Archive for January, 2008

My mind is still whirling. Anxiety levels increased. A threshold higher, not quite sure where it may rest so spins in alternate directions, swishing from side to side. Uncertain. Afraid. Do I? Don’t I? Alone. Excited. Terror. Calm. Disturbed. Disruption. I’m in some sort of labyrinth, lost and lacking the knowledge in navigating this maze. Giving rise to this uneasy feeling, creeping into the skin, crawling with indecisiveness and ignorance. Two Options. Rent or buy. Two simple but so very hard choices.

My heart wants to buy. My head wants to postpone for a little while yet, another year, perhaps two so I’ll be more reassured. In what way I’m not so sure about, perhaps with a little more down payment added  for peace of mind. Maybe. Home loans seem like a nightmare, one that I’d much sooner rather avoid than have to face in what is essentially blind fumbling. I have absolutely no idea about how all the options work and what they mean.

Crunch time! Now is as good a time as any. Really this is what it boils down to and is ten or twenty grand going to make that much more of a difference? Other questions; am I prepared for the long haul of repayment after repayment with what will invariably seem like no end in sight? The idea of twenty years, twenty five or even thirty seems like an eternity filled with a lot of uncertainty, it’s almost inconceivable. Perhaps it is a calling to end my infatuation with the finite, the absolute and what are sure things because it is not what, ultimately, reality is based upon. Random shift, chaotic meanderings and accidental merging are the stuff of progression. Stillness is perhaps cause for stagnation and decay, rather than stability and assurance.

Time. Both enemy and ally. I have some left, slowly and surely it is passing and indecisiveness will result in it being lost in some regretful way.

Decisions. Decisions. Perhaps it has already been made and I just need a moment for it to catch onto the grey goo floating amongst the frontal lobes of my weary head.

Looks like it may be the end times for this place of residence. The owner has decided to sell and as a consequence I’m living in some limbo land…how I hate renting. One is never truly sure when the landlord will turf you out. I wish now that I didn’t spend so much over the last year, I might be in a better position to buy, although if I asked the banks I’m sure they’ll be more than too happy to loan me a couple of hundred grand. But is that what I really want? It seems like a heavy commitment, one which I’m averse to for some reason. I want somewhere I can secure myself in without worrying about when I’ll have to leave or when real estate leeches will come to have a sticky beak but at the same time I don’t want to be tied down to something for twenty years. Well nothing is certain or absolute, instead of real estate agents it’ll be banks so the only real advantage to having a mortgage is the false sense of security that it buys.

I worry perhaps a little too much, for all I know it’ll sell and the new owner will have a ready made tenant. At worst…I have to find a new place to live. My laziness screams and squirms at the prospect of having to pack up shop. Outrage! “How dare they sell our home!” it screams into the empty caverns of a lonesome void.

Every time I think of the prospect of having to move I’m filled with a sense of dread and anger. It’s just too melodramatic and in the end it’s just tough shit! Get over it. “But Ma I don’t want to leave.” “Stop it…you’re just gonna have to whether you like it or not!” “Awww Maaa…Maaa. Ma!”

But then again this place is a dump and I must be crazy for staying this long.

Just can’t win can I?

</ end rant>

While Trent Reznor frets over the 18 odd percentile range that have chosen to pay the token sum of $5 for Saul Williams’ album The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust, I am more concerned by Rezzo’s so called disheartenment. From www.nin.com Reznor writes:

If that assumption is correct – that most of the people that chose to download Saul’s record came from his or my own fan-base – is it good news that less than one in five feel it was worth $5? I’m not sure what I was expecting but that percentage – primarily from fans – seems disheartening.

As Rezzo anguishes over his future, free from the shackles of Evil Entertainment Moguls and how best to make a buck from his art, the numbers on Saul’s effort seem to add up, to put it into perspective his last CD to date has sold 33000 copies and paid downloads from his new album equate to similar figures. 28322 paid for the download: 28322*5 = $141610 . It sounds like an ok effort to me.

150 thousand have downloaded the album and to be fair the return rate isn’t that crash hot but the figures could be a little skewed. Presumably the largest fan base would have come from Trent’s own and may have distorted the downloads by NIN fans just downloading the free version out of interest (like I did) and once sampling the sound have not been in favour of paying. Although the music isn’t entirely to my taste it was worth the asking price, if only to support the cause, essentially why I decided to contribute my 5 bucks. Surely Rezzo can see the bias in the numbers and for initial experimentation it has to be seen as a semi success. What if the numbers grew? What if 1 million downloads occurred? 0.18*1000000*5 = $900000

If the quest is to impede or put an end to piracy then it WILL fail. What if 18 percent is the be all and end all of mass produced music? Will 18 percent be cast in stone as a unmovable mass? Can it be shifted allowing it to roll and gain momentum? So far it has potential energy and if singular entities and individuals cannot budge the moral compass then perhaps groups of artists can. What if they aligned themselves and teamed up as a force. Without an industry to back their marketing needs, new models and alliances will perhaps need to emerge. There is positively endless possibilities when untied and free to create. What people spend their dollars on is what they see offers them value, tapping into that value is where the battle will be won and fought.

The second day of the new year…well day 2 of the new working year and it comes as no surprise that an old cumbersome woe is beginning to rise. The chains of serfdom have entangled my ankles and are slowly wrapping their links up around my calves. Welcome once again to the nightmare! The taste of freedom….the flight of time that is one’s own slowly drowning in the bitter after-taste of reality.  Yesterday, as reality slapped frigid on my cheeks, my eyes drooped, heavy with a burden of eternity. The new year is supposed to symbolise rebirth yet for me it resembles another cycle of decay. Another year shackled to sameness, an unrelenting ground hog repetition, enslaved to time that seems controlled by a master who remains hidden and faceless. Try as I might, even attempting to deceive truth by pretending that the sunshine shines brightest at dawn, I still cannot escape the wrath of the absurd. The only thing arriving early to the glaring menace of a long day provides is a tremendous weariness that no amount of coffee can shake.

Meh! A positive outlook…the right frame of mind…all good. But! I still have to work! Working for the machine….and I don’t know why. Freedom awaits the brave, courageous soul who can let go of possessions. Who can abandon the material realm and walk to and fro without knee bent, head down low, bowing unto the great overlord, the machine.

Perhaps I should join a monastery, become a spiritual slave. Nah! Fancy being a slave to nothing and waking up at half four in the night to pay homage to it. No escape! There must be a way to go back to sleep and enjoy the dreaminess of illusion without having to be slapped awake by the absurd.

Maybe the problem is expectation. The expectation of freedom. Is a human being even able to be free?  Maybe freedom is just another word for choice and isn’t this Western-Americanised system ideal in delivering the shot of choice into the mainline of throbbing, hungry freedom ventricles pouting like a whores lips eager to devour the engorged McHappy meal of “our” ideals and desires?

Well…like a good slave I can ponder it in the morn as the sun begins to shine and my alarm clock shocks me into 10057. Top of the morning to ya. Have a good day.