Fallehuckinglujah is my comment on the power of words; it's a bastardization of Hallef***inglujah, which I am wont to say in moments of joy but cannot because of the f*** part. If, however, I switch the f and the h it retains the same feeling but is no longer obscene. Same feeling, same letters, only two letters switched but one is verboten and the other is, well, not

Blame and consent

18 April 2017 by admin

What’s the origin? Did someone do all this or was it created by no one? Seems a straightforward question but it defines the dynamic. 

If I have someone to thank or blame for everything, I have zero control. “It’s God’s will,” vanquishes all hope. If the jerk ahead of me in line at Target takes too long, it’s god’s will again. I get mad, it’s someone else’s fault. 

If I do blame myself, how then to deal with the resultant trauma? “I fucked up,” can go a long way, from death to rejuvenation. If I credit myself, I can be either saint or despot. 

If I live in a world not created by someone, simply exists, all blame is internalized (I fucked up, guilt) or anthropomorphized (fucking traffic, rage). As I discern this cosmos, am I empowered or am I made inconsequential?  

Do I take solace from this awareness, that I’m beyond microscopic, inconceivably minuscule, or despair? Can I share my cosmos with others? 

Leave a comment |

Leave a Reply