15 November 2011
Thanks For Reading My Shit
The letters I wrote to Gregor Robertson and the organizing committee of Occupy Vancouver and then published here were the most read pieces I have written here in the six year existence of my one man electronic press. I must thank Gazz over at the Pacific Gazetteer for suggesting, sight unseen, that I publish them. I try and lay off writing about politics, figure there are better informed people who write better about the subject than I. Plus, I wrote off the world as completely fucking hopeless over twenty years ago and have seen damn little in the last couple decades to convince me otherwise.
Here is the thing though - I am an Anarchist political scientist so having anybody other than me reading what I write, even if they do not agree with me, maybe especially if they do not agree with me, makes me feel pretty fucking good. You do not even have to guess how many job offers this Anarchist has received over the years to put his political knowledge to use. That's right - zero. I have even applied for the job I figure I am best suited to - Ombudsman of British Columbia. You would know you have a fucking government with guts the day after they hire me to be the Ombudsman. I even told the government that would not hire me that I know more about buds than anybody.
I told Sonja about the numbers generated by the shit I have written associated with the Occupation. She said, "That's the crap you know about. All that political bullshit. You should write more of it. That's you."
Even though Sonja is right about everything I have my reservations. There is something appealing about writing political shit about a world that is completely fucking hopeless. Imagine old Beer with a seat on the Christy Clark campaign bus, if you will. Makes me belly laugh just thinking about it. But who in their right mind would pay for my seat on the bus, nevermind pay my bar bill for six weeks of hard campaigning?
Think I will just stick with what I am doing now: writing about what ever the fuck I want to, whenever the fuck I want to. No boss to please, no boss to piss off.
Today that is country music. One of the reasons Sonja would like to sabotage my brakes before I go to work most mornings. I have to listen to country music when she is at work or asleep in the car. Today, when I got home from work, I put on one of the cassettes I bought at a thrift store recently. Put out by the Franklin Mint Record Society, it is a Country Music Foundation Official Archive Collection, further titled The Greatest Country Music Recordings of All Time. Gram Parsons, EmmyLou Harris, the Byrds, the Burrito Brothers, Jerry Jeff Walker, Linda Ronstadt, the Band, Jesse Winchester, Michael Nesmith (!), Pure Prairie League, on and fucking on. This is the shit I never thought I would listen to after I heard "Smoke On the Water" first time.
Makes me wonder if there is some other golden shit the Franklin Mint has put out that I missed out on.
You think Anarchists are dangerous? They are not half as dangerous as these long hair dope smoking motherfuckers.