Weirdness is as weirdness does
Okay, I’m sorry. I’m still stupidly distracted and busy, so I can’t get down to any of the really ambitious stuff I have planned. Instead, I have to sit here on a Friday night after coming to from a semi-comatose state (read: nap) after work, after which I crawled into the shower and then trimmed my beard and brushed my mossy teeth and threw some clean clothes on and came down here to Weatherstone to try to wrap up a project that I just haven’t been able to wrap up. Perfectionism is a cruel master.
If I had a goddamn lick of sense, I’d … I’d … well, I’m not even sure what I’d do differently than sit here, munching on a salad and sipping on an iced mocha which will keep me up for a while but that’s the whole point: Stay awake, close the sale. Coffee is for closers only, and I’m not fucking with you. I’m here from downtown, and I am on a mission of mercy.
Oh. Have I got your attention now? Well, it’s fuck or walk. Have I made my decision for Christ? Am I not making sense? Well, watch that clip. David Mamet may have turned into a Dennis Miller-style wingnut tool, and Alec Baldwin’s a bit of a screwdriver, too, but this scene is utter perfection. I find it weirdly inspiring. Maybe it’s time I morphed into a reptilian asshole, eh?
Well, not really. I’ve learned too much to do that. Love is the answer, and I say that earnestly and unironically. We’ve got to come together and stuff. Like, maybe all pile onto a big cruise ship to the Bahamas with some saxophones and feel the love.
This is what happens when you’re too ADD to have anything to say. It will get better. —Jackson Griffith