I’m hard pressed to make a transition from the Samuel Beckett piece, it seems there’s nothing more to say, ever, nothing ever needs saying again. I don’t know if I’m reading the stats right, looks like about 200 visiters came over since it’s been up and I wonder how many got through that piece, and if so will it stay with them, add to their life, and if not will they respect the considerable impact it could have on maybe one person out of 200, how for that reason alone vexing, demanding and unconventional art must be disseminated, accessible and included, because what it does is so necessary and so hard to come by, the good it does for the few far outweighs the irk experienced by the many, who are fair people. Huh. I am not an apologist, I’m saying that post was my medicine this week. I read it 15 times, I got off the bus and ran to it twice.
My next post should be about Tuesday’s House Committee meeting on foster kids and psychotropics, big state controversy I’ve been following 2 years, have my notes right here, just don’t have the heart to replace pure healing Beckett with pig psychopharm greedy malfaseance perpetrated on voiceless and throw-away toddlers. But no, the whole idea is to look, if you look you will respond, Beckett sure must have trusted in your capacity to assimilate, to push through the revulsion, name the unnamable, approach formidable upfucked reality from all different angles, turn wrong on its head til we cut it down to size, step up, we are suited for this, we are stewards. Howling into the void, yes, well, sure, that’s part of it too. One out of 200, I’ll take those odds and be back tomorrow, stay true and be well.