While reading Pedro Picasso (the "Atman" primitive) today, it suddenly occurred to me how boring the primitives can be at times.
Of course, I've had the feeling before, and know that this too will pass.
Decent and civilized people get tired of repetitious unrelenting Hate, as do I, but I get even more tired of something else; the primitives, alleging to be socially conscious, sensitive to the needs of the poor and oppressed, always "demanding" that something be done for the less fortunate, ostensibly supporting a "greener planet," but then the primitives turn right around and boast, brag, gloat, about living the good life, having the good things.
The don't-go-there primitive (the "BeHereNow" primitive) with the private swimming pool in her backyard in southern California; the C-Pig primitive (the "California Peggy" primitive) living in Streisandian opulence and luxury in southern California; the Bostonian Drunkard ensconced in his trust fund; Leona Helmsley of DUmmieland (the "flyarm" primitive) abiding in both her New Jersey palatial estate (multiple structures) and luxury quarters down in Florida (but claiming residence in Florida so as to avoid the higher taxes of the Garden State); the kaput primitive (the "kpete" primitive) sequestered in an exclusive luxury "gated community" in southern southern California; the tularetom primitive and all his lake-front real-estate and stable of horses in California; the hypochondrial primitive (the "mopinko" primitive) living in upper-class affluence in a suburb of Chicago; the sparkling husband primitive (the "Stinky the Clown" primitive) and his high-end rental properties; ad nauseam.
And even the near-destitute cooking and baking primitives, constantly desperate in their frantic quest to jam their pantries and closets full of things; the latest cooking and baking junk to be found on half-hour infomercials on television.
I suppose one ignorant of franksolich in real life would assume there is some jealousy involved here, but such is hardly the case. I've had "good things" in life, but have stoically spurned them since I collided head-first into the stark realities and horrors of poverty and want in the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants with free medical care for all.
It was a, uh, rather brutal experience, seeing the worlds to which the primitives wish to consign us ("us," not they themselves).
Even owning a wristwatch (and I used to have a rather high-end piece of jewelry, too), to me, seems a luxury far more than what I deserve, when so many others are in want. Or more than two pairs of shoes, or even a bed (there are beds for guests in this house, but I myself do not use one). My weekly garbage barely fills one of those stupid plastic "shopping bags" one gets at the grocery store.
It's not a bad life, and it considerably uncomplicates life.
I suspect that even before I went to the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants, I was temperamentally suited for the austere spartan life, just as I'm not temperamentally suited to be competitive or a "team member" (being instead the "lone wolf" sort of person), or to be enamoured of the popular culture, or to sit around smoking dope.
It's best to be known for what one is, rather than for what one has.
My usual caveat here--decent and civilized people are exempt from my criticism, as decent and civilized people don't yap on and on about how "good" they are, about how "unselfish" they are, about how "virtuous" they are, about how "caring" they are.
The primitives of Skins's island, on the other hand.....
Well, the primitives are so full of hot air it's probably causing this global warming.
Decent and civilized people live their principles; primitives only preach them.
And so when reading Pedro Picasso today, boasting about all the toys and gadgets in a rented automobile, fantasizing himself in charge of some sort of mission control, it's very difficult to suppress a yawn.
