Monday, December 2, 2013

numb

alone
in a chair that sags
with those heavy shoulders
he sits.
pen in hand
washed in fluorescent severity
the bulbs buzzing, buzzing

the watch on his wrist tells lies
he slips it off, puts it in a drawer
its hands still
punching in the darkness

the page in front of him stares back
doesn't blink
doesn't care
white and empty
his twin brother

a sigh

he puts the paper in the drawer
to keep time company
maybe tomorrow
was what he said yesterday
he slinks off to bed.


-Jonathan Kirk

Friday, November 22, 2013

"We're Pretty and Sick. We're Young and We're Bored."

Are you bored?

Sorry. Dumb question.

Of course you're bored. You're a Millennial.

You glide through a universe of instant gratification.

You want to watch a movie? Click! You got it.

Music? Click! Done.

Pornography? Click! Remind yourself to clear the browser history afterwards.

You've got an entertainment IV permanently inserted into your arm, keeping you in a perpetually altered state of mind free from your fears of the future, responsibility, and things that go bump in the night.

You've been to all the house parties you could ever want to attend.

You've guzzled all the alcohol you could ever want to drink.

You've had all the meaningless sex you could ever want to have.

Now, you're coasting through your twenties, numb from self-inflicted nerve damage, hashtagging yourself into oblivion, trying to figure out where the hell the time went.

But fear not, my friend.

I have a solution to your earth-shattering quarter-life crisis.

It's a game called Knockout.





The rules are refreshingly simple.

Step 1: You and your friends walk down the street.

Step 2: You pick a random stranger who is walking alone.

Step 3: You walk up to said random stranger and punch him or her in the face as hard as you can, with the goal of knocking that person out cold with a single blow.

Step 4: You and your friends laugh and walk away.

Oh, it's fantastic fun. And the personal benefits it provides are numerous:

A) It's great exercise.

B) It brings you and your friends closer together.

C) It discourages discrimination since your targets can be black or white, male or female, old or young. Knockout is an equal-opportunity game.

D) It allows you to vent all that repressed, primal aggression that we in the Bike Helmet Generation have been trained to ignore.

E) It reinforces the teachings of evolution. Those who play Knockout are the fittest, and they will survive.

What's that? You have "moral qualms" about the game? I don't understand why.

As we all know, there is no wrong or right. Ethics are purely situational. Duh.

Besides, those aren't people you're hitting. No, no, no. Those are merely sentient masses of atoms moving through space. That's all.

So quit wasting your time with those ridiculous "11 Things Every Twentysomething Should Do" lists your friends are always sharing on Facebook. Get off your ass, hit the streets, and go make Darwin proud.

    -Jonathan Kirk

Sunday, November 17, 2013

"Things Fall Apart; the Centre Cannot Hold"

I am a pessimist.

There. I said it.

PESSIMIST (all caps).

A pessimist who is honest about and comfortable with his pessimism--one who doesn't feel the need to self-apply the ludicrous moniker of "realist" because he knows that human perception is incapable of objectivity.

A pessimist who occasionally refers to himself in the third person.

My pessimism is rooted in high school physics. The Second Law of Thermodynamics states that the disorder in the universe will either remain the same of increase.

The universe is crumbling.

The ship is sinking.

Things can never go back to the way they were.

So why the hell am I starting a blog?

I'll go ahead and get the shallow, selfish reasons out of the way.

First of all, I'm bored. Not physically--I'm a full-time student with two part-time jobs. I'm bored mentally. I'm tired of sitting in my room watching Netflix and checking my Facebook. I need some sort of hobby, and blogging is a helluva lot cheaper than restoring classic automobiles.

Second, I'm trying to show off. I write clever things. You tell me I'm good at writing clever things. I feel like my life has meaning. Everybody wins.

Third, any pretentious jackass who watches documentary films, reads Ernest Hemingway, and randomly wears turtleneck sweaters should have a blog. He just should.

So those are some (who am I kidding? MOST) of my motivations for this utterly unnecessary literary endeavor. But there's something else, I think. Something deeper and more visceral propelling my fingers across this keyboard. Something even I can't fully explain.

Maybe it's because I'm slowly starting to grow uneasy about the whole pessimism thing. Maybe I'm not as comfortable with it as I thought I was.

It's like that girl you've been dating for two years but are now thinking of dumping.

She's a huge part of your life. Hell, she's a substantial chunk of your identity.

But now you're looking twenty, thirty, forty years down the road, and the future doesn't look good.

If you stay with her, you see exhaustion. Pain. Desperation. Hopelessness.

You can't see yourself spending the rest of your life with her.

And I think that's where I am with this cynical, apathetic, screw-it-nothing-matters pessimism that has been the foundation of my worldview for so long.

I want to figure out this thing called Life, and maybe the reason I'm starting this stupid blog is so that I won't be alone on the journey.

    -Jonathan Kirk