It seems to me that many aspects of consumerism are ways of fighting mortality. Collecting and hoarding certainly are, but I suspect the same of fashion and home decor as well.
© Aron Hsiao / 2003
It’s all just monument-building in one way or another, ways of fighting against time and against entropy.
The society that refuses to believe in mortality, even for a moment, is not a healthy or well-integrated society.
You can say “everything dies” until you’re blue in the face, but nobody in this society is going to accept that. The answer will always be, “well, not the expensive, high-quality things,” or it will be “that’s why you get another one before the first one runs out of time.”
We can’t accept things as they are, we can’t accept time as it is, we can’t accept life as it is, we can’t accept ourselves as we are.
We don’t ever get around to living because we are busy trying to shore up our monuments and stop time first. Once that job is done, we’ll turn and focus on whatever else might be in play in existence.
— § —
Sometimes I don’t blog because it starts to feel like a way of not doing things.
Then, I stop.
But I don’t do things instead, then I just… don’t blog. I’m not doing more as a result, I’m doing one thing still less.
— § —
I will try to do some car repairs and maintenance tomorrow. I’ve acquired a hydraulic floor jack, jack stands, and a yet more tools.
I’m nervous. I’m nervous because car repair is one of those nuts I’ve tried to crack my entire life, but I’ve never managed to make any significant headway, and I’ve fucked up expensively on multiple occasions.
But now is as good a time as any. I can’t afford to buy a new car, but I can’t afford to fix the one I’ve got by going the mechanic route.
If I do have to buy, I’m going back to the old Volvo bricks. They were far easier to fix, and far more reliable. Yes, Toyotas are reliable, too, but they’re far too small to be useful. I need legroom and dog room and so on.
— § —
© Aron Hsiao / 2007
Speaking of, I am actively looking for another dog. I’ve decided that despite some nagging worries, another pit or pit mix is the way to go, starting from puppy. I understand the breed, I’m familiar with its quirks.
Plus, a similarly large breed with a similar temperament is more likely to be able to hold its own in a house that already has one 75-pound pit.
I don’t know how I’m going to afford this, but it needs to be done.
— § —
I hate the fact that time passes. I hate the fact that things change. I want to live the same day over and over and over again, like Groundhog Day.
Well, as long as it’s a reasonable day. I suppose I don’t want to live the same *bad* day over and over and over again.
But I am tired of each day being new. It doesn’t feel like an adventure, it feels like an imposition, or maybe like a betrayal.
That’s that mortality thing again.