Artaud

There is a song by a lovely little band by the name of Okkervil River that mentions the handsome devil above. In this little tune they discuss someone who has wealth, lots of wealth, and then they bemoan the fact that isn't it a pity that life gave the person shit else. A know or have known a couple of people so afflicted. They have wealth and fuck all else. No talent, no grace, no intellect, and very little class. Yet, these people are, in many respects, better off than me. All because their mother had the foresight to screw someone with money. It seems that the wolf that raised me has even more crimes to answer for than I originally thought. I mean would have really made that much difference to hold out giving it up till a rich fellow staggered along? Apparently that was too much to ask. Not that I am overloaded with talent, grace, or class, but really you can clearly see that these people have NO other saving grace(s). Sad in some ways, very frustrating in other ways. Mommy and Daddy's money can buy just about anything. Heaven forbid if junior gets into trouble with the law, or does something eye watering stupid at work. Money can fix that no worries, to whom do I make the check payable to? These little "acts" are worthy of being included in Artuad's Theatre of Cruelty, though not quite in the way he intended it. Of course, in some respects these people are a victim of their own parent's success. What should they do? Refrain from getting that private school education in order to rub elbows with us public school plebs? Being a man of the people is all well and good as long as you can afford to keep the people at a safe distance. I suppose we should not begrudge them the "luck of the draw," or the "accident of birth" that made them have a gold plated childhood. The true crime is the ones that waste it. Though in my limited experience I have come to the conclusion that all our parents fuck us up in one way or the other, and rich kids parents can just afford to fuck their kids up on a grander scale. May they feel the need to atone for being rich by making their kids lives so very "easy." Who knows, and at the end of the day I can not fathom why I cared enough to write a post about it. Other that the fact that it gives me something to post about. I feel some sort of renewed vigour to post now days. Not that I think I have gotten much better at it, but their is one theory that does state practice makes perfect. Maybe if I keep pecking away I will achieve something in the general vicinity of decent product. Perfection always needs to remain a goal, if it isn't then why bother trying after you achieve it? Sort of the ending on a high note theory of George Costanza. Always leave them wanting more, and make sure you do not bury you shining moment under a mountain of gaffes, mistakes, and down right blunders. The irony of this post is that my previous post celebrated, in my own limited way, my "talent" and here I am writing one of the most unfocused, meandering, pointless posts I have every managed to write. Guess I am saving everyone the trouble, and writing my own comeuppance.