Checking In and Checking Out
It’s uh… been a while, it’s been quite a few weeks to exist within. Existence in general and existence in America. And I find myself thinking about some of the lyrics of Harvey Danger’s “Flagpole Sitta” from 1997 which sometimes plays on a loop in my head and oddly I’ve only written about one other time on this blog.
I’m not sick but I’m not well
And I’m so hot ’cause I’m in Hell
In 1997, this banger just spoke to my soul. It was a karaoke staple for a while when my voice could handle it, and the main line of “I’m not sick, but I’m not well.”1 always felt so apt. And it continues to feel that way. What’s wrong? Nothing… and yet everything’s wrong.
I had visions, I was in them
I was looking into the mirror
To see a little bit clearer
The rottenness and evil in me
I’ve said from time to time that, at least since 2020 but definitely more recently, reality has just felt broken. But as Dr. Crusher famously said, “If there’s nothing wrong with me, maybe there’s something wrong with the universe!” You usually have to reach that level of introspection first, but when you read the news for even a moment, you quickly realize, “Nah, it’s not me.”
Been around the world and found
That only stupid people are breeding
The cretins cloning and feeding
And I don’t even own a TV
This one just feels like a callback to the opening of Idiocracy where they show a “highly educated” couple that puts off having children while “less educated” people have no such qualms. But these days it feels more like there are organizations that are specifically trying to keep people unenlightened about the world around them.
We already had news networks devoted to feeding their viewers a highly curated plotline about the state of the world, and now with the new administration, the fear of reprisal has nearly every mainstream news source backing off from writing the hard hitting stories.
I’m not sick but I’m not well
And it’s a sin to live so well
This just taps into my own guilt for feeling OK despite everything going on outside my window. I don’t have it so bad, all things considered, I admit that. I’m employed, I’m housed, I’m fed, I’m clothed. I have enough to have a little treat every now and then. One of the hardest things about policy change is that for a lot of people it isn’t an instant “this will affect you overnight, but it will affect you eventually” thing.
I wanna publish ‘zines
And rage against machines
Have you noticed how many zines are suddenly back in circulation? Not that they ever went away, but it seems like now, more than ever, people are publishing advice that goes beyond self-care to safety, health, and still some escapism into fiction and poetry, but it’s clearly an underground thing that’s gone from using the office copier to just laying out a quick PDF at home and throwing it online.
I’d like to turn off time
And kill my mind
Yes, please. Not in a “I don’t want to be here anymore,” way but just like, so much around feels broken, can I just not for a little while? The joke of not wanting to be hurt badly, but just enough that you get a little hospital stay, enough anesthetic to just check out for a little bit. Maybe wake up after a few hours, or the next with a very hopeful “What year is it?” vibe.
Paranoia, paranoia
Everybody’s coming to get me
Just say you never met me
I’m running underground with the moles (digging holes)
Thing is, it’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you. (Look, I know it still is, but shush.) At this point, paranoia feels like a healthy response developed as a reaction to an administration that came in with a plan to eradicate your freedoms, period. And I don’t blame anyone for disappearing, logging off, or just checking out for a bit.
There’s a character Mark in the series Severance and when we’re first introduced to his after-work life, he just sits on a couch, drinking beer and falling asleep to the TV. Totally zoned out. I can 100% relate. Aside from taking action to make dinner, most days I log out of work and a completely unremarkable span of time passes and then it’s bedtime. I’m watching comfort TV, I’m playing video games, I’m not really going onto social media. I’m just blank because I literally can’t even.
Hear the voices in my head
I swear to God it sounds like they’re snoring
But if you’re bored, then you’re boring
The agony and the irony, they’re killing me (whoa)
I don’t think of my internal monologue and soundtrack as “voices in my head” but I do miss being bored. I miss being boring. I miss the days when I didn’t have such extreme reactions to talking about politics and technology that I now have to pause and take a deep breath before I feel like I’m going to rant. When is felt like the most important decision I had was, “I wonder where I’ll stop in for a drink after work?”
I’ve now listened to “Flagpole Sitta” three or four times while writing this post and it has been a bit of a balm for my soul. Overall things are just OK lately. Nothing too bad, nothing too great, just OK. The thing is, I walk the tightrope of remembering when they were better while also fearing that they’re going to get way worse. It’s bad stress for any of us to be going through right now.
It had been a while since I put digital pen to paper so this was nice to organize some shower thoughts (while singing “Flagpole Sitta” of course) into a blog post. We’re on the Friday of a long holiday weekend, so I’m hoping for some good streams, fun times, and good conversations with a friend. I’d love to say brunch is in the forecast, but it’s a holiday weekend and one in DC, so… good luck getting a table.
Regardless, stay safe, enjoy the sun and cookouts, and hang in there. This is more of a relay race than a marathon, we’ve all got to support each other so that we all make it to the finish line. 💖
- I wish I had had the fucking sense to change the name of the song. “I’m Not Sick But I’m Not Well” is what everybody calls it. And if I had done that instead of thinking it was somehow less artistic, less honest, or whatever, to change the name of the song after we had already played it in front of the 87 people we were playing to in those days, we’d be having this conversation on my yacht. — Sean Nelson ↩︎
