Primo Levi on Hat Tilt
The great Italian poet and author, Primo Levi, once wrote:
What a very few are acquiring in knowledge of the physical world will perhaps cause this period not to be judged as a pure return of barbarism.
Oh Primo, finding optimism in a world gone scrote. I wish that I could agree with you.
But then I see this. And even the curves of thigh on the hotts are not enough to validate the worth of humanity.
So I crack open a bottle of Night Train I bought from a surly old Korean Deli owner near Wilshire. And I snack on some tasty Hostess snack cakes.
And gradually the dissonant noise of global club culture, the shouting of woos, the pollution of the boobies, the garish garb and shaved chests, all slowly begin to fade and defocus into ambient background noise. Spectral wash. Meaningless abstract detritus to be tuned out and ignored. Like construction work outside your window. Or the joyless rituals of American Idol.
The chaos recedes. The skies open up. And a rain comes and washed the hair gel away.
Like Primo Levi, I find joy where I can.
Because there’s always hope to be found, even in a world of hat-tilted designer White Sox caps. There’s bluebirds and boobies. Sunshine and suckle worthy thighs. Classical music that transforms the spirit and uplifts the soul, and fantastic butts on 19 year old coeds.
I sip my ‘Train, and stare at the setting sun, and all is right in the universe.
