(The is the unedited essay as it should have appeared on dumblittleman.com)
Pretentious title, but far from a call to adopt a stance of apathy within this wondrous and dynamic reality we exist together in.
Fuck no, quite the opposite.
The insight I’d like to share with you today is the equivalent of an open-handed, movie-cliche slap to the face, regretfully but lovingly administered to pull a panicked comrade back from the brink of a full-blown meltdown catalyzed by a collapse of rational, critical thinking.
In the spirit of whoring myself out to the public for blog notoriety and book sales, I recently wrote a post that was accepted and published by a trendy, self-help website.
The only problem is they left my primo material on the cutting room floor.
Well, that’s not entirely true, but the edits they made, to remove my “colourful” language, twisted a few of the lines into ineffectual, impotent, or just plain confusing blather that was not representative of my well-crafted genius. (throw a note about my modesty in there somewhere, too)
If they had simply communicated a non-profanity policy on their site, or gave me the chance to edit the piece myself after discussing the matter, I could easily have accommodated. But that wasn’t the case. In fairness, they did have a disclaimer about making edits without approval from the writer, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have been given the opportunity tweak my intellectual property, especially when my name is forever attached to it.
Foul language is not a necessity in my literary explorations, I just happen to really fucking enjoy it. There are many posts here that do not contain “subversive” language. Look hard enough, you’ll find ’em…
I did not come across any legal mumbo-jumbo on their site forbidding the reprinting of the piece on BonerFruit, so somewhere down the road, I’ll repost it in full-glory, proper imagery and all.
I fucking hate censorship. Especially when my “douchebag” and “dickweed” references are essential parts of a message…
Well, maybe not essential, but a lot of fucking fun.
BonerFruit will find the right venue for guest posting somewhere down the road, but for now, we’ll continue our explorations here without worrying what the “man” has to say about it.
El Mirador Volume 3 is coming up soon. Right now, I’m enjoying a little book-writing time in Palenque, Mexico, and planning transportation back to the ocean — a bus to Playa del Carmel, and then a connection to a little fishing village, Puerto Morelos, in hopes of avoiding the hardcore touristy areas while I soak my body in salty water.
The new book is still lacking a few chapters, but is by far the most ambitious and fucked up work I’ve produced to date.
I did get some reader feedback from early-released chapters, so let me share those with you now…
Did I mention my love of whorish self-promotion? Oh yeah, right…
A Creative Guide to Living and Dying
“Enlightening, entertaining, educational, and outraging — this book has it all. I’d recommend it to all my friends, but the artwork makes me wanna puke.”
— M. Ciupka, Fingerpainter
“I hated this guy’s first two books, but now I just hate myself for buying the third one.” — M. Ciupka, Sucker for Amazon Deals
“My wife slowed down to get a closer look at an accident on the highway, and I thought to myself: I wish I was in that stretcher instead of reading Original Sin.” — M. Ciupka, Divorced
“Reading Original Sin has made me envious of the blind.” — M. Ciupka, Stevie Wonder Wannabe
“When I think of originality, I think of Mozart. When I think of Original Sin, I think cutting my wrists.” — M. Ciupka, Impressionable Reader
“The perfect stocking stuffer! Especially if your socks are destined for the landfill.”
— M. Ciupka, Holiday Enthusiast
“If you liked Conversations with God, you won’t like this.”
—Neil Diamond Walsh
“There’s a reason I created Hell — so you would know repercussions of bad decisions, like purchasing this book.”
“I tried to read it, but it was too big.”
“Read or do not read. There is no try.”
“I like this kid, he’s good. Buy his new book. I would never lead you astray.”
“The shallow depth is ever near, As lightning darkens sound, Metal shakes the rusted smile, A petal soft and round.”
— Nostradamus, Incomprehensible Nut-job
It’s a bit crummy outside, so let’s take a brief intermission from adventure to talk tales of destiny and fate.
The concept of having your entire life predetermined by a higher entity never made much sense to me. If existence were fated, there’d be no purpose in playing this game. Decision making would be the pointless exercise of imagining irrelevant details to add a touch of a colour to a completed tome carved in stone.
People love commenting on the intentions of the Universe. When outcomes match expectation, results are clearly “meant to be.” When objectives end in failure, consolations of “it wasn’t meant to be” help ease the pain.
Both sentiments are worthless. We only consider them after events have transpired, in full witness of the existential results. Hindsight will always make the distinction between what was or wasn’t “meant” to be — it either happened or it didn’t. The technique is oft used by people to disconnect failure or absolve personal responsibility — a slightly different take on the equally worthless “it is what it is” statement. Yeah, no shit, what else could it be?
Just a quick shout out to new and old subscribers — Daily Bread has always been served with a side of butter. Click on the image you receive in your inbox, or click on the button at the Bonerfruit site. It won’t guarantee a more palatable meal, but it’s done wonders to ease queasiness after digesting some of the baking done here.
If you’re big on the Gregorian calendar, you’re probably aware another new year is almost upon us. This is typically a time when people take pause to consider making changes in their lives, like quitting smoking, eating healthier, dropping a few pounds, or giving up German shizer films. Why these things can’t be accomplished any other time of year, I’m unsure, but I suppose the mark of a new beginning brings with it new inspiration, no matter how short-lived the stirrings often turn out to be.
Instead of focusing on the changes we need to make in our lives, highlighting our weaknesses and shortcomings, perhaps this time would be better spent reflecting just how far we’ve come the last 365. Though the years may seem to start blurring together and racing by the older we get, I’m fairly sure each and every one of us can pick out several accomplishments in recent past to be proud of. It’s definitely more encouraging to give ourselves a pat on the back for the minor victories we’ve claimed than begin a new calendar date imposing the guilt and pressures of a rigid lifestyle ruleset we’re probably ill-equipped for.
The Earth is pretty wild place. Even on the most mundane of adventures, say a trip to the corner store, there’s a good chance you’ll come across a scenario rife with outlandish, freaky, or unexpected twists.
Consider the novelty in this world. Think of all the strange and wonderful things you’ve seen and done since your first sip of mother’s milk. Consider all the projects still on your to-do list, and all the imagined situations you’ll likely never get to experience first-hand because, well, there just ain’t enough time in the day. While you’re at it, add to your considerations the things you haven’t even heard about – the wonders that have never blipped on your radar because they exist beyond the fringe of the Associated Press app on your smartphone.
There’s one hell of an experiential buffet out there to feast from.
I’m not sure how Christmas ever felt complete without a dish of vegan kitty litter cake sitting to the left of a roasted bird. This should rightfully be labeled Phase 1 of the project, but I feel more satisfied labeling it Movement Number 2. The purging of my culinary stupidity was nonetheless successful.
Considerations are still in place to add cacao nibs for some always appreciated junky turd texture.
I’m undecided whether eating these sweet droppings was more enjoyable than observing the look of disgust on my mother’s face while doing so.
Next phase is building the cake.
I’ll put the full recipe together for you once it’s run its course…
I planned on incorporating a few more bowel movement jokes in this mini-post, but they were shitty.