5 December 2006 Written by Andrew Eglinton Print This Post  Email This Post

How quickly this capitalist rot spreads to my core, attacks my nervous system, extinguishes the light of inspiration, passion and love; and how foolishly I respond with a cure of clarity, “reduce the thing to nothing”, chastise myself from life and flee difficulty like a chasing wave. Me, the fool who oversleeps in a bed of laurels and accepts others into the fold, to transmit the rot, to be childishly happy in the arms of this festering disease. Why should I wake up and punch clenched fists through thick windows, to let the possibility of something different in, something so distortedly and disturbingly complex as the intelligence of my audience that for so long I have neglected? Death to the infidel in me, who drinks from the corporate cup and bathes in the tears of the down-trodden; create for me a 10th circle and fill it with eternal clarity.