Attic Day 2007 was certainly interesting.
On one hand it was good to "hear" from people and check off some of those boxes.
On the other hand Attic Day is a motherfucker. Because we all die, that's why. Some of us suffer prolonged lung/liver diseases and s.l.o.w.l.y. die while our dearest friends sit by and watch the TeeVee with us because the whole process of dying is so completely absurd that trying to dig up poignancy is even more ridiculous. I mean, what, we're suppose to suddenly "get" what this was all about? Nope.
Or, we fall through a chimney in Chinatown and plummet down 12 goddamn floors of darkened elevator shaft (and darkened is key because that descent is both timeless and endless). No time to figure it all out there, right? Or is there? All you can get out is, "Are you fucking serious? This is how I go? How embarrassing! People are going to pity me for being the subject to this ridiculous accident. They're going to say stupid shit like, 'She's somewhere better now' or 'hopefully it didn't cause much pain.' 'Will this increase the value of my art?'"
We die. Live it up, suckers because you're going to die.
So, take all your Account Manager titles and your slimey Purell® brand hand sanitizer hands and do something. Make something. Love something. Go somewhere. Get over yourselves Working Heroes of America. Have a thought and have an opinion...on me.
