I Blame Mythology
The God of Attention Deficit has gripped me in his sweaty palm. Not that I’m claiming any sort of disorder, mind you, only a certified doctor with framed diplomas hanging on his office walls could diagnose that. All I’m saying is that I haven’t been to the gym in a week and a half, haven’t mowed the lawn, haven’t worked on any serious writing projects, and I’ve been totally unproductive. Is implying that there is actually a God of Attention Deficit blasphemous? Probably. Or maybe it’s simple proof that I will not be held responsible for my own sedentary state. Shift blame. That’s always the answer. So I’ve been sick lately, but I can’t distinguish if it truly is sickness or an allergetical response to the blankets of pollen cascading through the air. It wraps you up, like in The Happening, the vegetation is finally retaliating on us for the sin of pollution. God, what a liberal thing to think. Either way, I won’t be hugging trees any time soon. I say cut them down. For the sake of industry. We need more buildings. More concrete. Less trees and plants means that the choking grip of pollen is less likely to get me on the canvas floor, tapping out due to peremptory black spots in my vision just before the pass-out.
In tandem, the God of Attention Deficit and the God of Pollen Count are working to make my life as miserable as possible. They are singularly against me, their focus is a point, fixated on bringing me down. That’s why I’m not a pagan. Believing in these assholes only gives them power. So while I’m inventing Gods, I feel the need to counter-balance their existence. The God of Fuck All Other Gods is who I choose to idolize. He can take down the Pollen Count God and the Attention Deficit God in one crushing blow, so I can get back to work. So I can once again be a positive and productive asset to humanity. Implicating that I was once positive or productive is hilarious to me. I should have said ‘less unpositve (yeah, not a word) and less unproductive.’ That’s a little more accurate. I’m not going for accurate, though. I’m going for ‘fake it till you make it.’ That sort of thing is where the prestige lies. So that’s what I’m going for.
Anyway, despite my lack of involvement in everyday life, I’ve been pretty busy. I bought stamps one day this week. My kids asked me what stamps were and why I didn’t just email the letter. I had no response. I went to the doctor. So the God of Spinning My Wheels was in full force. He gave me the feeling that I was at least doing something. Vegetating in front of the TV is something, too, right?
Either way, I’m sure that nine out of ten theologians agree: I have no idea what I’m talking about.
Written By: Bill C. Castengera, author of Shift! and Half Full Sign up for the free newsletter here
