Sunday, June 17, 2007

Beautiful Basil

Here we go again. It's 1am, I'm drunk out of my ass on good wine and 2 shots of expensive tequila (which is totally worth the money by the way, because it's got a very limited hangover), home, lamenting and stewing in a moshpit of memories and regrets.

Forsooth, there should be a comma between the eponymous 'Beautiful' and the eponymous 'Basil', because it's not a commentary on how attractive I am (as true as the case may be), but a sarcasm-laced verdict of how I've handled...oh, I don't know, the last ten years of my life? I'd say that's a fair estimate of how long I've fucked up and been in a state of fucked-up-edness.

Drinking and blogging. Why is it so attractive to me? I can't bear to read these entries in the morning and yet I can't get myself to delete them, as embarrassed as I maybe because I cling on to this belief that everything I write when I'm like this might be useful to me, years from now when I'm beyond cringing at my hapless attempts at acquiring some kind of life.

My biggest regret...well, right now, it's the cancellation of Carnivale, because I just saw the second season on DVD and it's quite brilliantly original. I suggest you all rent/ buy/ forage/ steal the boxset and spend a weekend watching it. Don't watch it with someone you love (because it's not happy) and don't wach it with someone you think is an idiot (because chances are you're right and they won't have the patience for it).

My biggest regret, in things that matter, is that I allowed myself to get this bitter.

Sure, there are reasons for it, good ones I guess. Vulnerability mixed with rage mixed with disappointment...the usual bullshit that life's so adept at throwing at you. But it's a faustian arrangement, allowing yourself to follow the anger, stirring it rather than putting it out and moving on. You think you're justified in your anger and you probably are but that's not the point. The point is the anger doesn't help you, it hurts you. Sure, maybe in the short term, it fools you into thinking you're stronger than whatever it is that's battering at your brain, but long-term? It's been invited into your soul and now you don't know how to live without it.

Even with the insomnia and the mania and the depression. Can't let go. Or won't.

Speaking of depression, I'm developing a fixation on the depression: the dustbowl era of the United States, Grapes of Wrath, O Brother, Where Art Thou? and, of course, Carnivale. I love that combination of hopelessness and mysticism and desperation. It's a real inspiration not to get too...well, depressed.

Beautiful, Basil. Just beautiful.


Anonymous zoss said...

Beautiful, Basil. Just beautiful. The post, I mean. Particularly the "following the anger" bit, which is generalizable to most negative emotions... Just a great lesson to those who would listen.

These entries remind me of Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf, which I'm sure you've read -- if you haven't, drop everything and do it, right now!

3:12 AM  
Blogger Daysleeper said...

chocolate helps.

7:40 AM  
Blogger Basil Fawlty said...

Zoss: Long time..where do you vanish to? I read Steppenwolf a few years ago and was pleasantly surprised (because I couldn't endure Siddharta). Well, pleasantly might be the wrong word considering its theme, but I remember thinking Haller's split made perfect sense to anyone who couldn't match (or even felt the need to match) the inner with the outer. I also remember thinking Hermine was a bit of a cock tease.

Daysleeper: I ate two lion bars last night. Chocolate doesn't hurt but it doesn't help me either.

3:02 PM  
Blogger Forsoothsayer said...

you'd want to read some faulkner. generally, i love books about the american south. they do good desperation.

we don't mind if u drink and blog. bel3aks, u should congratulate urself that you are so coherent and eleoquent at these times. tell yourself it's cos your brain is logical way down :)

3:17 PM  
Blogger Basil Fawlty said...

I've wanted to try and read some of Faulkner's stuff but he has a reputation for being a difficult read. Maybe I'll give him a try.

I really recommend Carson McCullers' The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter, a true Southern masterpiece. Despite it belonging to the Oprah Book Club, it's a great example of southern fiction that combines heartfelt sentiment with cutting social commentary.

5:21 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home