Tag Archives: existentialism

How to Piss Off Bureaucrats — Trolling the Man, Man

8 Oct

trolling the government

The next time you need to fill out a government form that asks you to…

List Your Occupation

Aggrandize whatever you do shamelessly. For instance…

If you’re in marketing, say Consumer Behavior Expert & Acquisition Strategist at Google (always say Google).

If you’re a graphic designer, say Artist–and make sure to capitalize the ungrammatical ‘A.’

If you’re Prime Minister of Liechtenstein, say Senior Director of Tax Evasion.

Declare Educational Attainment

No, thanks.

State Income

Yes, please.

Declare Languages You Speak

For each language that you can say “hello” in state that you have conversational proficiency. If you can say more than two words, declare fluency. Capeche? (See, I speak French.)

Declare Race or Ethnicity

Write, “Well, I’m not racist, but…” Then say something nasty about the Dutch because they deserve it. They live under sea level and walk around in wooden shoes. Damn those tulip-sniffing oil painters.

State Sex

Cross out both. Draw a new box beside “male” and write “The Man.” Check it. Beside the crossed out female box, write, “Bitches love me.” Then draw a new box. Check it. Do this even if you’re a woman.

State Religion


State Your Political Orientation

Hegalian-Neitzchean with a Kantian view of morality while accepting certain tenets of Marx; that is, the synthesis of communism from capitalism, but instead attributing this synthesis to the idea realizing itself into fruition rather than through material dialectic while also asserting that communism is not the end of history, but merely another thesis to which its corresponding antithesis is unknown; thus, the future cannot be said to be known through dialectic– dialectic is the means to knowing–hence, the future cannot be known; nothing cannot be known; therefore, knowing is existence. As the past is nonexistent and the present is illusory, the future must then be existence, which is nothing; therefore, nothing exists. Yet “Cogito Ergo Sum” — I must exist. It is through my own consciousness that I will myself into being; but being without purpose defies the purpose of being, that is, willing; hence, I must will a purpose, a morality–or a “categorical imperative” — onto reality. This is my will to power. This will draws out the future which is existence. Yes, we can. Yes, we can.

Travelling Man

13 Aug
Paul Strand Wall Street (1915)

Wall Street (1915) – Paul Strand

A city buzzing with quiet desperation, creaking under the weight of its hopes and desires, regrets and complaints…

That old man barking at the young barista fumbling his order was once that young man walking briskly down the street to an interview for a job that he will grow to hate and grow old in and grow to look forward to small reprieves like coffee in the morning.

That young lady serving coffee to a barking old man while an old lady crosses the street, struggling with her groceries, which smash to the ground as a young man bumps into her, and moves on without noticing–he is already running late and can spare no more time.

That old lady returning to her apartment, fed up with the cold shoulders she has known all her life, from her days serving growling old men their coffee to her twilight years accosted by self-centered upstarts with no time for anyone but themselves.

A thousand threads weave together in the same frail cloth, here gently rolling in August’s whispering breeze, there fraying against November’s serrated winds.

“Sir? Excuse me? Sir! Hello! Watch out! Pay attention to the road! You’re supposed to be driving this bus! Goddammit! Watch out!”
“What? Oh yes! Shit. Okay. Okay. It’s alright. Just take a seat.”
“Take a seat?! You pay attention!”
“Okay, just take a seat. I got this.”

[The bus driver narrowly misses driving onto the sidewalk and into a building. The passenger sits down rigidly, still anxious. The bus continues down its route. It begins to rain.]

But sometimes raindrops do not fall into puddles,

ripples in ripples,

spreading out

fading into

streetlit reflections

broken by the footsteps of people


making plans to go,

never going

where rain drops never fell.

[Two young women sit next to each other near the front of the bus.]

“First he nearly drives full speed into a wall and now he’s driving like a turtle on Vicodin!”
“I know. This is ridiculous. We’re going to be late for the party. I hate being late.”

[The bus driver overhears this, takes heed and speeds up–now driving faster and faster…]

When wind scrapes clouds into white smearing blue skies
I hear summer behind horizons marred by buildings
smoking in cold air as though people huddled around a fire
searching for reprieve in flames dancing burlesque
at some great party where guests drink warmth
as a soft breeze skates a marble ocean massaged
by moonlight whispering reflections into wandering eyes.

“Hey pal! You need to slow down–you just missed a stop with a guy waiting at it!”
“What? Oh. Crap. Alright. Hold on, I’m going to reverse a little bit and stop to let him on.”

[The man at the bus stop doesn’t notice the bus. He is looking in the opposite direction at oncoming traffic and the sky.]

Small gusts sweep velvet grey
into cotton wisps

sailing away from themselves

up to the sun
that they hide from

cars swooshing down four lanes

ugly and stupid like salmon
rushing upstream,

says the guy at a bus stop.

[The bus driver honks. The man snaps from his musings, walks up to the bus and steps on. He and the bus driver nod at each other. The bus drives off…into a median and explodes.]

Wayback Playback Into Existential Crisis

5 Jul

The Existential Crisis of Jennifer_Lopez_people_magazine


Jennifer Lopez (JL) and INTERVIEWER sit facing one another, each at a one quarter turn from the audience.

Interviewer: So, are you still Jenny from the block?
JL: Yes.
Interviewer: No, but really.
JL: Yes, for sure!
Interviewer: I don’t believe you.
JL: I’m still the same person.
Interviewer: And I still don’t believe you.
JL: Are you serious?
Interviewer: Why wouldn’t I be?
JL: For real?
Interviewer: You’re not still Jenny from the block. Just aren’t.
JL: Okay,this is ridiculous. Who am I then? If I’m not Jennifer, who am I?!
Interview: You’re a giant beetle.
JL: What!? No, I’m no…

JL looks at herself. She is a six-legged arthropod with a shiny black carapace covering her wings. She is indeed a beetle.


Franz-Kafka,-etching(author-Jan-Hladík-1978) Existential Crisis of the Metamorphosis

(For hackneyed seo purposes: Existential Crisis)

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