Many people ask me why do I use the typewriter… and I guess I use it because it has to do with that oh so cliché word vocalized as beat…the timepiece on top of the piano you hear, that click tap-tap-back-tock-tac, and then you create a score and you follow the sentence that does have the construction of sounds; this is the sound about what life is. And even if you are deaf you can feel the rhythm of the sentence and you can follow your voice and the other voices that make up your narratives.
This is just a simple Musical theory concerning the act of writing. Writing can be seen as a musical instrument and on a keyboard you can feel this as much as the late night head aching temple. You tap-tap and hum and beat along to the chorus and the verse, the strings of the mind, that follow you along the day. You never know what you’re going to write about, at least all of the time, because it’s in your mind and let’s be honest you have no clue what your mind is…And that’s why, well one of the main reasons, why I write and I don’t have to look at the keys anymore. I can flow along with everything, but man, this doesn’t make anything easier.
I’m searching for the universal chorus, the song that we can all sing, the song of peace, of the future peace that our species will share with other species of star peoples that we haven’t even thought about being real or not…
And this aint just about writing; this is about slowing my heart beat down, calming my nerves; this is about becoming a better person; this is about curing my anxious past, my strange future, a future that I see myself becoming, and I think way too much.
I need music to survive in this world that I was born into. And I don’t just need it for entertainment. I need to hear the music of peace every hour of my life, for the reminder, the reminder of the honest goodness that humans contain.
I need the music of writing. This is very much what writing is, and it’s about trying to find out what’s going on, and that’s all I really want to know, and not in some fuzzy metaphysical sense, not in that a-priori and what comes before the material world of conceptualization. No, I’m a material substance, and man oh man I’ve got absolutely and positively no clue what this means… And people say “get over it” and “just put on a tie and tap numbers and go to bed like everyone else”.
The thing is, I know that we’re not just some great abstraction of digitalized numbers. We’re humans, organic life, and I use the typewriter as the main guiding instrument. I have a degree in advanced data gathering, so I’m a scientist at heart, and in a way I use the sounds as evidence to show you what goes through my mind as I type. I know this is strange, but this is a big part of my WHY, the why of the often asked question of why do you write.
In the universe of things I’m a random pattern, but i think and therefore I am as Descartes said. Still, this argument needs further explanation, not for truth of the atoms that we can’t see, but for our society, and we are a society, never forget that.
We are never the word just. We are not just science. We are not just a town-a country-a human-a village-an army. We are not just a kingdom-a religion-a cup of coffee. We are not just a business person-a writer-a computerized system of computations. We are never the word just. Never forget that. You probably won’t. At times I will.
As a society we seek order with gadgets, but we’re not merely what we call the number one or the individual. We are a society, a gathering, a human species, a herd within this funny blue marble that really is a spaceship jungle.
I listen as I tap the typewriter and flow. I enjoy heart of darkness that is within mind. Yes, a Conrad reference. He is my great great and maybe great uncle.
Also, here is an extra PDF with a short section of Visions of Michigan. I like my fonts. I toe the line, the middle of the line. I tempt cars, to see if they are killers. I jump out of the way, like a rabbit with big ol lovely but lil ol surprised eyes.
Another week, let’s see what happens.