First of all, check this out if you get a chance. You'll need sound... I understand it's real (not an act or something)... This makes me feel pretty damn good about things... But this guy, man, my heart goes out to him...
On the State of the Cowboy
There are innumerable joys that are bestowed upon any person daring enough to set up home in this, ahem, great state of Texas. The only problem is that any concern or criticism, in fact any utterance of dissent, despite its legitimacy, is met with unreserved shock and dismissal by natives.
About a fortnight ago, for example, after one of those absurd “It’s a big state so you must have a big truck” commercials, I stated “Yeah, that makes a whole lot of sense.” The room looked at me as though I had indeed claimed that Santa Anna and David Bowie, in a homoerotic moment of ill-fated rapture, had eloped and resettled in Arkansas.
And then there’s the whole, ahem, cowboy thing. This makes no freaking sense! Perhaps there are some ignoramus individuals who didn’t get the memo (via the Pony Express...read: Text Message) that the West was settled and their mustang is a CAR! Cowboys, I must say, are not unlike a flightless bird, marching their way to extinction.
Why the Rant?
Today on the bus, as I listened to my ipod (the universal sign for don’t mess with/talk to/look at me) the bus stopped to pick up the most curious individual I’ve ever laid eyes on. Words are not enough for this one.
The best way I can describe this hooligan is a mixture between the Vampire Lestat and Billy the Kid, an Urban Gothic Cowboy if you will. The bus was all but empty; take one freakin’ guess where he sat. I reached into my backpack for two pencils, ready to fashion a make shift cross if need be. Whatever.
Random Digression into Mediocre Prose (Concerning Theatre)
As we discussed our misanthropic viewpoints and spontaneously formulated theories on sadness, our words, somewhere between the stars and our bodies, seemed to linger in the soft night air. Ideas and theories, regardless of validity, rung out an ephemeral second longer. In the end though, fact and fiction are swallowed by the moonlight just the same.
There are times, although few and far between, when I am overcome by the sensation that I’m in the right place at the right time. As though the billions upon billions of arbitrary choices and moments through out all of time suddenly have great unity and purpose, and have delivered me safely to a certain serendipitous instant. In these moments a wonderful feeling of comfort washes over me, and my soul is sheltered by fate.
These moments, under the gray moonlight, swallow me whole.
“I don’t know a whole lot about plays. I mean I’ve seen them and all, but I don’t know much about them.”
-Michael as Holden Caufield
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