Time is irrelevant in the Post-Crisis of Infinite Failures universe. It's not that it goes by fast or slow anymore, it just doesn't matter. My hair gets longer, my look becomes more ragged and unkempt, my work arguably gets worse and worse, but it doesn't matter.
This is the world of Community Season 4. It's gas leak year. It is both Last March and This March. The now, now, is the now, then.
There was the initial rush into quality. You needed a goal. I downloaded and read a Greek text and commentary of Mark. I wrote 15 episodes of my podcast. I learned to make Fettuccine Alfredo. I started kayaking. I got serious about working out again. I lost some weight. I gained some weight. I lost some weight. I gained some weight. I lost some weight. I've become a serious investor. I've become a meme investor.
But the rush to accomplish, achieve, HAVE-- it's all fallen away into not mattering. Even the women posting instagram power point presentations on how you shouldn't feel bad about not doing things has stopped. It's not that we're normal again, it's just now normal is this, it's a world where time, though ceaselessly pressing forward, just doesn't exist! IT ISN'T!
Some of my high school friends started a discord channel. It's like AIM. None of us have anywhere to go. Nothing to do. It's just idle bullshitting. Some of them of course have marriages and children, but at a certain point in the night, all you have is the internet and the same nonsense bullshit you talked about 16 years ago.
It doesn't matter!
There's a certain fear of attachment to it. Like at a certain point of course the train will start moving again. Slow, at first, then cacophony. What will that be like. Another bomb?
I've been experimenting with anxiety. Maybe a new look for me?
I applied to a job as a writer for Jack Box Games. I am both convinced that there is no way I won't get a call back for it and equally as positive I will never hear even so much as a no thank you. I found a typo after submission. I hate applying for jobs! I HATE IT! HAHA! ITS NOT FUN FOR ME! HAHA!
You have to, must, are forced into working up the hope that this time it will happen. You will hear from the job havers. It will occur. They will respond to you and love you and pay you. But then, again, the ringing silence from the Email that otherwise wants always to talk.
I remain optimistic despite my best efforts.
The truth is that I am deeply insecure about job applications. As a person who boastfully believes that he is impervious to psychological harm outside of the self, it is crushing to know the truth-- you have no control here. It is my greatest fear-- and I am not good at resumes. I am not good at them. I can lie to anyone about products, ads, sales, etc. etc. BUT ME? I DONT KNOW. I DO WORD AND EXCEL. PAY ME?
I listed this website as an accomplishment, and it is. This place is a triumph. It's our greatest thing. We made this out of N O T H I N G because we hate the internet and what it is.
I jumped back into Animal Crossing with Becky "Caluiflower" Pizza.
I have a complicated relationship with Animal Crossing New Horizons. I love it, and it was a DEEPLY NEEDED SOURCE of relief from the early days of Disease World, but now oh the troubles. So much of that game is built to annoy me personally, from the opening monologues of Dog to the TRIBULATIONS OF TRAVEL from the Dodos. It is an assault to accomplish anything besides running around, but then you see Becky's restaurant house and you remember the art of it. The zen of placing the objects and of experiencing the joy that others have had in experiencing that zen. I should post pictures of her home. It's an art unto itself.
And art oh ART. Orange Crush is a zine, an art magazine about Professional Wrestling, and it's so beautiful. Look at this. LOOK AT THIS.
Oh how I have fallen in love with professional wrestling. I love AEW. I love Impact. I've been watching TJPW, NJPW, Beyond, MLW, GCW... I just watched Bloodsport 3 a few nights ago... it's so good. I love Maki Itoh, Eddie Kingston, Lance Archer, WARHORSE, Hangman Adam Page, Kenny Omega, OKADA, VENY, Hikaru Shida, Matt Hardy, Japanese Deathmatch Legend and The Original Death Dealer Doctor Luther and Serpentico.
Wrestling is the greatest art on earth. It is performance art of the highest caliber. You can tell any story. And no one cares. That's almost the best part. The earth as a whole will never love wrestling again. You can do anything you want. No one cares. Cut your ear off like Foley, and they say "is Steve Austin still wrestling". It's beautiful. I love it. It's so good.
Bloodsport is amazing. It's ostensibly a wrestling promotion built around resurrecting the "FAKE REAL" carny trash origins of the sport. It's fake amateur wrestling. It's proto-MMA with predetermined conclusions. It's meta meta meta meta. It's a revival of a thing that wasn't the thing when it was the thing. THE MAP IS NOT THE TERRITORY.
I could talk about this all day. It's the greatest part of there being no time. I can see everything. I have seen everything. I've watched mid 80's NWA. Almost all of 1990's WCW. It's wonderful. There is no time. Time does not matter anymore.
My last, I mean, dead, straight, LAST friend in Boone is moving away Friday. The END of friends. Friends are OVER now. It is COMPLETE. Isolation is now IRON CLAD and EVER MORE. But it's fine! This is where I'm at and where I'll be and where I was. It's perfect tense. An all surrounding constant always never and will be. I am one with the always and the always is with me. I am at rock bottom and the top of the ocean. It doesn't matter. It's all there never wasn't!