sadooing

Fukky's always happy to share excerpts of sadoo communications. This week, some selections from recent sadoo missives about the art and aimlessness of sadooing.

the common human thinks my life and thoughts strange, but my orientations are simple and reasonable:  i aim to exist as little as possible in the ostensibly normal worlds – the worlds of money, society, ambition, pleasure – in order to make myself wholly available for sensations to manifest in me, which i then translate into words, attempting to mold the form and content of those words precisely into the experiences of the sensations.  thus much of my life is waiting, experiencing, translating, molding.  i wish to leave behind records of the sensations of a life.  this is my experiment and why your names and prizes have never held much interest for me, for these often seem to have more to do with conformity than creativity, middlingness than talent, blind repetition than unbounded experimentation.

words for a sadoo have less to do with meaning and more with sound and sensation; they are natural expressions of particular modes rather than expressions of utility, beauty, or concept.  so a sadoo lives, breathes, and words – and no more meaning is to be imparted to one of these activities than any other.  that humans typically associate breath with life and words with cognition, analysis, and meaning is odd to the sadoo.  fish swim, birds fly and chirp, humans talk – language is just the sound humans make.  so a sadoo who writes sees its experience of writing as making natural sounds and feels no need to conform its word choices, its grammatical and syntactical structures, its cognitive and narrative flows, to any societal or aesthetic convention but only to its modes in the world at the time of writing.  truth is as far from language as it is from potatoes.

if my writing as a sadoo seems strange to the normally enculturated citizen, this may be in part only because the normally enculturated citizen seems most strange to the sadoo and – being born into this world and being forced to some extent to have to negotiate with its extremely odd customs and proclivities, so often unquestioned, reified by the average human – so its sensations will not infrequently deal with its movements through the comedies and horrors of the barbarisms, absurdities, tyrannies, and infantilities of the dominant and frequently assumed human conventions, values, mores, and grammars.

so death is often central for a sadoo, hardly from any morbidity but due to the heavy disjunctures it must embody to live inescapably in an alien land and the weariness that comes from having to speak in foreign tongues and translate from its natural languages of joy and freedom into syntaxes and dictions that feel caged, regressive, small.  yet since i have seen the thousand disguises on your tyrannies, i devote as little energy as possible to you.  i do not care to be understood.

the bulk of citizenry are enculturated – this the slow incarcerating process of education – to conform their patterns of thought and behavior to increase the likelihood of social functioning and maintenance of the economic order.  a sadoo has little investment in this functioning and maintaining and so doesn’t feel chained to expected ideas and lifestyles.  if this should leave sadoos rather melancholic and outcast, this isn’t because they envy the bulk, but only because they too, being housed in human form, enjoy some society, and yet must reconcile themselves to being primarily solitary, as freedom of expression and movement is more valuable to them than any arbitrary or enforced objectives of happiness, comfort, or pleasure.