The Art of Flux Thinking

*Warning, explicit content. Subject to inducing discomfort and offense. R rated, 18 years old+ recommended age of reading. Try and avoid reading it if you are younger; it’s rather unpleasant.*

Just the other day I was passing through hell; an interesting place if I may say so. There has been a big misconception regarding hell, it is not the scourging place people purport it to be; on the contrary it is rather nippy, cold and gloomy, and more often than not the weather goes through all four seasons in a day. Walking down an arid grey street, mischievous as I am, I walked inside a door to a warehouse that was open — I thought to myself, “it is very uncharacteristic of the Devil to be so disorderly and leave doors open; unless he wanted me to walk in?” I decided to oblige him and my curiosity in a ‘killing two birds with one stone’ deal, or rather, decision. Entering inside, a smile ignited my face as I saw a room boldly titled “Archive of the Hopeless”. Hopeless, what a word, I thought, so powerful yet potentially empty and meaningless. I decided to explore the area, and found filing desks upon filing desks scattered over the place with one writing desk, a pen, and a lamp in the middle – the Devil and his staff seem to practise the art of simplicity ever so well. The curious thing about the room was that there were more women’s, or rather, girl’s names than boy’s lined up in alphabetical order on these filing desks.

After a quick look around I decided to have a read, and I picked a name at random – Janine sounded like a worthy name for my immediate, and very brief, attention. The immediate document in the file was a letter, and at that moment I wondered, “Why doesn’t Mr. Devil acquire himself a database and a little computer or a laptop even; could get one for cheap at PC World? – he could even buy in bulk to save himself a few pounds.” Anyways, I decided to read this quasi-illiterate letter our ‘interesting’ Janine had written to her friend Charlene; bearing in mind this half empty, half full word: hopeless. Pay close attention to my translations and additions in case and should you find yourself lost or confused. It’s wise also, I found, to read this in an English accent for the full Janine effect.

Dear Charlene <3 [code symbol for a heart],

He did it the prick finally ‘came through’ for me. We’ve been trying for two months now, or rather, I’ve been trying and he’s been ploughing all along not knowing what I’ve been plotting. Finally the test revealed positive, blue as the fucking sky. I can’t wait to move in to my new home, and my new income, and my new freedom. It will be “girls just wanna have fun” every night – weed, boys, booze, the whole lot, every day! Woo! LOL [code word for ‘laugh out loud’]. That’s how your Janine rolls, “ya get me”! Hehehe. <3 lol. Damn I miss ya!!

Anyways, this plum of a man, been with him for a year. He’s fit and everything, but I can do better; a rich boy or something, one of those mixed raced boys with green or blue eyes and curly hair, they are so chung [code word for attractive]. Ah, I wish, Charly, I wish, but I have no time to play that card, I need results fast and a way out of this shit hole; and this boy finally pulled through, or rather, ‘pushed through’, hehehe, yeah I’m still bad and I’ve gotten worse ;- ) [code smiley: face with a wink] lol! Will you believe how moronic guys are these days, it’s getting boring, and they are stupid and easily whipped. I am glad we are not as easy to please as our modern men; I’d be worried, hun [shortcut for honey]. Would you believe that he actually ‘loves’ me and thinks I love him back; he says I am a freak in the bedroom and the best woman he’s ever had; his dream woman – how pathetic, if only he knew. Sometimes, I wish he did, it would make him more interesting and worth keeping, as a man and a daddy. Fuck him though; he’s not man enough, not good enough. The funny thing is that we too are easy to please, these morons just don’t know it, and thank fuck for that! Good news for us! Hehehe <3! LOL!

Babes! My mother and her husband are getting on my tits [British for: they are annoying me]! Especially that twat [vagina] who fancies himself [thinks he is] my father! My mother’s husband is not my father, he’s a burk [like a prick/asshole]. Her too, that annoying drunk bitch, who is still lost after 45 years of breathing, what has she been doing; fucking around I bet? How many years do you need to find yourself when you’ve always been in front of you, in the mirror and in your bloody [damn] head? Argh, she frustrates me! You know what I mean, babes? Anyways, they say to me, “You’re bloody 16 years old, you’ve fucked up school, you’ve fucked up your body, your future, and you’re a nuissannce (however you spell that bloody word). You’re almost 17 now and we want you out!” So I told them to go fuck themselves and then I went to the council to apply for a flat, but the fuckers have me in the lowest rank on the ladder because, “my circumstances are not severe enough and they have others to accommodate whose cases demand immediate attention”. Now I am waiting, but what could have taken three years will not take me less than nine months – that business GCSE course really paid off, eh, somewhat. I was told by Sandra that a pregnant woman gets put up to the second highest, and a single mother to the highest with a minimum of two months wait and a maximum of four. What glory! Finally I can move out of this hell, and into a life of paradise, of ‘livin’ la vida loca’ baby! Woo! LOL <3. Man, I can’t wait; they’ll practically pay for everything — even booze money! God Bless England! I’d live nowhere else – I’d worship our coins like they were Gods.

This kid that is coming, I hope it’s a boy, I want a son, gonna raise me a man, it’s been a while since I’ve seen one of these endangered species. That, and of course I can just let him loose to do what he wants without worrying too much – girls need a little more care and attention, and I can’t be bothered to be honest; I’d rather be buzzin’ [stoned/high]! Woo! LOL!

Anyways, enough about me and my life story, tell me about your adventures and that new dark haired Greek boy of yours; he’s gorgeous! Have you fucked him yet!? What happened with Tyrel, have you dumped him yet? I miss you babes, I want my Charly-boo back! I still think about that threesome we had with that guy; man, how did he do that? It was impressive; I’ve been having dreams about it – his cock was sooo big! Anyways, I gotta go babes, there’s so much to do; I can’t wait till you next come down. We’ll have a blast!

Love,

Janine   xoxoxo <3<3<3

P.S.: Behave yourself! In fact, fuck that, don’t behave, have a blast! Make the roof on fire, ‘coz we don’t want no water, let the motherfucker burn! LOL! <3

Her file was superfluous, I could tell from a glance that she embraced the wilderness with her age – an interesting specimen indeed. I heard sounds in the background and decided to flee with great haste, lest I book a first class, premature ticket to hell resort! I snapped the dossier shut and proceeded out, never looking back. What I saw was enough, and the other documents, that were in the hundreds if not thousands, couldn’t have been much better; a gut feeling told me I had picked out one of the milder ones. Sweet wilderness: rewarding and chaotic; Monsieur Devil’s cold and seductive meme. I felt like I entered Nietzsche’s pre-historic predictions, only they had entered the chronological realm of the contemporary – we moulded each other - myself, time and history became one once again; what’s known by Biologists as devolution. One can expect such effects from the exponential rise in population, and fall of economy, and with an icing on the cake move, the rise of the virtual era – resulting in the demand for redundancy. This era will ask a question, in fact it has already done the asking and waiting for the response; a response that will be a choice in the form of anarchy or ‘natural disaster’. How do we, after all, nourish an unquenchable thirst, an infinite greed? These thoughts weighed me down, and have been weighing me so ever since, I look to the future in anticipation and with humility – balance is inescapable.               

Eighteen, what a sad and tender age; hormonal, ignorant, ambitious and full of vivacity. I remember an event that was so fruitful to my ignorance and knowledge, that in retrospect I couldn’t believe how paradoxical it was and how faulty my conception of the whole scenario at the time was. Here’s what happened.

I was sitting in my car, parked near my college and fourty-five minutes left before my last exam for A-levels. I remember a teacher back in secondary school once remarked to me the importance of carbohydrates as energy before an exam, and also how great a banana is too for the health of one’s brain. Consequently and without hesitation, how can one hesitate advice from an elder at the age of fifteen, I was enjoying some shortbread doing some last-second revision before an exam when I stopped and was just enchanted by the surroundings. The parking lot had found itself adjacent to a rather turbulent and quasi-congested A-road (A-roads are mini motorways for those of you who’ve never heard of them). In front of me was a mini stream with minimal life and plantation, but the little green somehow always stood out amongst the cars and tarmac that infected the environment with its dark greyness and inevitable multi-pollution. The place where I had parked however, was somewhat different, the road was not tarmacked and no concrete lay beneath the wheels of my car, making the place feel somewhat rural and always reminded me of the countryside, my home, back in Southern Europe. This lack of concrete attracted more and more life, more birds of all sorts would search for food and feel welcomed to these regions and conditions than the tarmac, which was just a few feet away, and with probably more rubbish from which to indulge for food.

The sight that held my gaze for a good twenty minutes, and slowly took away a good half of the last minutes of revision time, was a triad of magpies all huddled up in an almost perfect circle looking for food. Magpies are very soothing to one’s gaze: a beautiful pattern of black and white in its feathers, its belly white, it’s rear and wings (when folded) are black and it’s long tail follows it so gallantly, reminds me of the formal dressing of men in suits; emanating pride and comfort. This picture took me and it reminded me of the entirety of my last years or so, their search for food made me ponder on my recent search for knowledge and purpose.

This retrospective thought coupled with the vision of this triad of magpies became everything present to me, and my awareness was devoted entirely to this moment, like a mother is devoted to her baby child; for a good ten minutes I forgot all else. Then I felt a tugging from within towards an action, the thought to follow made it clear beyond dispute; I was pushed to feeding them. I broke a bit of shortbread that I had in my hand into a few pieces and threw it with some intensity towards the triad; two of them jumped back, and the third barely flinched. With a vast ‘hmm’, in my head thinking that they jumped back because they were expecting a stone to leave my hand. I then decided to throw another piece in their direction, but this time harder. The two that previously jumped back now flew away, and the one that barely flinched stopped at its tracks and looked intently in my direction. From its stare I received a feeling of strength and suspicion, but at the same time pride. It wasn’t afraid of me, or at what I was throwing at it - it’s as if it didn’t care what I threw at it, it was not going to flee.

At that precise moment something hit me, I felt a realization descend on me. That past year or so I was immersed in the wisdom of success, reading books such as ‘Think and Grow Rich’, ‘Radical Honesty’ and many other similar ones based on personal success and development. From all of them in the end I realized one continuing concept that’s captured by a single word: perseverance. Perseverance brings with it other powerful words such as confidence, courage and commitment to name but a few. All these words, and specifically courage, were made apparent to me by this magpie’s actions. It didn’t flee, it was not afraid, and it was as if nature herself were speaking to me with a language she knew only too well. She was trying to tell me that only those who are not afraid get bread, only those who challenge death itself, those who penetrate their fears, will get fed: only the magpie that doesn’t run scared when the world threatens to throw a stone at it will get the rewards.

I was astounded, that whole year prior to the event I had spent in contemplation and buried in the works of success, only to find them summarized in a time window of less than ten minutes, by nature’s cruel means of communication, by her silence that speaks the sort of words that books can only grasp an infinitely small proportion of. I was reaffirmed by nature’s indifference and yet this very indifference of hers appeared so gentle and endearing to me in view of this event; I felt touched by her bosom. What irony that the very wisdom we lack is right here in front of us at all times just waiting to be disclosed, yearning for an observer with an unequaled sharp eye. Sometimes all we need to do is look in silence and allow nature to speak to us the only way she can, with an appearance, with actions. How ironic that the ways of our social world, our humanitas, are so closely bound with the ways of nature; are we really so distinct from animals, or are we just that and nothing more? The very thought of it makes me tremble in fear; at having to question our distinctness, our non-animosity. At the same time though it causes me unusual relief to know that our ways can be found in the ways of the world, for if we ever need guidance and direction, nature, that sweet, loving and indifferent mother is always there to hear our pleas and calls.

Here’s the cold unusual truth. I bet you’re wondering, where is this faulty conception that’s supposed to be paradoxical? The simple and quick answer is the whole thing. In retrospect, I would have never interpreted the event the way I did unless I spent the previous year thinking about certain related topics, reading certain books. If I spoke to somebody about this event and did not add my history leading up to this event, the outlook of the whole event would have been entirely different; showing pure subjectivity. In truth, someone may say: who cares about how a bird reacts towards food being thrown at it, or even someone who’s a little more scientific will say that the bird lacks the necessary cognitive/physical associations for survival and could possibly die. Others may say indeed that’s a brave bird and nothing more would leave their mouths, or others may argue that I was wasting bread unnecessarily - even polluting our streets/parking lots.

The importance of history in the interpretation of a state of affairs is, I hope, more than evident in this event. Can we extend this notion however, can we do what Nietzsche tried to do but hopefully in a more productive and ‘good’ way. History is important, without my history that whole scenario would have been arbitrary to me, entirely so. Without my past, my perspective, what would have been the difference between one interpretation and the next, of that particular phenomenon? I wonder, I really do, how we can safely say that one way of interpreting a state of affairs about nature can be more ‘truthful’ than another; I believe it’s not a matter of truth, but a matter of persuasion, a matter of compulsion - and how fickle is compulsion? It would seem then, the best way is history, the tracing of precedent events may perhaps offer a more strong contemplation of a current event - maybe Nietzsche was onto something with his method, his labour, regardless of the fruits of that labour.