well it's about fargin time. the insurance claim i filed two and a half months ago finally paid off. and can i just say that mental health parity rocks.
december is now secure. i might even be able to buy myself some more books and god knows i need more books because my desk is about to fly away as there are only about a hundred books holding it down.
slowly i remember things. i used to find it immediately apparent that progress and profit were violent repudiations of perversion and loss. i used to find it immediately apparent why one would want to 'keep' perversion and loss.
i mean apart from the fact that i myself am hopelessly perverted and couldn't give a damn about profit. (well i like having money enough to live but i don't quite see the point in having more than that.) apart from that i forget and i forget how the simple pleas for order entail a lopping off of the disorderly of which i have always been a constituent and not by choice that is not because i like rabble-rousing for its own sake but because what i have turned out to be or the way in which i have had to live in order to be true has always been a marginal way.
east marginal way is the name of a street in seattle. it is not my name but it could be.
i myself am an untoward result. i have to remember this.
i wonder though if the violence which excludes fascism is of the same order as the violence of fascism itself. is it that in not drawing the boundaries to a complete close one must make impossible the foundations of fascism itself. does perversion question the evil that is exclusion.
whirl whirl whirl