Direction of Flow
Which way does current flow? From positive to negative. So you see, too, when one looks down on others, this: shit flows downhill.
If I’m somebody, this means you’re nobody. You’re an observer, a purchaser, a receptacle for my shit. You don’t count, but you are part of my count, my views, my comments, my platform. You are a little battery that fuels my ego engine, one of many laborers throwing money into my fiscal furnace.
I don’t see it this way, of course. I’m an artist. What can I help if people are jealous or wannabes? What can I do about the volume of unwashed hangers-on and sycophants? Barnacles on my great galleon of artistic exploration. Cost of doing business. Hey, don’t hate the player; hate the game. I didn’t make the rules. But why would I change ‘em? I paid my dues, and life’s been good to me sooo faaarrr …
When I was a younger person, I loved satire and irony. I’ve lost my taste for it as I’ve witnessed so few folks be able to interpret it as such. So the above is offered with reluctance and an instruction: Interpret this as satire. Please.
Now I’ll lay it plain: I can’t see how folks who are successful in creative arts can be so callous and vain as to not want anything but to help others achieve some success. Granted, my own success is quite meager in comparison to say … well any writer you’ve heard of; and, I’ll allow that helping others is often quite difficult, even when help is mutually desired. But to be so fucking classist and guildist and elitist; it turns my stomach. It’s the epitome of ‘I got mine.’ Fuck those people. Respectfully, of course. But fuck ‘em. And if you’re a defender of them, fuck you too.
