Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Eleven... or Pissing in the Wind

It all started because the esteemed Gulfboot Johnson got tired of my writing him long emails about the early years, when El Kono was just a kid from Cleveland stuck in the Wyoming hills playing basketball and the hi-jinks that ensued, he claimed that it was entertaining and it was a waste that he was the only one to see it, he said that on this thing called the internet there was this wacky new trend called blogs, i thought that sounded like a medium for fucking wankers and besides i didn't know how to go about getting something like that up and running, i was a technological Luddite, even more so then than i am today, and so the truth is Gulfboot set this experiment up, set up the site and if my memory serves helped come up with the name for it, a combination of one of my favorite words at the time and one of my favorite places, and thus was birthed the Asshat Lounge...

When it started there were no expectations and eleven years later there are still no expectations... I had no idea what i was doing or what would happen and luckily nothing happened and i still don't know what i'm doing, through a distinct lack of talent and ambition i've achieved exactly what i set out to do which is nothing, the Wu Wei with a bit more typing thrown in...

Since doors opened here at the lounge a whole cottage industry has sprung up around the business of blogs, awards banquets and conventions and such, money has changed hands and the lumpen prole, as usual, are sold a dream of success and riches beyond their wildest dreams, yet what the fuck is success? i have no idea, i guess some would say a moron in front of a typer putting somewhat incoherent run-on sentences together for eleven years could be success; it could also be said that someone with no readers and few views might be a sad and lonely sort, maybe he's a bit off mentally, like Sisyphus and his boulder or Charlie Brown and his football, then again i don't really know what those things are or mean, i thought metrics was how they measured shit in Canada...

And so here i sit doing what i always do, what i've done off and on for the last eleven years, telling stories to myself in hopes of amusement and to stave off the mindless glow of the telly, the hopes and dreams of the young Kono have long since faded, in fact the old Kono barely recognizes the young Kono but actually that would be a lie, the old Kono just doesn't give a fuck about the things his younger self did, is more comfortable with himself than the young one was, a fact that most of the people who knew they young one would be puzzled by seeing as that young Kono was full of bravado and cockiness as those young sorts are apt to be full of, now i'll to revert back from third person to first, i just do, it's the act that i enjoy, i all i ever wanted to do was sit down and type things out, be it metaphysical musings or stories, to leave my history so that my drug and booze abused brain could go back and see what a fool i've made of myself, like that Memento film without all the tattoos...

There is a fluidity here that sustains me like the air and water i need so much, there is a past and a future which merge into this now and leave the words written like chalk on the sidewalk as the first drops of rain begin to fall, the words are there and then gone, washed clean and reborn, they are remembered and forgotten, they ebb and flow like the waves meeting the sand and they are mine and they are not mine, everyone's and no one's, it may go on for another eleven years or it may stop tomorrow, what i didn't know eleven years ago but have learned in the process is that it's the act of creating that holds the meaning, the rest of it is so much window dressing, a distraction from what truly matters... and if that is the only thing i've learned than it has been well worth the time and energy invested...

11 comments:

Exile on Pain Street said...

11 is a good run. And you populate with quality. Not quantity. There are enough of the latter.

Would you have wanted 11 chronicled years of your da's to read over? That's what the boyos are going to be faced with.

I had the day off yestreday. This morning I'm on my way to the office. I'm pretty sure I've got an idea of what success is. And it doesn't involve the Port Authority bus depot.

kid said...

"Where have the years gone? Why, into the usual vices of the romantic realist: into sloth and melancholy, each feeding upon and reinforcing the other .... Into watching cloud formations float across our planetary skies. But mostly into sloth and melancholy and I don't regret a single moment of it."

- Edward Abbey

Kono said...

Exile- doth cite the great BTO- you get every morning/ from your 'larm clock's warning/ take the 8:15 into the city/ there's a whistle up above/ and people pushin, people shovin/ and the girls who try to look pretty/ and if your trains on time/ you can get to work by nine/ and start your slaving job to get your pay/ if you ever get annoyed/ look at me i'm self employed/ i love to work at nothing all day...

and thank you as well, funny you should mention me da, and yes i'd love to read 11 or more chronicled years from my father, he's a smart dude... unlike his kid...

Kid- "But mostly into sloth and melancholy and i don't regret a single moment of it." You (and Mr. Abbey) know me well... say hello to the cactus and the river and the lizards and the moon for me while you're out there in the wilds...

kid said...

one of Abbey's heros was Algren. no one's a stranger here. ... the governess of the desert (creosote bush) sends her best.

Ross Man said...

I dig reading what you're writing.

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Keep at it. You're one of the good bloggers. I find sitting down to blog helps me keep things in perspective and helps me appreciate life a little more, which I think you're kind of saying as well.

looby said...

Eleven years -- I was going to say "well done", but if you're anything like me, blogging's not merely a pleasure but almost a need. That makes me sound very vain but you get the idea.

Keep on keeping on -- I'm glad I came across the Lounge and have enjoyed lounging about here.

And P.S., that quote from Edward Abbey is brilliant -- thanks kid!

daisyfae said...

it was through our mutual blogmate, nursemyra, that i believe i first stumbled into the lounge. your words here helped me more than i can ever tell you - as i struggled with a boy in his own version of the wilderness years. a boy who was ridiculously smart, well read, and self-destructive as hell (sound like anybody you were?)

like you, i'm not sure why i still do this - mostly because it feels good to have my thoughts organized, but also because there are humans out there in the ether who read, resonate, and respond.

thank you for still writing. i enjoy it very much, and look forward to meeting up in person some day!

Kono said...

Kid- Abbey had good taste in writers, ;)

Ross Man- gracias, mi amigo...

Dr. Noisewater- Muchos gracias to you as well...

looby- i don't believe it's vanity my friend, it's just what we do, i think more people should document the everyday and the mundane so that if there is a future and we don't destroy the planet, people will be able to find these things and read what life was like for the lumpen prole and not the lifestyles of Jay-Z, the Kardashians, J-Lo or any of that other non-sense that people think is real... and The Kid is fucking brilliant, someday i'll immortalize him here on the lounge, lol!! thank you my kind sir...



Kono said...

Daisy- Thanks Ms. Daisy, i don't know anyone around here who was smart and well-read, i do know that there was this self-destructive, cocky, weed-slinging asshole who did his best to fuck and sabotage everything and anything... as for that boy of yours it is a joy to see what he's done, if my words helped that is a compliment of the highest order and i thank you, i think the boy had it sorted the whole time, he was just messing with his momma... ;)

Kono said...

that's fuck up and sabotage... though the original is probably pretty correct as well...