Viology – BEGINESIS

Have you ever locked your keys in your car and wondered what you did to deserve this shabby treatment from the “gods” that supposedly watch over you? Have you ever been defecated upon by a high-flying gull, the spatter all the more embarrassing because of the great height from which said gull dropped it’s fecal-load, and wondered why it seemed that your life just isn’t going your way? Have you ever found yourself in the depths of catatonic despair, the only temporary escape from which is in the sturdy arms of the $10-a-night hooker who may or may not, in fact, be the same gender as you, and wondered aloud how to free yourself from their inexpensive yet amorous clutches even though you’ve already made the deal in good faith with their pimp, who is standing in the filthy hallway not five meters from whatever passes for a “love nest” in the world of pimpery and prostitutiality?

These are tough questions, and tough questions require precise, elegant answers: You locked your keys in your car out of a subconscious need to turn inward, to metaphorically look inside yourself from a step back as you likewise peer into your conveyance, waiting for assistance and reflecting in said vehicle’s side view-mirror, not for fixing the part in your hair, but for fixing that part in your heart; the ejected bird-waste was only a gentle tap on the shoulder, a warning-poo from a creature more attuned to the ways of the earth, to prevent you from inflicting harm upon yourself, using irritation to alert you to the various dangers you were distractedly avoiding, not some horrific, cosmic practical joke to humiliate and diminish you in the eyes of passersby; the anguish that led you to seek solace in a possibly-transgendered whore’s arms is rooted in a feral disgust toward introspection, a need for diversion from impending isolation, and, perhaps, acute shoulder tendonitis…the kind that leaves your arm hanging limp at your side like a felt ear haphazardly safety-pinned to a plush novelty tiger from a c-grade amusement park.

This is Viology; preposterous but definitive answers to the litany of minute questions and ambiguities that threaten the solace of the Lived Life, as well as the yet-unfathomable-ness of the Unlived Life; a one-stop shop of all your psychologically intangible needs; a singular voice of acumenity to manoeuvre the wide-eyed and sloppily-open-mouthed into a world of anti-neglect and non-disdain; a place of certainty in this otherwise doubt-infected existence.

For too long, these other events have overshadowed the sacrosanct day of June 28, 1985:

• The celebration of Jessica Alba’s first year on earth;
• AC / DC released their eleventh album, Fly On The Wall and only sold one million copies – Beverly Hills Cop was released making a whopping $316,300,000 the highest grossing film of its time;
• The legendary east-west Route 66 from Chicago to Santa Monica, was replaced by a new By-Pass highway made famous in the Pixar movie Cars;

But no longer will these footnotes pre-empt the retroactive beginning of the Lived Life cycle, the fundamental inception of Viology, no…this very day, June 28, 2005, is the end of the 20-year gestation period for the one who will bring axiological dichotomy to the populace; who will bring contrast and cohesiveness, contradiction and corroboration, contradistinction and cummerbunds to the all-life Dance Party that is sure to spread like wildfires on the dried-out forest of our cumulative intellect and logic. In effect, the 20-year era of the Lived Life now has a living leader to lead us all into the Unlived Life.

Thus begins Viology.