Working every day makes you crazy

[Rick]

Nate Grover wrote:
>
> x-no-archive: yes
>
> You have no one to blame. You are blameless. We are blameless. The
> world is blameless. Innocent. Pristine it its naive, voracious needs.
> Men and women, wind and war, blood on the beach. These are natural.
> Every event, every consequence, each instance of action, reaction, cause
> and effect, is and has always been a part of nature. It is all
> "natural". You are natural. You are of nature. Your hot breath,
> anxious perspirations, cocaine powder, wingtip shoes, Davenports,
> Boeings, Intels, M&Ms, Norma Jean, your plutonium burial grounds, your
> rapes and your bridges, your histories, haunts, hopes, and hates.
>
> You are blameless AND feckless. You cannot fight the weight of your
> history. Four billion years, two million years, ten thousand years,
> pick a cut-off for when your kind was born, and it is still too much
> pressure for you to fight against. You will become your ancestors
> despite your every attempt to shake it off and become more than a
> huddled, wide-eyed animal.
>
> You feel shielded from reality. You sit in a bullet train every
> morning, patiently letting time drift away from you - valuable time - as
> you wait to arrive at a non-descript office space, and spend your entire
> day locked away like an animal, locked in a cubicle with dull
> grayish-blue carpeted walls. You are not actually paid to be productive
> as much as you are paid to not cause any trouble. You never come into
> contact with harsh, stark, steamy, savory reality. All day you breathe
> the recycled air of the AC vents. Morning and evening you breathe the
> exhaled stale air of your fellow bullet-train passengers. All night you
> breathe the musty, enclosed air of your apartment. The time spent
> breathing unrestricted air, from your door to the car, from the car to
> the train, from the train to the cubicle, how much time is it? Five
> minutes. Ten minutes.. Ten minutes you spend a day breathing air
> that's not contained by the contrivances of human beings. What does
> that do to your brain?
>
> You watch television and on this marvelous screen, vibrant with color
> and kinetic energy, you look at awesome and awful imagery. You see an
> elephant mating in the savannah, with a penis larger than your arm. You
> see foreigners in funny clothes, rioting over political strife you
> cannot understand. You see valleys and cliffs and forested hills so
> achingly beautiful you think to yourself, "it looks like a painting",
> forgetting that originally, beautiful paintings were thought to portray
> the world around them, not vice-versa. You see video footage of the
> intimate acts and daily routines of people you recognize, famous people
> everyone can recognize. You see images of them on the beach; in a
> restaurant. By watching these unattainable olympian figures wiping
> their lips with a napkin, just like you have done countelss times, you
> think maybe when you do it, it's just as unreal as when they do it. If
> the Welsh Prince is having an affair, maybe yours is unreal as well.
>
> You do not even react. You are so isolated from any of this reality.
> Is it reality? Is it?
>
> Your mind has started to drift, to wander into the "keep off the grass"
> area; you've started to color outside the lines. Sometimes, when you
> are on the el-train, and the flat sheet-metal clouds reflect an awful,
> portentous light onto the pinched and pasty faces of your fellow
> passengers, sometimes, at the awful moment whe nthe reflection from some
> steel structure, like a blade of glass, comes knifing into your vision,
> that's when the strange thoughts come.
>
> These are the thoughts you shoudl not hink. All your life you've
> strived to suppress these thoughts. they ar strange, and frightening,
> bizarre, and beautiful. You think of things you are sure no one has
> ever thought of before. You can't stop your ind from wandering into
> territory from which even you want to stay away.
>
> You picture everyone as if they had horns growing from their heads.
>
> You speculate about the nature of violence. What's it like to cut open
> a person' chest and pull out the heart, in the name of medicine and
> healing? Is it different than doing it for some other reason? Does the
> heart itself look different in the hands of a healer than when it's in
> the hands of a killer?
>
> All the thoughts you've been told not to think come rushing into your
> brain like an anxious crowd that has waited for days to get into the
> doors of a concert hall.
>
> Sex with your mother, bullets in your brain, the flesh of animals you
> should not kill, the ability to freeze the flow of time and rearrange
> the world while no one is looking, violence, violence, knives and
> needles, hot irons and razors, you try to quantify the amount of human
> blood contained in your traincar alone and you imagine yourself wading
> knee-deep in the fluid after you empty all the containers with a spideco
> knife; surreal images of angels and demons lubriciously carrying on in
> the streets, roman banquets, anal sex, wierd and wondrous birth defects
> like the man with three legs and two cocks that you saw in that book
> about freaks.
>
> Nate Grover
> "Everything is dangerous if you're stupid"
> http://www.webbnet.com/~natedogg

So, is there a problem here we need to know about?