I don’t buy that clean break bullshit, man. That’s for squares with lobotomized emotions and hearts stuffed with excelsior. No, the good stuff, the real fallout? That’s a compound fracture, a jagged mess of splintered bone and raw nerve. It throbs with a dull ache that creeps into your dreams, a constant reminder of the impact, the sickening crunch of the break.
No, a break’s gotta be messy, a goddamn compound fracture of the soul. See, the bone ain’t never gonna set quite right, always a dull throb under the surface. Memories like jagged shards, poking through the scar tissue, dripping with this fetid sauce of regret. It’s a grotesque banquet, this heartbreak hotel, and the only course on the menu is reheated misery. You choke it down, a bitter pill laced with phantoms, because some wounds bleed forever, baby. They bleed out into your dreams, these twisted narratives where the past replays on a scratched record, the needle stuck in a groove of “what ifs” and “should haves.”
Regret’s a bitter cocktail, a black dog with a barbed-wire leash gnawing at your insides. It twists your gut with “what ifs” and “should haves,” a voice whispering obscenities from the back alleys of your mind. It’s a film noir dame with a switchblade grin, leaving you bleeding in the gutter, replaying the scene over and over, each time with a sharper edge.
Yeah, the clean break’s a lie. We’re all walking fractures, baby, haunted by the ghosts of what went wrong. But in that mess, in the grit and grime, there’s a twisted beauty. You learn to walk with a limp, to navigate the world with a shard of your past jutting out, a jagged reminder that you survived the crash. It’s a badge of honor, a war wound in the emotional trenches of life. So raise a glass to the compound fractures, the dirty regrets, the messy breakups that leave you raw and reeling. That’s where the real story lies, scrawled in blood and bone. Yeah, the clean break’s a lie. We’re all limping around with these psychic fractures, dragging the baggage of our bad decisions, the ghosts of love lost, the echoes of words never taken back. It’s a burden, sure, but it’s also a badge of honor, a testament to the intensity with which we felt, the depth to which we fell. So raise a glass, a cracked and dusty one at that, to the messy, magnificent fractures of life. They may leave you twisted, but at least they prove you were ever alive in the first goddamn place.
The arc of history bends toward the Book of Mormon. Ima try this, see what happens. Ender’s Game, speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, Seventh Son and Red Prophet are solid but others like Prentice Melvin are a little “I’m not a racist but…”
No biggie but It’s been interesting to see Dan Simmons and Orson Scott Card losing their marbles during the Obama years one way or another. I suspect dealing with Hollywood made them mad
I haven’t read Simmons’s Flashback but I finished The Fifth Heart about Sherlock Holmes and Henry Adam’s solving a murder and uncovering a conspiracy of left wing agitants full of “resentment” for their betters.
I think Guillermo Del Toro is still developing Drood which already had an Egyptian from central casting. At the time I thought it a more a product of Wilkie Collin’s use of laudanum and unreliable narrator
I mean Ancillary Justice was fine, not great but the sequels are meh (still read them) and have Butler books on hold, see if they’re for me or not
Nevermind Campbell, the worst thing is not knowing you are prisoner of tropes that have been done better by people with greater command of language Ignore this at your own peril
I mean, you’re supposed to know but not care
Be a walking tropecyclopaedia but write Rick and Morty jokes
This is sophisticated and by Card standards, funny
Card is proceeding from a great deal of worldly knowledge of folktale, narrative and culture. Wondering how much of this was designed as a bingo exercise of Propp narratemes, Ukrainian and Russian fables and the Jewish diaspora from the USSR
Donald Barthelme’s 1974 short story “I Bought a Little City” is a surreal and satirical take on the American Dream, consumerism, and the power dynamics of ownership. The story follows an unnamed narrator who, upon hearing that the city of Galveston, Texas, is up for sale, decides to purchase it on a whim.
From the beginning, the narrator’s motivations for buying the city are unclear. He speaks of wanting to “take possession” of something, to “own a piece of land” and to “have power over people.” He seems to view the city as a commodity, a product to be bought and sold like any other, and he revels in the sense of control and authority that ownership brings.
Once he has bought the city, the narrator sets about making radical changes to it. He tears down houses, shoots 6,000 dogs, and rearranges the remaining buildings and streets into a giant Mona Lisa jigsaw puzzle, visible only from the air. His actions are senseless and destructive, driven more by a desire to assert his dominance than by any coherent plan or vision.
The destruction of the houses and the mass killing of dogs are particularly shocking moments in the story, as they demonstrate the narrator’s callous disregard for the lives and property of others. The dogs, in particular, are innocent victims, and their deaths seem to serve no purpose other than to demonstrate the narrator’s power to do as he pleases.
The creation of the Mona Lisa puzzle is equally absurd, as it suggests a kind of artistic vision or creativity on the part of the narrator that is entirely absent from his other actions. The fact that the puzzle is visible only from the air further emphasizes the narrator’s desire to be seen and admired from a distance, rather than engaging with the city and its inhabitants on a human level.
Overall, “I Bought a Little City” is a biting critique of American consumerism and the power dynamics of ownership. The narrator’s actions are presented as absurd and destructive, revealing the emptiness and cruelty that can lie at the heart of the pursuit of wealth and status. At the same time, the story is a celebration of the power of the imagination, as the narrator’s surreal actions demonstrate the limitless possibilities of creative expression. In this sense, the story can be seen as a warning against the dangers of unchecked power, but also as a celebration of the potential for human creativity and ingenuity.
Identity is a complex and multifaceted concept that has been the subject of much philosophical debate. One of the most fundamental questions about identity is whether it is situated in time. In other words, do we have a single, unchanging identity that persists throughout our lives, or is our identity constantly changing and evolving?
There is no easy answer to this question. On the one hand, it seems clear that our identities are shaped by our experiences and the choices we make throughout our lives. For example, the person I am today is very different from the person I was when I was a child. I have different values, beliefs, and goals. I have made different choices, and I have had different experiences. All of these things have contributed to the person I am today.
On the other hand, it also seems clear that there is some continuity in our identities. We can still recognize ourselves as the same person we were years ago, even though we have changed in many ways. This suggests that there must be some core aspect of our identity that remains constant over time.
So, what is this core aspect of our identity? Some philosophers have argued that it is our memories. Our memories of our past experiences help to shape our sense of self. They provide us with a sense of continuity and identity. Without our memories, we would be like a ship without a rudder, drifting aimlessly through time.
Other philosophers have argued that our identity is based on our character traits. Our character traits are the enduring dispositions that make us who we are. They include things like our personality, our values, and our beliefs. Our character traits are relatively stable over time, and they provide us with a sense of consistency and identity.
Still other philosophers have argued that our identity is based on our relationships with others. Our relationships with our family, friends, and loved ones are some of the most important things in our lives. They help to define us and give us a sense of belonging. When we lose someone close to us, it can feel like a part of us has died. This is because our relationships are so central to our identity.
So, what is the answer to the question of whether identity is situated in time? The truth is, it is both and neither. Our identities are shaped by our experiences, our memories, our character traits, and our relationships. All of these things contribute to the person we are today. However, our identity is also constantly changing and evolving. We are not the same person we were yesterday, and we will not be the same person we are tomorrow. Our identity is a work in progress, and it is always evolving.
The death of an archetype can anchor us as young forever. When we lose someone who we admire and identify with, it can feel like a part of us has died. We may feel like we can no longer relate to the world in the same way. We may feel lost and alone. However, the death of an archetype can also be a time of growth and transformation. It can be a time to reflect on our own lives and to decide who we want to be. It can be a time to let go of the past and to embrace the future.
In Hitchcock’s Vertigo, James Stewart’s character is unable to accept the loss of his loved one. He keeps looking for her, finds a look-alike and then sets about transforming her, Pygmalion-like, into a reincarnated version. His identity thus lives on, in the clay golem he recreates.
The death of an archetype can be a difficult time, but it can also be a time of growth and transformation. It is a time to reflect on our own lives and to decide who we want to be. It is a time to let go of the past and to embrace the future.
Kishōtenketsu is a unique story structure commonly found in East Asian narratives, particularly in traditional Chinese, Japanese, and Korean literature. It offers an alternative approach to storytelling that subverts the traditional Western concepts of conflict-driven plotlines and three-act structures.
The term “Kishōtenketsu” consists of four Chinese characters, each representing a different narrative element:
Ki (起): Introduction
This is the beginning of the story, where the setting, characters, and context are established.
It sets the stage for the narrative without introducing a conflict or problem right away.
Shō (承): Development
This section further develops the story without introducing a direct conflict or confrontation.
It expands on the characters, their relationships, and their motivations.
It may introduce new elements or situations that create intrigue or curiosity.
Ten (転): Twist or Turn
The third part of the story introduces a sudden twist, unexpected event, or change in direction.
It may present a conflict or challenge that disrupts the initial harmony established in the previous sections.
The twist adds tension and generates interest, providing a turning point in the narrative.
Ketsu (結): Conclusion or Resolution
This is the resolution of the story, where the narrative elements are brought together and resolved.
Unlike Western narratives that typically prioritize conflict resolution, Kishōtenketsu emphasizes a harmonious resolution.
It often focuses on the exploration of themes, emotions, or reflections rather than a clear-cut conflict resolution.
Kishōtenketsu showcases a different approach to storytelling by emphasizing gradual development, unexpected twists, and a more contemplative resolution. It eschews the conventional Western emphasis on conflict-driven plots and instead seeks to create a sense of balance and harmony within the narrative structure.
Here are ten brief examples of Kishōtenketsu narratives:
The protagonist, a young musician, dreams of becoming a star. They practice diligently (Ki), gain recognition from a talent scout (Shō), but unexpectedly lose their voice due to an illness (Ten). They find solace in composing beautiful music and become a successful songwriter (Ketsu).
A young girl moves to a new town (Ki), where she struggles to make friends (Shō). One day, she discovers a hidden forest (Ten), where she finds a group of talking animals who become her loyal companions (Ketsu).
A detective is assigned to a seemingly ordinary theft case (Ki), but as he investigates, he uncovers a complex web of corruption and betrayal (Shō). The detective’s own partner turns out to be the mastermind behind it all (Ten), leading to a thrilling confrontation and the restoration of justice (Ketsu).
A chef opens a small restaurant, serving simple yet delicious meals (Ki). As word spreads, the restaurant gains popularity (Shō). However, an influential food critic publishes a scathing review (Ten). The chef decides to stay true to their passion and continues to create exceptional dishes, eventually winning over the critic and regaining their reputation (Ketsu).
Two childhood friends drift apart as they grow older (Ki). Years later, they unexpectedly cross paths (Shō), leading to the revelation of unresolved feelings and the rekindling of their friendship (Ten). They embark on a new journey together, cherishing their bond (Ketsu).
A student struggles to find their place in a competitive academic environment (Ki). Through hard work and dedication, they slowly improve their grades (Shō). However, during a crucial exam, they suffer from a sudden memory lapse (Ten). Despite this setback, they focus on their overall growth and find success through their unique talents and creativity (Ketsu).
A shy artist showcases their work in a local gallery (Ki). People appreciate the artwork, and it gains attention from art enthusiasts (Shō). Unexpectedly, a renowned art critic questions the artist’s authenticity (Ten). The artist ignores the criticism and continues to create, finding fulfillment in their passion and leaving a lasting impact on the art world (Ketsu).
A family embarks on a long-awaited vacation to a serene island (Ki). They enjoy peaceful days filled with exploration and bonding (Shō). However, a powerful storm unexpectedly hits the island (Ten), leading the family to face their fears and come together to ensure each other’s safety (Ketsu).
A young adventurer sets out on a quest to find a legendary treasure (Ki). Along the way, they encounter various challenges and form alliances with fellow adventurers (Shō). When they finally reach the treasure’s location, they realize it holds no material value but symbolizes personal growth and inner strength (Ten). The adventurer returns home with newfound wisdom and a deeper understanding of themselves (Ketsu).
A group of friends plans a surprise party for their friend’s birthday (Ki). They make meticulous arrangements and keep it a secret (Shō). However, the friend accidentally discovers their plans in advance (Ten), leading to a heartwarming celebration where everyone expresses their genuine love and appreciation (Ketsu).
These examples illustrate the four-part structure of Kishōtenketsu, highlighting the introduction (Ki), development (Shō), twist (Ten), and conclusion (Ketsu) within each narrative.
While Kishōtenketsu is more commonly associated with traditional Asian narratives, its influence can also be observed in contemporary works across different mediums. The subversion of Western storytelling concepts provides a refreshing perspective and allows for unique and thought-provoking narratives that emphasize exploration and contemplation over traditional conflict-driven arcs.
Hero’s Journey
In a Kishōtenketsu reinterpretation of Star Wars: A New Hope, the narrative structure would unfold as follows:
Ki (Introduction): Luke Skywalker, a young farm boy, dreams of adventure and a greater purpose beyond his ordinary life on Tatooine. He longs for something more and yearns to become a skilled pilot like his father.
Shō (Development): Luke comes across a mysterious message hidden within a droid, R2-D2, who holds vital information about Princess Leia and the Rebel Alliance’s fight against the oppressive Galactic Empire. Luke, along with the help of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Han Solo, embarks on a journey to deliver the message and aid the rebellion.
Ten (Twist): During their mission to rescue Princess Leia from the clutches of Darth Vader, Luke discovers that Obi-Wan is not only a wise mentor but also a former Jedi Knight. Tragically, Obi-Wan sacrifices himself in a lightsaber duel with Vader, leaving Luke to face the challenges ahead without his guidance.
Ketsu (Conclusion): With newfound determination and the knowledge that he is the son of Anakin Skywalker, Luke embraces his destiny as a Jedi and leads the Rebel Alliance in a daring attack against the Death Star. Through the use of the Force and his piloting skills, Luke successfully destroys the massive weapon and becomes a symbol of hope for the galaxy.
In this Kishōtenketsu interpretation, the story of Star Wars: A New Hope follows the structure of introduction (Luke’s desire for adventure), development (his involvement in the Rebel cause), twist (the revelation of Obi-Wan’s fate), and conclusion (Luke’s triumph and the beginning of his journey as a Jedi).
How does the fellowship of the ring work out through KishōtenketsuChatGPT
In a Kishōtenketsu reinterpretation of The Fellowship of the Ring, the narrative structure would unfold as follows:
Ki (Introduction): The story begins with the introduction of the hobbit Frodo Baggins, who inherits the One Ring from his uncle, Bilbo. The audience is introduced to the peaceful and idyllic world of the Shire, where Frodo resides. Gandalf, the wise wizard, becomes aware of the immense power and danger of the Ring, setting the stage for Frodo’s journey.
Shō (Development): Frodo, along with his loyal friends Sam, Merry, and Pippin, embarks on a quest to destroy the Ring in the fires of Mount Doom. They encounter various challenges and adversaries along the way, including the treacherous Black Riders and the daunting Mines of Moria. The fellowship is formed, uniting members from different races and backgrounds in their shared mission.
Ten (Twist): During their journey, the fellowship faces a great betrayal when Boromir succumbs to the corrupting influence of the Ring and tries to take it from Frodo. This pivotal moment puts Frodo and the Ring in immediate danger, forcing Frodo to make a difficult decision to continue the quest on his own to protect his friends and fulfill the mission.
Ketsu (Conclusion): Frodo, accompanied by his faithful companion Sam, reaches the treacherous land of Mordor. They face numerous obstacles and perils, including encounters with Gollum, who desires the Ring for himself. In a climactic moment, Frodo resists the temptation of the Ring and finally reaches the fiery depths of Mount Doom. With Gollum’s intervention, the Ring is destroyed, saving Middle-earth from the clutches of evil.
In this Kishōtenketsu interpretation, The Fellowship of the Ring follows the structure of introduction (Frodo’s possession of the Ring), development (the formation of the fellowship and their journey), twist (Boromir’s betrayal and Frodo’s decision), and conclusion (Frodo’s ultimate triumph and the destruction of the Ring).
Let’s slice through the status quo, man. Let’s take this business, this purveyor of pedestrian products or services, and inject it with a hyperdermic of exclusivity. We’ll jack the price to a level that would make a Rockefeller blink, a price that screams, “This ain’t for the Joneses, this is for the goddamn Vanderbilts!”
Imagine, scenes ripped from a fever dream: diamond-encrusted briefcases for the corner bodega, bespoke toilet paper woven from the tears of angels (and maybe a bit of recycled hemp, gotta keep it green, baby). The logo? A middle finger sculpted from platinum, a glorious obscenity against the middlebrow masses.
We’ll create a waiting list longer than the Nile, a Kafkaesque labyrinth of qualification forms and hazing rituals. Only the truly dedicated, the ones willing to wade through a swamp of paperwork and obscenely high entry fees, will be deemed worthy. The product itself? Who cares! It’s the thrill of the hunt, the exhilaration of the unattainable we’re selling, a transcendent status symbol for the truly jaded consumer.
Think of it, a black market for groceries, a speakeasy for socks! We’ll turn the mundane into the mythical, the bourgeois into the bohemian. This won’t be a business, it’ll be a goddamn cult, a secret society where the password is “More is less, baby, and less is oh-so-very expensive!”
But beware, the Feds will be watching. This kind of radical chic can attract the squares, the squares with their regulatory tentacles and tax forms. We’ll have to operate on the fringes, become financial phantoms, Robin Hoods of exorbitant pricing, stealing from the unwashed masses and giving to… well, ourselves mostly, but hey, a little chaos is good for the soul, right?
So buckle up, chum, this ain’t your mama’s business model. We’re gonna democratize this whole damn racket by making it so exclusive it’ll make your head spin. Now, pass the mescaline and let’s get to work.
Imagine, a market where entry’s a one-way ticket to the stratosphere. Prices so high they’d make a junkie on a bender blush. We’re talking platinum plungers and diamond-encrusted toilet paper. Forget the corner store, this is the black market for the bourgeois elite. The hoi polloi can gawk at the chrome-plated shelves from the street, their noses pressed against the bulletproof glass.
This ain’t your daddy’s monopoly, this is a game for the financial daredevils, the ones who mainline risk and snort volatility for breakfast. The barriers to entry will be higher than a junkie strung out on angel dust. We’ll erect walls of red tape so thick they’d make Kafka weep. Permits that cost more than a politician’s bribe, licenses doused in the blood of firstborn children – the whole bureaucratic nightmare.
But for those who crawl through the barbed wire and wade through the paperwork swamp, oh, the rewards will be exquisite. Exclusivity so rare it’ll make a snowflake feel common. Products imbued with a mystical aura simply because of their price tag. A clientele so wealthy they could bathe in champagne and use hundred-dollar bills as drying towels.
This, my friend, is the new American Dream. Not a house with a white picket fence, but a chrome-plated coffin and a mausoleum so opulent it’ll make the pharaohs jealous. We’re gonna take the very idea of business and twist it into a grotesque parody, a funhouse mirror reflecting the absurdity of consumerism. It’ll be beautiful, man, beautiful and utterly insane.
Alright, listen up. You think this business, this whole damn racket, is some kind of free-for-all? Everyone gets a shot? Bull***t. This ain’t a goddamn playground. But here’s the thing, sunshine – a crowded market is a dead market. We don’t want everyone in the game, flinging elbows and driving down prices. We want scarcity. We want exclusivity.
So, democratize? Forget about it. We’re going to aristocrat-ize this whole damn thing. You heard me right. We’re jacking up the price. Not a little, mind you. We’re talking stratospheric. Prices so high, they’ll make your eyes water and your wallet scream.
We’re talking about a game, a high-stakes game. You want in? You gotta pay to play. We’re jacking up the prices, understand? Not a nickel and dime operation here. We’re talking real money, the kind that talks.
The competition’s a joke. They’re flooding the market with this cheap, flimsy product. We’re selling exclusivity, understand? A badge of honor for those who can afford it. You buy our product, you ain’t just buying a service, you’re buying a piece of the goddamn American Dream.
We’re gonna make the barriers to entry higher than a giraffe’s ass. Regulations? We’ll write our own damn regulations. Permits? Forget about it. You gotta prove you’re a goddamn gladiator, that you can handle the pressure of this game.
But for the chosen few, the winners, the ones who cough up the dough? Oh boy, it’ll be a goddamn paradise. We’re talking top-shelf, white-glove service. The kind of service that makes you feel like a goddamn king. You won’t just be a customer, you’ll be part of the club. The elite. The one percent.
This ain’t about making things easy. This is about weeding out the weaklings. This is about creating a market where the only currency is cold, hard cash. You got the stomach for it? You got the Benjamins? Then step right up. Otherwise, get the hell outta my way.
Now, some chump might ask, “Mamet, won’t that kill your customer base?” Wrong. We’re not catering to the riffraff, the bargain bin brigade. We’re going after the high rollers, the guys who wouldn’t blink at a four-figure price tag for a paperclip. We’re building an aura, a mystique. This product, this service – it won’t just be a thing you buy, it’ll be a badge of honor. A silent scream to the world that says, “I can afford this. You can’t.”
Think about it. You wouldn’t pay a million bucks for a loaf of bread, would you? Of course not. Because it’s bread. But a million-dollar loaf of bread with a gold-plated crust and a side of caviar? Now we’re talking. It’s not about the bread anymore, is it? It’s about the statement.
So, crank up the costs. Make it hurt. Because in this twisted game, pain is profit, and exclusivity is the name of the game. We’re not selling a product, we’re selling an elitist experience. And believe you me, there’s a market for that. A very lucrative one.
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Alright, listen up. We’re in the business of, what was it? Coffee shops? Forget the pumpkin spice lattes and the free Wi-Fi for the freelance posers. We’re going upscale. Highfalutin’ upscale. We’re talking single-origin, shade-grown beans that cost more than a two-bit suit.
The name? Grind. No cutesy puns. Just a one-word gut punch. Grind for the grind. You gotta put in the work to afford this joe. Forget the venti caramel macchiatos with a venti sprinkle of entitlement. We’re dealing in espressos served in hand-blown Italian glass. No names on cups. You ain’t special here. You’re just another cog in the caffeine machine.
The barista? Forget the teenagers with the nose rings and the ironic band t-shirts. We’re hiring ex-military. Veterans with laser focus and the ability to steam milk with the precision of a heat-seeking missile. No chit-chat. No weather reports. Just your damn coffee, black as a government SUV and twice as strong.
The seating? Forget the overstuffed armchairs and the communal tables. We’re talking hard wooden chairs, bolted to the floor. No lingering. You get your caffeine fix, you get the hell out. This ain’t a social club. This is a temple to productivity.
The price? Absurd. Extortionate. Enough to make a CEO choke on his stock options. But here’s the twist. We offer a discount. A loyalty program, if you will. But it ain’t based on points or free drinks. It’s based on performance. You bring in a new client, close a deal, hustle your ass off – the price goes down. Fail to perform? The price goes up. We’re in the results business, baby.
This, my friend, is Grind. Coffee for the closers. Not for the dreamers or the dabblers. Just the ruthless, the relentless, the ones who understand that a good cup of joe can fuel an empire. You in? You got the stomach for it? Otherwise, get the hell out of my way.
Motivation in the realist novel tends to be, in Freudian language, “overdetermined”, that is to say, any given action is the product of several drives or conflicts derived from more than one level of the personality; whereas in folk-tale a single cause suffices
We crave order, a map of the buzzing confusion we call existence. So we dream up these categories: objective, subjective, asubjective. Objective? Pure, unadulterated fact, cold and hard like a chrome thermometer. But is this “temperature” just another code word slapped on the writhing mess of the real? Sure, the reading might be objective, a number on a calibrated scale. But hot or cold? That’s pure subjective juice, baby. Cooked by your own personal wiring.
Then there’s the subjective. The world funnels through your own meat grinder of experience, spitting out a kaleidoscope of interpretations. A movie, one man’s terror trip, another’s laugh riot. The text, a Rorschach dripping with the inkblots of your own psyche. You paint the world with the colors of your own history, turning a neutral movie into a personal horror show.
But “asubjective”? Now that’s a word that sends shivers down your spine. A language virus, mutating beyond the grasp of the single self. Imagine a narrative that shatters, explodes into a million fractured voices, a stream of consciousness with no owner. No “I” to pin it on. Or maybe it’s a language stripped bare, devoid of meaning. Nonsensical elements slither across the page, a narrative maze with no exit. Pynchon, the word-alchemist, might be cooking up this brew, dismantling the meaning factories, leaving you adrift in a sea of ambiguity. that’s a word that slithers out of the shadows. Maybe it’s a place beyond the self altogether. A language that doesn’t give a damn about your feelings. A narrative explodes into a million fractured voices, a stream of consciousness with no owner’s manual. Imagine a kaleidoscope shattering reality into a million fragmented viewpoints. Meaning? A mirage shimmering in the textual desert. This asubjectivity could also be a prankster, the author tossing nonsensical elements and disjointed narratives into the mix, building a labyrinth with no escape.
Objective, subjective, asubjective – just labels slapped on a writhing reality. Remember, language is a virus, a control system. These categories? Just another roach motel, trapping meaning in its sticky grid. So next time you see these words, keep a healthy dose of paranoia handy. Reality’s a lot messier than any label can handle. See, “asubjective” is a shape-shifter, its meaning a constant negotiation. A reminder that even the driest terms are crawling with unexpected complexities.
Research Grant Proposal: Revisiting Vietnam: Exploring the Parapsychological Labyrinth of a Humphrey Triumph Over Nixon, Impeded by Kaleidoscopic Counterculture and Fellow Travelers in the Fog
Authored by: Mortimer M. Muddle
Sponsored by:
The Rand Corporation
In harmonious collaboration with:
The Dewey Cheetam and Howe Foundation (champions of fringe mathematics and heretofore unknown strategic theorems)
The Lionel Fumble & Errington Blunder Foundations (dedicated to the unbiased analysis of unconventional historical turning points, however improbable)
Abstract:
The specter of Vietnam looms large in the American psyche. This proposal seeks to revisit that pivotal moment in history, venturing into the uncharted territory of “what-ifs.” We posit a reality where Hubert Humphrey, not Richard Nixon, ascended to the Oval Office in 1968. Through meticulous archival research, veteran interviews, and a liberal dose of speculative fiction, this project will explore the hypothetical success of a Humphrey presidency in navigating the treacherous waters of the Vietnam War.
However, our investigation won’t be a victory march. The counterculture movement, awash in a potent cocktail of reefer madness and communist fellow travelers (or fellow feelers, depending on the source), will undoubtedly pose a significant challenge to Humphrey’s war efforts. Imagine, if you will, legions of tie-dye clad protestors camped outside the White House, their flower power a potent (if somewhat pungent) symbol of dissent.
This grant proposal delves into the heart of a paradox: a Democratic president waging war while facing fierce opposition from the very base that propelled him to victory. Humphrey, a man known for his folksy charm and progressive ideals, will be forced to walk a tightrope – maintaining public support for the war effort while placating a restless, war-weary generation.
President Hubert Humphrey, a man of enigmatic charisma and political unorthodoxy, would have steered the United States down a divergent path in the Vietnam conflict. This research posits that Humphrey, possessing an uncanny ability to intuit the burgeoning anti-war sentiment, would have implemented a more nuanced and psychedelically tinged approach to the conflict.
Methodology:
Phase One: The Road Not Taken –
We will delve into the archives of the counterculture, meticulously combing through dog-eared copies of the The Whole Earth Catalog, lysergic-acid addled underground newspapers, and the whispered confessions of those who wandered the Haight-Ashbury in paisley vests and bell-bottoms.
We propose a series of interviews with key figures of the era, including those rumored to possess extrasensory perception and the ability to commune with the cosmic weather patterns. Through these interviews, we hope to glean insights into the potential for a more telepathic brand of diplomacy – a crucial element in a Humphrey-led Vietnam strategy.
Utilizing cutting-edge (and some would say, heretical) mathematical modeling techniques pioneered by the Dewey Cheetam and Howe Foundation, we will attempt to simulate the trajectory of the war under a President Humphrey. These models will incorporate factors both tangible ( troop movements, logistical constraints) and intangible (fluctuations in the national mood, the waxing and waning of the counterculture’s influence).
Phase Two: Alternate History, Alternate Reality – Here, we enter the realm of the hypothetical. Through a combination of historical analysis and fictionalized narratives, we will explore how Humphrey might have prosecuted the war – from troop escalations (or perhaps de-escalations?) to diplomatic overtures (both genuine and veiled). Veterans, haunted by the jungles of Southeast Asia and the jungles of bureaucracy back home, will spill their guts on tape recorders powered by smuggled army batteries. We’ll track down the high priestesses and priests of the counterculture – poets with handlebar mustaches and oracles clad in tie-dye, all dispensing wisdom both profound and utterly baked.
Phase Three: The Hippie Hydra – Grant us the green, man, the folding green of the Man Himself, and we shall delve into the pulsating, paisley heart of the Hippie Hydra! This beast with a thousand beaded heads, each spewing incense and invective against the War Machine, shall be our quarry. We’ll chase down the ghosts of protest marches, where flowers bloomed from cobblestones and tear gas hung heavy in the air like bad vibes at a Grateful Dead show. We’ll infiltrate draft dodger communes nestled deep in redwood forests, their inhabitants fueled by lentil soup and righteous anger. Propaganda leaflets, more lysergic than legible, will be our Rosetta Stone, deciphering the cryptic language of revolution scrawled across college campuses. We’ll emerge, blinking in the harsh light of reality, with a kaleidoscopic portrait of the domestic resistance, a testament to the power of flowers, folk music, and sheer, unadulterated weirdness in the face of the military-industrial complex.
Challenges and Anticipated Roadblocks:
The sheer imponderability of the concept itself. The butterfly effect of a Humphrey presidency is enough to induce metaphysical vertigo.
The potential for obfuscation by those forces, both domestic and foreign, who may have benefited from the historical reality of a Nixon victory. We anticipate encountering a labyrinth of misinformation, strategically placed red herrings, and the whispers of shadowy figures lurking at the fringes of the political spectrum (and possibly other dimensions).
The inherent skepticism of the academic community towards methodologies that embrace the paranormal and the downright peculiar. However, we are confident that the potential benefits of this research outweigh the scoffs of the unenlightened.
Deliverables:
The culmination of this odyssey will be a multifaceted exploration of this hypothetical past. We envision a monograph titled “The Acidified Dove: Humphrey’s Vietnam and the Triumph of Tie-Dye Diplomacy,” a documentary film (working title: “Ho Chi Minh on Haight Street”), and, for the truly adventurous, an immersive virtual reality experience that places the participant squarely in the midst of a clash between Pentagon brass and polychromatic protesters.
The final report will be a multimedia extravaganza, incorporating not only traditional text and charts, but also elements of jazz poetry, documentary collage filmmaking (think Ken Kesey on a bender with a Bolex), and – if funding permits – a holographic simulation of the key turning points of the Humphrey-era Vietnam War.
A public symposium featuring veterans, historians, and (if budgetary constraints allow) a representative from the counterculture movement, fostering a lively discussion on the Vietnam War and the legacies of Humphrey and Nixon.
Conclusion:
This research project is not merely an academic exercise. By revisiting Vietnam through the lens of a Humphrey presidency, we gain a deeper understanding of the war’s complexities and the enduring impact on American society. The specter of the “hippie menace” serves as a stark reminder of the domestic challenges faced by wartime leaders. Ultimately, this project aspires to illuminate the murky crossroads of war, dissent, and the American character.
