Monday, April 14, 2003
Monotony. Monotony. There is rhythm. Mah. Not. A. Knee. Mah. Not. A. Knee. Monotony. There is tone. There is, lurking, tedium. There is tone. A tone. Monotony. A sameness. Tone. Ringing.
Tedium, the scalpel; monotony, the cudgel. But we expect them. We await them--tedium, monotony.
I am feverish with anticipation of my every upcoming monotony. Each morning, upon hearing my co-workers’ salutation “How’s it going?” I reply, unfailingly, unerringly, with almost holy exigence “Feeling chipper, Skipper.”
Feeling chipper, Skipper.
It does not, my response, vary. It does not waver. It does not rise or fall in pitch, expand or contract in duration, or in any other measurable way change; it does not do anything at all in any way whatsoever, other than create rhythm.
Feeling chipper, Skipper.
The modulation of my voice, over days, over months, I strive to keep constant. Cadence counts. Cadence counts. In my bathroom, at home, as I gargle with Listerine (only Listerine!), I practice: Feel. Ing. Chip. Per. Skip. Her. Feel. Ing. Chip. Per. Skip. Her. There can be no swallowing of syllables. There can be no failure of pitch. Unplanned--however minute--hesitations between words or phonemes need be eradicated. Minute hesitations that are scripted and necessary to the communication of monotonous salutation must only exist (silent as they are) in equal pitch and duration to their corresponding hesitations of same salutation on different days, and (I stress this) must exist in no other way. They must exist in a fullness of monotony that permits no obnubilation, no fraying of boundaries.
To emulate the modulation and suffixization of Don King, I strive, in my morning salutation and in my other monotonous pursuits, not for lucidity or fluidity or even for stupidity, but for an unmottled monotonal formalism. Feel. Ing. Chip. Per. Skip. Her. It cannot be otherwise.
Monotony, comfort. Comfort, time. Time, tedium. Tedium, tedium. Tedium, tedium. Copious tedium, obnubilation of signifier (see below). Obnubilation of signifier, entertainment. Entertainment.
This is the matrix of personal satisfaction. This is the cri de coeur of the bricoleur. This is the flowchart for mental eradication of boredom. Follow me. Monotony. Anemone. Parsimony.
The words, the conversations, every day, have tone, a tone, one tone. In our relations with others, we seek to replicate tone. Civility. Words. Monotony. Patina. Ecco Homo. Monotony. Civility.
Until, finally, briefly, for one moment, we are blasted by the atonal. The heightened sweetness of the atonal word—the logarrhythmia—or even (however rare) of the atonal exchange of multiple words, is the goal of those who pursue monotony.
Pursue monotony. Relish the atonal. Obnubilate signifiers.
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