All Mitzvah is is a response to the smallness that I feel in the
presence of some vague but giant monster. I choose to give to people, to support art in a society that fails to acknowledge or support its artists (its kings and queens), to say fuck you to the capitalist infatuation with ownership by falling more and more into debt -- by taking back the resources that are our to begin with. (If money is the only construct that is going to get us anywhere, then I will, in a sense, steal that money. I will never pay credit card companies back the majority of what I "borrow." I will die $100,000 in debt and they will have no way to collect, because I refuse to get married and have children -- who to collect from then? No one. They eat it. . . .)
This is what I can do.
I have no sword. A blog is not a sword and neither is a chapbook press. Neither is debt or the refusal to pay debt. Neither are grandiose statements about art and artists. No swords here.
Time: 4:24PM CDT, 5 November 2007.
Place: Lawrence, Kansas, USA
Here is no monster. I know how all my dreams will end -- with me waking up. This is a not a metaphor for the end of idealism -- mine or anyone's. Maybe a bit of what Lisa Robertson got at -- resistance via softness, via nostalgia, via memory. We must make ourselves useless. We must give in to Nothing.
To what extent does our language create our world?