final installment in the romp of the neo-leisure

(this was my ultimate, and last response sent to the writers group/association. through this brief experience i came to better understand and articulate what it is that i think is important. and though my tone is critical, in truth, i am grateful.)

Writing is a lonely pursuit—as is reading; and for that matter—living. Isolation is a theme of the urban electronic age, better said—of the modern individual. And unfortunately the arts (I use the term loosely, and it might be better to say media) have become confirmations of individual worth in a culture of narcissism where quality is only judged by popularity. “Everybody is somebody in Luckenbach.”

The impotent antidote to isolation is being recognized. And the members of this group seek to be known as writers—as producers for a public which is guarded by commercial publishing. And in this way, the image of the writer becomes that of the sage. And with the writer already recognized as such, quality (judged by popularity) becomes a goal and not a requirement. This is an inversion, and is the product of self-indulgence.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, self-indulgence is the hallmark of the consumer society. And some of the most successful products cater to this whim—like this group and many movies and books. In the later, money functions as the vote of confidence; and in the former—popularity. Overall, people want to know they are not alone; that is, not alone in being themselves—accomplishment in recognition.

The real work of the arts is to take on these themes, to examine them, and to be critical. It generates thought—in essence, it is the breaking of boundries. It is active and restless. It does not promote a stupor—that’s fundamentalism, that’s going back to Descartes’ provisional morality. The story, the poem, and groups such as these can not be safe islands amid strife, artificially sequestered morsels, but instead engage in challenges—not popularity—but the challenges posed to quality.

This is not a higher calling—beginning with awareness and becoming dynamic—this is living.

"Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth,
Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go."

(added to this post: Walt Whitman: Song of Myself)

l-a'r0