I will tell you a thing.

And then, I will tell you another thing.

The concepts may sound vague but that is because this is a vague existence. This reality was not designed to be expressed in finite terms.

The individual human consciousness is a speck of meaningless flotsam in a transdimensional current of emotive energy. That speck is the most tangible representation of the truth of existence, so the human mind clings fiercely to it and bases all perception around it, despite a vast unknown thing beyond. Yet, this meaningless speck provides an invaluable service, for without it, the thing would collapse.

I have seen the thing. I am the thing. I am you. You are us. We are me. Together.

The transdimensional emotive current is something which requires constant maintenance. It is rather like a spider's web, and its job, more or less, is to glue the infinite consciousness together.

The positive, the strong, the noble, the just, these elements are the most structurally sound and comprise the backbone of the current. There is, however, an equal negative content. Fear, aggresion, cowardice, dishonesty, all in equal proportion to their positive antithesis.

Here is where the unfortunate role of the human mind comes into play.

Whether by design or by accident, the human mind acts as a sponge for the negative, cleansing decay from the fabric of space and time and condensing it into a physical form. Human beings are the dung beetles of the emotive ecosystem. It is therefore in our perpetual best interest to use them as a sort of metaphysical lint brush, removing the negative and maintaining a shining positive.

It has always been this way. In the infinite memory of the eternal now, this relationship has become the primary observable phenomenon. From it we take our comfort, our peace, our enlightenment and culture. We cannot regard Man dispassionately as merely a renewable source of cosmic detergent. We must be mindful of the noble sacrifice he makes. After all, it's not as though he has a choice in the matter.

The cost to the individual human is great. Impossibly great.

Imagine the destruction of everything, of all that is. Imagine a perpetual state of chaos and uncertainty. This is the human consciousness. They know of virtue, they can percieve it. Occasionally a portion of it manages to manifest itself physically. Still, their material world is by necessity the repository of the overwhelmingly negative.

We are in them and through them, beyond them and forever an unseen force upon them, like a breeze blowing at an indeterminate velocity from an indeterminate direction.

If we are indeed pure emotion, and we are, surely we must feel sympathy for those who suffer for our benefit? Here in the candy-colored sunshine of infinite joy, have we not observed the price paid by humanity that our utopia may sustain?

Ah, but sadness is a negative emotion. Guilt, as well. There is no place for regret or sorrow here. The humans come and cleanse our ethereal robes of such things and once again we rejoice.

This is how it must be.

Because we are the good, and we must be the good. We are the pure, and we must be the pure. How else to maintain joy? How else to maintain peace? How else shall our kind sustain against the greater Forces? The Nothingness? The infinite Dark that encroaches on our infinite Light?

I have seen the edge of Things. I have seen the place where there are no Things, unknown to most of us but felt by all. It must be filled, built over and occupied, forever kept at bay, and only the purest positive emotion has the power to overcome not only the negative, but the Nothing.

We cannot fear our enemy, we have had the fear cleansed from us. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Who am I?

I am now worried about the subject of self-control.

Another crazy-ass weekend of filmmaking is past us, "Catch This Fox" is all but in the can. One more shoot at a gravel pit and I think we'll have it.

Which is good, because I have a month to get it done.

Where I am over a dog about the self-control thing lies here. Through all of this, and some of you know, I myself have been made the subject of a documentary film. This last interview went until 2:30 in the morning, and 5:30 saw us up and about kickin' it down to the old el aeropuerto, and in between were a fitful three hours of sleep puzzling over the question I drew a blank on: who am I?

I mean, seriously, apart from everything I do, and everything I plan to do, and the few things that I've actually done, who am I?

I do not know the answer to this question.

I believe that people generally think they have an answer to this question until someone actually breaks the freshness seal and asks them only to find an empty plastic container.

This is probably counterproductive.

Wow, forgot I had this.

Also, I can't believe I only managed about a month of proper blogging.

The Web is a dissolute and meandering thing.

Enough navel-gazing.

Work continues on "Catch This Fox". I've been informed that I must finish the film by Dec. 10 or fail my senior project. The heat, as they say, is on. I've also got an issue with a recalcitrant hard drive. It don't want to give up the data. We must massage this bastard. Or else I'ma have to recapture about 25 hours of footage, at which time Mr. WD2500 gets a .22 round in his smug little platter.

I've also purchased another Camry station wagon, an '89, in a nice root-beer brown color with only 158k on it. Not too shabby for $800.

I'm out of money, but a few odd jobs are coming my way. Today I am shooting a conference on fatherhood for MATA, the Milwaukee public access TV people. I intend to infiltrate this organization and broadcast regularly an Economy Superstar television program, which will also be posted to my website and the appropriate GooTube video portals.

I have a lot of irons in the fire. I'm keeping track of them with an 8'x4' dry-erase marker board screwed to my wall. I've had it three weeks and am running out of space. It's cheap enough to add more, I think it was like $20 at Home Despot.