Are you self-actualised? Are you authentic? Do you have any idea what I’m saying here?
If you do, please write back because I have no idea myself.
The self-actualisation movement seems to be concerned with two things:
- Pre-conceiving the paradigmical existentialism of cultural shift-zeit as is pertains to the greater world-mind.
- Getting you to pay $ 39.95 to the author.
I have managed the first part but am struggling with the second. It is to this end I address my readers – please send $ 39.95 so that I can tell the other writers to go and self actualise themselves sideways.
I’m not against new philosophy as such. Or per se. Or even ipso facto. Some of my facts are as ipso as you could want, and that’s before you peel them. But I am running out of patience with the associate professors of midwestern cardboard colleges who try to sell books of modern wisdom when there isn’t all that much of it between the covers. I can do big words and small thoughts myself here at home for free.
At one time I was not concerned with self-actualisation at all. I concentrated on food, drink, girls, and passing my university courses so that I could go out and gather money. I would have been happy with self-possibility, probability, or culpability. If I had been asked whether I was actual, I could only have proved it by kicking the questioner. I’m sorry now that I didn’t take the opportunity while my legs were good.
As for actualising myself now, I’m happy to do it if there is a seniors discount, or if I can do it after my nap. And none of that getting up at 4:30 in the morning with the full bladder – that kind of actuality is for the birds.
The author tree is not exactly a distinct botanic species. Author trees can be Elm, Maple, Oak, or any large deciduous variety. In tropic and hot climates Palms and Baobab trees have been very successful author trees. Pine and Fir are less common, though the Giant Redwood of California would be very suitable, if a little deadly.
You see an author tree is a tree which the author of a book that is not selling well will use as a marketing tool. He packs a bag with copies of his book, climbs up the tree, and shinnies out on a limb that hangs over the sidewalk.
When a suitable victim walks under the tree the author drops the book on their head and then pops back into the foliage. The person below suffers a surprising blow on the head and then looks around to see who threw a book at them. Very few ever look up. Then they pick it up and see what it is. In most cases they will start to read it…and if the author has been careful the start it put with a zinger like a murder or a girl taking her clothes off, chances are the sore head will wander off reading the book.
It was not a marketing strategy without risk. Pamphleteers and writers of short stories bombarded the populace with no qualms; their writings were lightweight and safe to drop. Others, like Tolstoy or Zola, caused fractured necks and worse. This explains many of the periods in their lives when they took rapid vacations into the provinces.
Of course you have to make some sacrifices for your art, but these days sacrificing strangers is not viewed well by the authorities. Philistines to a man.
I’ve been taken somewhat to task recently by a reader of another weblog column who complained that I did not write what he wished to read. I suspect that what he wanted to read was what he had written – and that if I had written to his mind I should equally have displeased him…for I should have stolen his story and portrayed it as my own.
And there it is for many authors…if they write their story they risk the wrath. And yet, in the end, their own story is the only one they can honestly tell.
This is no bad thing. Consider – if I tell something I know to you, you are not required to hear it – you can turn away unheeding. But I can’t tell you without telling myself, and in many cases I am the person who needs to hear that story. I need to get something straight in my own mind…to remember or to understand. The rehearsal of the facts helps me where it might just bore you.
The WordPress weblog columns can be therapeutic instruments for many people and I am impressed that they are made available to so many for such a little cost. I think mine have done me a world of good in the last six years and I would readily recommend the writing of one to anyone upon a trial basis. There may be no more Hemingways out there, but there are certainly writers who can toll their own bells.