RUDIMENTS 696.

RUDIMENTS, pt. 696

(zombies)

There was never much of a

difference between 'doing'

and 'not doing' once I got

involved, almost foolishly,

with the workaday world. In

whatever I was doing, it was

the same as not doing. The

things I had to start to do made

no sense to me at all. Yes, and

believe me, I tried. Working

made no claim on me; I never

could keep my mind on it,

disliked it, could never figure

out why people would do it

for 'money' or pay. I found

no value in it - not in the

dealings with others; not in

the lame use of language and

instructional words ( a worse

use of verbiage, I've never seen,

except perhaps in politics).

Concepts, evasions, misrepresenting

things, different ends from the

originated intentions - and all

that for the search of a few measly

bucks to make a salary. The

business world hated me, and I

hated it. Yet, there I was, thrown

like a lamb to the large-mawed

lion staring me down. The most

perfect parallel to the 'business'

of the business world was the

very misuse of the world right

around me. As I said previously,

the old buildings were falling away,

construction and new places were

covering up the old. Right there.

I mentioned already the Blue Bird

Inn, which was right across the

road. There was also, starting

from the near corner, Frystock

Motors - which was an old-line

car dealership; never very large

or vibrant, but it was in place

for many years, with its own

used-car lot across he street too;

now a bank, 'Investors Savings'

or something. Frystock had a

number of iterations over the year.

Nash, Rambler, American Motors,

Mitsubishi, Renault, and finally

Jeep, which was their line when

it all ended. That location, and

the building once next to it, is

now a waste-of-space Walgreens.

When those 'drugstore' chains

began spreading all around, like

Walgreen's, CVS, Rite Aid,

Eckhardt's, and such, it was by

then already apparent, and too

late. The 'dependency' industry

had taken over. The medical

industry and the pharmaceutical

industry ('Big Pharma') had

achieved their cheesy ends -

having most of America hooked

on prescription medicines, toxic

lab-chemical-cares and palliatives

of all sorts. It's only gotten worse

now. When you reach the point of

'medical' as the only growth

industry in a country, you know

it's bad. First off, all they do is

throw up junk buildings - the

most spare and skeletal structures

holding nothing but open space

in a sort of idle, warehouse, walk

through format. They start out strong,

and over time their selections and

inventories begin dwindling, as

they carry fewer and fewer items.

Go inside a Walgreen's someday, and

just gaze around : a bunch of crap

metal shelves, candy, make-up rows,

toothpaste, school supplies, even

remaindered books at bargain bins,

and more. They can't even successfully

keep a themed inventory of what

they're 'about'. Instead, if they can

sell you anything at all, they will,

in a smaller and smaller form of

choice (to lower their overhead).

The game is profit, and if they can

convince you that you're ill, or in

need of some medicine, their local

pharmacy counter - way at the

rear of the store - will take you

over; and you have to wade through

their diminished rows of other

things to get to it. That, my friends,

is not living, and neither is it

caring for the land or place that

you churn up and destroy to make

your own junk palace, in addition

to all the others too. And these

places, by those old names I've

already listed, did it over and over,

and usually at near corners to each

other, in a hideous redundancy to

chase a cheap profit. Do that

crud enough times and you've

got yourself a St. Georges Avenue

of the sort that runs right through

here for about 6 or 7 towns along

the way; repeated, over and over,

the same wasteful formula.

-

At some internal level I felt I'd

betrayed myself, and I realized

it, and it was painful. Yet, there

was nothing else, or little else,

I could do - family, and my

home-owning, had boxed me

into a space I couldn't leave. I

was ready to do my duty, figuring,

or hoping, that somewhere down

the line my chance or exposure

would occur. Fat chance. Nice try.

That's when people get worn down,

burned out, locked in, and ruined.

When you're in the throes of

something, it's difficult to think

clearly, and many options are

just missed, or, actually avoided.

When people begin talking about

the treasure that life is, I think

most of that is a pure idealism at

work. Life is a hard slog, with

many things that just fall by the

wayside. Unfortunately, the way

we've situated society, we've 

allowed economics and some 

sick delusion of money to take 

it over, to rule it and all that we 

do. What that does is give a false 

pre-eminence to the station you're 

born in - what resources you

have or get, the family you're in.

I had nothing, and that was my 

box. You can be the wisest, 

smartest, most ingenious person 

in the world (I'm not), yet

sometimes - not always, but 

sometimes - that same box 

remains sealed and hides you

within it, or keeps you hid 

anyway. It's like a jogger : have 

you ever thought, whatever are 

they running to? Or are they

just tediously running 'away' 

from something and needlessly

'into' something else again? All 

the while, going nowhere, they

do the same thing every day.

-

I'd see all this, and still do, most

everywhere I went, and it was 

all betrayal to me, - a world

ruined, waters turned brown, 

dead men in suits and ties, the

endless wrangle for lucre - and 

it is so even moreso now. I'm 

sorry, but I'm a thinking man.

I may be a Neanderthal in my

historic, original outlook, but 

when I see and saw the descending 

scale of all around me, I could 

only wince, draw back in, fester 

my anger, and removed myself 

from the fearsome lot of the

Humankind around me. It's still 

like that now. If it were legal, I'd 

gladly act the Jack the Ripper role, 

for both sexes. Historicism for me 

had always meant a stern sense of 

self-reliant activity, a resourcefulness 

from within, based upon a willingness 

to learn, pick up ideas, and improve 

from within as well. Not with the 

sickening sense of dependency

and entitlement I see so much 

of today. I owe you nothing. 

I take from you less. Not only are 

we, and have we been, underway 

with the destruction and ruination 

of land and property, but we've,

as well, taken the minds of children

and blustered them with negative

fantasies and stanchions of passivity

upon which to tie and abandon their

egos. Parents now take pride in

growing up zombies.