Jargon can be redeemed through wit. If you can leverage suit-speak or
geek-speak to get you some elbow-room, then there are synergies abundant to
be partaken of. But bullshit baffles brains, and it's the wielding of
unwieldy terminology by mediocrats that really puts the dampers on. Anyway,
ninety-something percent of everything is crud.
There's nothing wrong, qua romance, with the romance of decontextualised
creativity. I would even say in the name of cold, fearless realism that if
it doesn't decontextualise somewhat, it isn't creativity. Nobody wants to be
ventriloquised by a context. I don't have much time myself for the romance
of the close-at-hand. The canonification of the dungaree-clad bricoleur is
about as pernicious as that of the newborn poet-mage smiling beatifically in
a shaft of heaven-sent radiance. I've never found anything worth writing
about within six feet of me: I occupy a bubble of impenetrable banality, and
have to really crank up the Imagination if I want to have anything at all to
say. Chacun a sa merde, I think.
Dominic
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