Bigsley the Oaf

AgeFuck / Path vs. Web

Posted in Uncategorized by bigsleytheoaf on July 25, 2012

In the future, 40-year old men will experience what became known during the 1980s and 90s as “midlife crisis” on a daily basis, and often more than once per day. Each day, the unfolding of chrysalis to reveal new chrysalis to reveal inner child growing out of inner child. This prediction hinges on the belief that time/history itself is undergoing an accelerated process of self-reflection – that the young are in some sense becoming “older” but that the resultant gap at life-end will be composed of childhoods and increasingly accelerated aging schemes. [1]

To be much less cryptic, children are growing up real fast, yeah? Little kids have more Facebook friends than me. Their balls drop faster. Menstruation happens sooner. Bigger muscles. Bigger brains. More efficient. Better connected. Kids these days!

Each person has their breaking point, though – the point at which they can no longer accumulate new connections, new skills, new knowledge. There are two divergent paths stemmed in this crisis point. On one path the human becomes a plant, living in a sort of emotional and physical paralysis, maintaining a set of roles and functions which allow the entities connected to plant to survive. On the other path, the human breaks from society, going into reclusion, maybe getting a tattoo or riding a motorcycle. He experiences “expression of individuality.”

But the latter path qua path has itself become commoditized and schematized. These expressions of “individuality” are themselves only preemptively laid-out plans, concocted by suits and marketing whores, composed of consumption and political routines.

So the individual will discover that their individuality itself is only an expression of an even more deeply rooted connection. And so on and so on. Each reaction to connection itself only another string which ties the organism in to its pre- and over-determined, over-connected life web. It is the precisely set of revolutions against and releases into “the system” which ages humans more quickly than ever before. We are recurrently living out the recorded lives of our ancestors. It is a gaping maw from which there is no escape.

[1] This actually isn’t as cryptic as it sounds. Let’s say that little Jimmy grows up faster than his dad by like 1 year per 5 years. Then what happens when Jimmy is as old as his dad was? Clearly he’s lived “past” his dad in some way – but what is the content of his old age? Does he become incoherent? There are a lot of assumptions about “life path” here that I don’t even want to work out, but I hope you can see what I’m getting at.


judge judy

Posted in Uncategorized by bigsleytheoaf on July 23, 2012

In California I often encounter the belief that every experience is sacred. The idea that years of watching reruns of Judge Judy and eating microwave pizza is somehow spiritually equivalent to years spent climbing mountains, meditating, searching for the old wisdom. They’re both “experiences.”

I want to untie the semantic knots here very carefully, because I think there are a lot of subtle things going on in this discourse.

I mean, I feel the intuition behind the Californian position. I spent years playing a Luxembourgish online role playing game called Prophecy ( It was perhaps a strange modern form of meditation. No? I play countless games of go, learning nothing. Am I really not perhaps, in manipulating symbols mindlessly, searching through the content of my life? Would I have been better off, experientially, reading? I would be better connected to the Zeitgeist, sure, but I don’t think that’s a good definition for spiritual progress.

Do we know what’s going on when someone watches judge judy and eats microwave pizza? What’s “really happening” there?

Part of the friction I feel when I hear a statement about the equivalence of experience stems from the fact that this assertion is (perhaps for reasons of ambiguous semantics) a simultaneously relativizing and universalizing one. It’s one thing to say that two things are equivalent because they have no value – it’s another to say that two things are equivalent because they have the same value.

I suppose it’s still unclear to me what the Californian means. She wants to believe that her own experiences (and she has lots of them – and they’re carefully stored in a well-manicured list on her online virtual representation of self) have value, are part of a progress, a “life work.” But she wants to believe that Mr. Judge Judy watching motherfucker is somehow equivalent to her. She can’t say “oh no, that’s person’s wasting their time, that person is a waste.” To be consistent she must claim that his experiences are somehow equivalent to hers. But this either debases or devalues her struggles. She’s not a nihilist. She doesn’t believe that nothing has value. And she clearly thinks that some things have more value for her. Why does she even feel comfortable relating her experiences to those of other people?

Let me try a different tact. To every experiential point, there is a counter point.

I should do X to stay healthy. But I’m going to die, anyway.

I should do X to find myself. But identity is an illusion.

I should find some good friends. But their consolation is temporary.

Now I’m not trying to get all negative nancy, here, but what I’m saying is that there actually is a degree of arbitrariness when trying to investigate the values of different actions as such. It’s a snake pit that’s easy to fall into. Little Wayne said:

“Fuck you, that’s my cup”

meaning that you can’t ask him about what’s in his fucking cup. Don’t ask him what he’s doing. Don’t ask him why. Don’t ask him if he thinks it’s valuable.

Don’t ask the tree why it grows a certain way. Trees can’t talk.

I feel like I’m coming out of a cocoon.

It is awkward and painful.

I’m sorry.


Posted in Uncategorized by bigsleytheoaf on July 18, 2012

Oh drag us towards the light and peace of a grass hill in Spring –

So that we may

Forget the dark and quiet heart of the sun,
The space between our atoms.

Courage to be Lost

Posted in Uncategorized by bigsleytheoaf on July 18, 2012

Sometimes when I feel lost I tell you:

“I am lost.”

And your heart is not clear, so it clings to my words, and it reflects:

I feel lost.”

But your mind rejects your heart and so you think:

“I am not lost!”

So you say to me:

“You are not lost!”

And I turn away from you, back into myself.


Sometimes when I feel lost I tell you:

“I am lost.”

And your heart is clear, so it does not cling, instead it reflects:

“You are lost.”

So then you say:

“You are lost.”

And the words hang between us like the ringing of a silver bell.

The Scale of Suffering

Posted in Uncategorized by bigsleytheoaf on July 5, 2012

Staring into oblivion is its own work. The void is fruitful. That which emerges from it is essentially new. The void begets growth and transformation.

Suffering is nothing but the void’s yearning for selfhood – its desire to not just produce, but to be. It is impossible.

Every form is empty qua form. There is no internal essence or real substance to any “thing.”

Recent events have stolen my heart from the void. I am thus freed, yet I burn. Every truth is excruciating. The fact of my needing to know any particular thing is overwhelming. Cat is here and the tension of that fact – that in the 14.5+ billion year history of the universe there is a small fluffy form which persists only momentarily, that came from nowhere and goes nowhere.

Everything is a weight – I can transcend or lift.


Posted in Uncategorized by bigsleytheoaf on July 2, 2012

The problem with being sober, well. Let me tell you about it.

If I kept being sober forever I’d probably drift into the forest and I’d probably fall apart and probably become just a bunch of rocks and twigs. See?

The problem is that there’s no way out. The problem is that there’s no way out. You can blow your brains out, but you ain’t getting out. You’re stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck. The void is there, always, sucking you. You can’t get away.

Not if you’re sober, no.

The thing is, I’ve been sober for 2 weeks. No alcohol, no cigarettes, no caffeine, no sugar even. I’ve been 100% stone cold fucking sober. And it’s been the hardest 2 weeks of my life, hands down. I’ve gone through more of an emotional shitstorm than I could have ever imagined I’d have gone through.

And I’m grateful that I went through it. It hurt like a motherfucker, but I’ve been learning about all the blindspots and weaknesses and perversions that I’ve allowed to accumulate in my life. I’ve been brought face to face with the ways that I am weak – the shit that I have been compensating for with chemicals.

But shit has started to creep up on me. I started adding people back as friends on facebook. I followed people on twitter who I didn’t give a shit about. I have become more self-absorbed, almost self-obsessed.

I’ve become increasingly obsessive. I’ve become unstable. I’ve become weak.

I’ve become austere and irascible. Misanthropic and weird. Utilitarian.

I don’t like it. I don’t like the fundamental stuff of being sober all the time. It is one perspective, uni-dimensional.

I smoked a few cigarettes earlier tonight.

I feel very calm. I feel in control. I feel like I can push things out of my mind which I don’t want there. I feel stable.

I feel cool, even.

I don’t know what this all means, yet.