This is a Real Voyage Indeed

I missed last week's paid newsletter (sorry!) because my wife and I's fateful wedding party had finally arrived. It was great, fantastic, and filled with scenes I'll never forget with friends who have, over the triumphs and defeats of my life, made us who we are.

The overall experience I'm finding presently is like most inspired concerts long since passed…estranged and yet forever united within me as a new kind of well for both my thoughts…feelings.., and ego. This then becomes an abstract, personal place I can go to when the applause of that night fades to remember to remember that we are loved, that I am loved and a being like all of us, thrust into the day-to-day, bent by what is happening and not necessarily why, yet still grounded in all personal occurrences as precious as my wife and I's a wedding party, now bygone.

This thought/intro (ramble?) may have a universal truth of experience and, hopefully, an impetus to share not necessarily the experience but the positive feeling of that experience as it can lend to the overall human condition. If I see it all, I see it as an idealistic vision of universal empathy and ethical behavior that, at least right now, feels…a bit lost. How about very unlikely because nothing in life is entirely out of the question because in times of darkness and projected hopelessness, living in a fever dream with my wife, family, and friends was a welcome and unforgettable experience I hope to share, in at least what it gave me, for years to come.

In this newsletter we’ll cover…

Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom! and the Broligarchs

Another Rant About Mr. Chalamet and the Dylan Movie

Free Development for All

Absalom, Absalom! by William Faulkner and the Broligarchs

When lost and genuinely feeling like I cannot be found, I have always tried my best to use the power of literature and fiction to help me contextualize things, mad things. In this instance, while not necessarily fiction, the book Masterpieces of World Literature by Frank N. Magill (Editor) is about the best fiction in the world from the best writers, one of which was William Faulkner with his novel Absalom, Absalom! Like many of Faulkner's novels, the book takes place in the South before, during, and after the American Civil War. It's a story about three families with a specific focus on the life of Thomas Sutpen, who, throughout the novel, is granted four or maybe five vantage points from different characters. Overall, though, Mr. Sutpen is indeed an evil, racist, violent, and "demonic” figure by the verbiage of most of the characters, and he financially utilizes the desire to possess via ruthless means of enslaving Black people and taking over land for the sole benefit of himself.

This isn’t a book report but an attempt to connect Absalom, Absalom!, specifcally Thomas Sutpen as a metaphor of the tech broligarchs we have been dealing with for years and only now, with President Trump leading the way, “off the leash” as it were in terms of what they really want - power and control. What triggered this idea/connection was this passage specifically: “…the urge to possess is the fundamental evil from which other evils spring. Sutpen, trying to insulate himself from the pain of rejection that he encountered as a child, is driven almost mad by the need to possess the semblance of the world that denies his humanity, but in his obsession, he loses humanity.” After reading this I immediately thought of the likes of Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, and obviously President Trump…all people that are obsessed (and possessed themselves) with almost the emotionless, cold fixation for world power that, in their mind, if not able or willing to be controlled, should be thrown away (see DOGE).

I sense this is a much bigger idea that someone much more learned on history of the South, slavery, Faulkner, and much more could tackle but I felt it was worth trying to begin in some kind of brief way before the thought/connection was lost like so many others.

Another Rant About Mr. Chalamet and the Dylan Movie

To be totally honest, at this point, I probably need to talk to my therapist about how much I’ve been thinking about this fucking movie A Complete Unknown, directed by James Mangold. I probably need to show them every single piece written at this point and why, every time I come across a reference of it, be it a clip of the movie or, most recently, Mr. Timothée Chalamet’s award speech he won best actor for his role, prestigious voted upon by his peers, aka members of SAG-AFTRA, I fly into a fury. Maybe it’s because, in some subconscious way, I want it to be me…but shit, I haven’t acted since I was in my 20’s…gave up that life a long time ago. Maybe it’s because Mr. Chalamet got to do such a cool thing for five-plus years and I’m just jealous. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get paid millions to work on a project for five years, learn and play music, and then get awards for it? Ironically, I think that’s what is actually at the core of this rage which, if I were forced to define it…definitions of betrayal…angered by the typical Hollywood superficiality and act of using one of the most substantive artists of all time, and all for the contradictory pageantry that Bob Dylan, apparently since the moment people started to notice him in New York, for all accounts despised and pushed away from.

I hate to sound like the old Millennial relentlessly groaning and rolling my eyes as I say, “You just don’t get it man” but damn, after watching Mr. Chalamet’s acceptance speech for his SAG, very much telling the crowd that “he wants to be one of the greats,” I could not help but be aware of the dissonance of declaration in them by side by side a lifetime rejection of grand narratives. I wondered how Dylan, who was great and didn’t need to announce it in any other way other than humorously labeling himself a “song and dance man,” writing, and playing music, would have reacted to it if he were there, especially considering Mr. Chalamet was winning an award after playing a character from a moment from his real life. There was irony it, tragic irony or maybe, inevitable irony if there is such a thing. I want to note this is not shitting on Mr. Chalamet wanting to be better, wanting to be great, or anything like that. I have nothing against self-empowerment and damn it, if you want, you go sir! Now, hopefully thoroughly protected from the Chalamet Cultists, you have to admit there is a contradiction in the person Dylan was, or at least the one he presented to the world as anti-classification, etc. and what Mr. Chalamet said, no?

If not, I guess I’ll just bring it up with my therapist.

Free Development for All

The search for the "exact right word" is, I’m realizing day to day, a synonymous act in true self-expression; a metaphor for any individual's quest for authentic self-expression and development within the very real restrictive social frameworks we all live with in varying degrees and intensity everyday. Precise, personal, meaningful language allows for clear communication of one’s self, and not any other if, one is allowed to get there and then be there to do so. This to me is a genuine path of finding one’s authentic self which then allows for hopefully grounded, social participation that others, seeing and feeling this, want to explore. But shit, it’s hard and getting hard as tech encroaches evermore leading me to this fateful line by Henry Miller:

“America is no place for an artist: to be an artist is to be a moral leper, an economic misfit, a social liability. A corn-fed hog enjoys a better life than a creative writer, painter or musician. To be a rabbit is better still.”

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