology jump cuts from achievement to achievement. Boom. He's cut down a tree in three fucking chops. Boom. Mini sticks. Boom. Fire in a few seconds. He's made a few pots. He's made a garden. It takes 11-14 minutes to make a fucking clay hut barehanded. It takes longer for Dominos to make a fucking pizza with pre-prepared dough and ingredients.
There's serious problem with jobs in customer service. Instead of growing new skills and improving one's self, we get into a nice habit. We feed on this habit: it takes less work. In fact, industries also thrive off our cling to habit. As I'm writing this, I'm beginning to think that having two jobs is less and less impressive.
AND NOW.... WAIT FOR IT..... THE BEST LINE IN CMBWRITINGPORTFOLIO'S HISTORY
I've started very recently to feel deeply that we're all being played like a Katzenklavier.
Ok now let's reverse the conversation and get back to MOANA. It's actually not some small goal of mine to watch this film. For very personal reasons, it meant a LOT that I could see it, and I'd been putting it off partially because I was afraid of being disappointed. Here's a bit of extra reading you may want to skim
Ok, now for the bombshell.
This is real. Ok—I've been oogling over this for SINCE I HAD WATCHED THE FILM. Moana suppresses her inner passion and preserves the status quo