Sunday, July 22, 2007

I get hogtied in self-examination. You can definitely do that too much. But then I feel as tho I've let alot of people down, including myself. So now what, do I just write more poems? I mean I'm sitting here and I have a life. You're sitting there, and you have a life. But the thought tends to go something more like, "I'm sitting here, and you're over there working." I think work is important but I can never quite trust it. Last night I watched Manufacturing Consent again, and Chomsky said something like, "I just don't think people should have to rent themselves out in order to live." And then of course the response is always, "Ha ha, well yes Mr. Chomsky but you are a little naive about the world." Tom Wolfe in his fucking dandy suit endlessly placing everything in an imaginary context, and then still having the nerve to call what someone like Chomsky says 'patent nonsense'. So what is work? And where is this all going? And why do I feel like Sarah Jessica Parker, posting questions on my blog? I suppose I am naive. My left arm hurts.


David J. said...

France is having this fight with itself right now! France has a government mandated 35 hour workweek, and Sarkozy and his ministers are saying that there is a national "French Laziness." One minister said as much as "the French think too much. We need to be Doers." That's paraphrasing, but France can't seem to decide whether their national character is also in their economic interest. You can read about the whole fracas in today's NYTimes, just search for "French" and "Pensive."

Personally, I think this ignores the fact that French are the most productive workers in the world, precisely because their life is not dominated by work and the accompanying stress.

I'm offering no solutions to your musings here, just psuedo-intellectual commentary as always.

Au Revoir!

Mike H said...

I think France is the place for me, as long I don't end up stomping grapes at Chateau Maison!