Monday, April 28, 2014


Some fucker, the distribution of whose intuitive application of top-down and bottom-up tactics are, like a driver who happens one morning to hit every red light on a street crossed by numerous and frequent intersections, so completely misaligned according to their optimal fitness for the different facets of his existence -- like one who, in the facet of partnership, rather than reacting to personal, interactive, physical action, physical attraction, complementation, and other immediate tangible, but irresistible implications whose ends precede socially concocted conglomerate concepts with labels like relationship, instead begins with a personal disposition, positive or negative, toward this culturally historical pre-packaged notion relationship (likely confused, in addition to the misalignment issue being discussed here, in part by the fact that, as with all facets, this strategy would actually be the optimal tactic for some people), typically arriving at a stage where, looking back, their past can best be demarcated and consequently defined in terms of a sequence of relationships, rather than by different aspects of their total self which includes those relationships but is not dominated by them; or like the artists who, contrary to their unsuitability for grasping the industry of art, nonetheless see work studio, exhibition space, and particular people, activities and lifestyle as equals to the components ‘creating’ and ‘physical creations’ in the bundle through which they then work toward specifics and will less likely reach an individual form of expression and competent execution than if they had seen their goal as creating something, rather than making something that is like ‘art’; or conversely, as, in an example of a, what would be for some people misguidedly applied, bottom up strategy, those people unconscious of a more complex, if only intuitive, notion of existence see goals inductively in arbitrary or loosely interdependent phenomena encountered or imagined in their personal lives, and find themselves in older age scrambling to acquire a notion of their purpose, however modest -- again, so completely misaligned that his life's components are disjointed, in near complete disharmony and, though some form of it must exist since he does, are without an identifiable form of orchestration, a condition which, since the life/existential facets are roughly those common to most people in description and label, entails that the most immediate, and considering the extent to which social interaction operates through instinct rather than rationally or under the influence of sympathy, the most common route for perceiving his character, absent a broader functional analysis like the one I'm building here, which is tentative and unverifiable anyway since this fucker is fictional and the criteria used is pulled from my ass, will be either a basic-common-factor perception or cumulative-sum description of observations in the absence of obvious frameworks for explanation, so that -- like the sound of a language whose phoneme inventory is identical to that of another language but, due to different phonological rules, phoneme combinations & restrictions, syllable structure, and such typical properties of language, whose output speech realization is completely unfamiliar to the latter -- his practice of the same cultural facets and similar goals & desires as those of most people lead to a unanimous assessment of the disharmony arising through his principle- or concept-misfortunes or their inept application strategies as perplexing, discordant, untranslatable, unsocial, sometimes dumb or criminal; a fucker whose only potential but, as this passage will suggest straightaway, unrealized inherent source of mitigation for his state as depicted thus far might have been the typically desirable wide spacing apart of the eyes, a random and I think largely universal development in the evolution of physical attraction and leadership-perception whose unit of measure works like the 'highest bid wins up to a limit, after which you lose' system of The Price is Right in that a step beyond a certain person-specific distance of eye separation can suddenly render the face less appealing or command less respect than a spacing far smaller than the ideal-- in any case such spacing seems for this fucker near the ideal without crossing that limit, though unfortunately does little to offset the familiar unsympathetic perception, the natural primitive social and individual non-rational uncomplicated assessment of his bundle of features, expressions, actions as fictionally depicted above, ultimately deriving from my equally fictional proposition of an anomalously thorough misapplication of a largely intuitive cross-domain socio-existential strategy-function illustrated yet farther above