mar 5 in idea barrages

Ollie calls the garbagemen “leftovers thieves”. This is the only one of his barks I’ve been able to translate but it is glaringly obvious.

Let’s re-make the Stallone arm-wrestling film OVER THE TOP but about thumb-wrestling instead. I’m leaning toward the title OVER THE TIP.

A cart-racing video game but all the drivers are horror icons. Freddy, Jason, Dracula, whoever you can get the licensing rights to. Kind of a “Mario Kart” but with a Super Smash Brothers cross-over deal. Call it KART OF DARKNESS.

When you’re young, you’re full of the energy & foolhardy riskiness to try and get heard but all you have to say is angst & cliche. When you’re old and have learned a few things, you haven’t the time, the energy or the beauty to be listened to.

The weirdest thing about tiny ideological echo chambres is how quickly the people inside can begin to believe that the vast world outside of them is the echo chambre and that they honestly hold the universally agreed-to truth.

We spend every moment of this short dance just close enough to a nuclear furnace to give us life, just far enough away to not burn us to crisps, yet we still worship extremity, excess, lack of balance. It’s like we aren’t paying attention at all.

A generation of failed “gifted kids” clinging to any lingering chance at being part of The Big Thing we were told we were going to be, of some long-shot movement or mission, of being the Kwisatz Haderach or the Boy that Lived after all. Chasing the high of being under siege at Masada as grand martyrs instead of focusing on gradual but sustainable less messianic progress. A lost generation. My generation. Me.

There’s something particularly sick about the parts of our country who’ll say of a young black man getting shot on his way back from a 7-11 “he deserved it” but will be in shocked disbelief that a white guy paid to drive his car 200mph gets in a wreck.