saturday morning breakfast cereal

lying on my bed eyes fixated on the ceiling light and letting my thoughts spiral out and back again. somewhere along the way i think that jack kerouac must have done this once, in a little shack in denver, and thousands of dreamers across the world have stared at ceilings in the same way, and the only difference was that jack had the knack to write these things down in language that crackled and gasped. only a few people, i think, are gifted enough to write these experiences but the secret that every writer, artist, maker is trying to convey is that everyone can live them. if you're brave enough.

i caught a snippet of the mtv movie awards last night and i got angry. angry that celebrities and whatnots think that getting up on stage and rapping about the oil spill is enough to actually mop it up. i know our culture is "spectacularized" to the point where it's all message and no action but at the end of the day "raising awareness" is not enough to make a palpable impact, especially if awareness is mediated through the commercialized piece of shit that is contemporary pop culture, in which you entreat one moment and are lost among a screaming sea of justin bieber fans the next. and then i thought, is this a casualty of modern democracy? do we elect our celebrities to speak for us just as we elect our politicians to act? is everyone just urging someone else to do something, while standing still themselves? this is wrong, folks. pick up your own litter, stop shopping at walmart and mind your own business.

at least that's what i think.