Last Friday evening my family and I gathered for a bit of delicious ass (and if you’re confused, ass is delicious) Mexican food to celebrate my birthday. As my brother left, he told us all to “enjoy the last two weekends in America” — a resonant, if not hyperbolic statement. That leaves us, friends, on the precipice of the Last Weekend In America — a resonant, if not hyperbolic statement.
In a country that seems to be unspooling (on both sides of the political spectrum, mind you, I choose no side in this fusillade of suck), what is there to do?
Why, spend some time with you folks at the Weekend Open Bar.
Gather round, folks. The Vampires at the Throat at here, have been here. But as they drink from us, let us drink together. There is Nowhere to go, so let’s go to Nowhere together.
It’s the Weekend! Open Bar! Fuck, I know I’m late. Last night was a birthday dinner with family, rolled immediately into five hours of wrestling with Bateman. Oh! Lucha Underground. Oh! Wrestle Kingdom 11. Truthfully? I squeezed in a couple hours of Final Fantasy XV between the former ending and the latter beginning. Oh! No matter, no matter.
Hey! Desktop Thursdays! Where I show you my goddamn worlds — populated by goddamn madness, beauty, reluctance, pensiveness, and really just a panoply of garbage!
Yeah yeah yeah yeah, I skipped last week. Sue me! I have a very good attorney, and though he specializes in Bird Law, I think he can probably do me right.
Yeah yeah yeah yeah, I’m over-caffeinated and ready. Oh, so ready. To rock! Here are views from across my existence the past two weeks. My worlds done tangible, done intangible, done textual. All of them, for your pleasure. I hope. Oh, I hope. You’ll share your own world(s) in the comments section!
Oh what a day, what a lovely day. The terrifying, inevitable transition from cultural entropy into the feigned doubling-down of effort and self-disciplined. Yes, yes, friends. Comrades. Frequenters of Space-Ship Omega. It’s the beginning of a new year, the cessation of the end-of-year celebrations. Darkness looms. Deadlines loom.
Hark, hark, may the Ennui strike you more as a honeyed blanket of anaesthetization. And not, oh dear god, and not as the sort of bowels-liquefying anxiety that plunges you through your corpus, through your bed, through your plane of existence and onto the bottom of the bottomless chasm of existential dread.
Oh, you need a lifeline? Oh, you need something to help with this transition back into the wild world of labor extraction? Well, buddy. Well, pal. Well, comrade. I got you. I got you.
See, this here jam is the Monday Morning Commute jam. And here at this here jam I list the various things I’m using to get myself through a work week. The TV I’m watching to close my third-eye, the music I’m using to block out the droning clarion call of Listlessness. The video games I’m employ for the total deinvigorating oculuar-auditory shutdown I just may need.
That uh, pal, that uh. Got a bit dark. But fuck it, fuck it with gumption and assertiveness.
We get can make it through this reentry together.
It’s the Weekend Open Bar.
Here on the Space-Ship Omega.
Round and round and round the Sun we go. Harboring ill memories, favorable moments, abject disproofs of karma, and transformative moments of kindness. In the grand scheme of things, we, the Sun, these burps and blips don’t matter one lick. In the grand scheme of things, these random scatterings of electrical impulses, of poor choices, of wise decisions, of moments of passion and anger, they’re all we fucking got.
Man, I ain’t got nothing to do.
Wife’s home. Wood stove pumping a pleasant, hearty heat. Admittedly, an unobtrusive but steady current of holiday corpulence-fueled diarrhea getting me up off the couch. But as I said, unobtrusive. A marginal push, a half-hearted wipe, and I’m back on the couch. Lounging. Admittedly, stank ass’d.
Man, I ain’t got nothing to do.
It’s that wonderful liminal state between Christmas and January 2nd. Where the entire world seems slumberous, if not not working.
So let’s spend the hour, the day, the week together. This is Monday Morning Commute! Where we share what we’re enjoying during a given week! So, hark! The Calories and Diarrhea Golems sing! What are you up to? Let’s hang.
Man, I ain’t got nothing to do.
Hey! Oh. Oh, hey! It’s Weekend Open Bar! Pray tell, are you being a dedicated consumer? Buying those you love their trinkets, both asked for and unasked? Are you wearied from long lines, or did you abstain from corporeal-shopping in lieu of the gilded pipes of the Amazonian forms of commerce? Hey — man. If the Titanic is going down (and oh, are sinking), we might as well raid the gift shop. Hey man — if the Titanic is going down, we might as well all congregate at the (open) bar!
That’s bleak, that’s burnt, that’s bluster. I’m actually quite content right now! It’s warm here in my cabin on the Space-Ship Omega. I don’t want nothing other than to spend the weekend with friends and loved ones. You folks, included!
It’s another installment of Desktop Thursdays! Here, on the Precipice of Christmas, and a variety of other under marketed holidays turned excuses for consumerism. Desktop Thursday! Where I show you my world(s). Honestly — sort of a slow week for this guy. That’s okay, that’s okay. I’m allowed, I’m allowed. So come, come friends. Leap beyond the jump and check out my existence. Then, if you’re so bold, if you’re so kind, if you’re so bold-kind, share your own world(s) in the comments section.
It’s one of those lazy liminal states for a lot of us here in the Empire. They strike every so often. The early summer. The beginning of fall. The end of the year. Where the great masses of us march to work. Going through the motions as holidays loom. Christmas. The New Year. Oh sure physically we may be there. Oh sure, oh sure.
But mentally? Checked out. Checked out more than usual. Those without vacation days, those not wanting to spend vacation days, attend their vocations. Their corporeal and astral forms in disharmony. One sitting in a shitty, non-ergonomic chair (if so lucky). The other surfing the metaplanes, everyone else’s lethargy giving license to their own.
This here is Monday Morning Commute. It’s a lazy week for many. A liminal week for more. So why not, why not spend it here at the Space-Ship OMEGA. Share what you’re looking forward to this week. Be it the arrival of your Christmas break. Be it the arrival of a movie in the theaters you want to see.
Let’s traverse the linear-liminal time-plane together.
Hope. Hope! Hope, hope, hope. Did you know that Rogue One was about hope? Yes! Yes, it is. Talk about Hope and everything Roguish with us here. Here’s a Rogue One-centric podcast. Done in one take, shuffled out into the night quickly so we can get the conversation coming.