I just finished reading the amazingly muscular work of fiction “On The Road” by the great american author Jack Kerouac. I listened to it while driving between St. Louis and Nashville, and had my mind blown by the vivacity and power of his work. It was like Fight Club and every hippie’s drugged dream were jammed in a giant blender and swirled around until I couldn’t tell who was mixing with whom.
Of course, I mostly disagreed with what his premises were, but it didn’t matter. The tumbling jargon and the characters eternal search for something to hang on to stirred my mind and made it restless. Made me want a little more.
Made me remember us living in the 21st century, long after our parents and grandparents gave up on finding a reason to live and instead settled for keeping up appearances, often ignore meaning and settle for going through life as if part of a suburban-based sitcom. We overact, poorly repeating lines we’ve memorized, not leaning to heavily against the props in case we fall through like the proverbial honeymooners skit.
This blog is no different. Each week I put out a tiny drip of something marginally worthwhile, but ultimately a trifle. Nothing I say in this blog is enough to give meaning. It’s mechanistic, a bit cold at times. But I hope it helps.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, make sure you’re reading great meaningful blogs as well as this one, too. There’s a space for each in our mind, and without the creative works of writers like Kerouac, how-to blogs are utilitarian to the point of sterility. We must let dreams bloom, grow with their faces toward the sun, and then use blogs like this one to build the trellises around them as support. Build the form first, and it becomes a choking cage.
Dear reader, keep reading this blog. But don’t neglect the writing that inspires you to dream.