dear fukky

dear fukky,

i’ve travelled around the world many times, built successful careers, amassed great wealth and possessed countless lovers, raised successful and well-adjusted children, and won the booker and pulitzer prizes for my fiction and poetry.  i’m now thinking of becoming a sadoo.  do you have any advice for me?

jaruna

dear jaruna,

advice seems unnatural for sadoos; we by nature are born into avolition and indecision and thus any advice not only spontaneously and inexorably calls forth its opposite, but its myriad partially overlapping possibilities.

let me say this another way.  there are many professions that are difficult and every profession includes its fair share of difficulties. sadooing is different. sadooing is impossible. how does one provide advice about the impossible? perhaps we could speculate that the best art is primarily about this – the impossible – but the best art is what it is by avoiding advice.

look at our ostensible namesakes – sadhus.  while they’ve lost a certain credibility in modernity, at least among swaths of urban sophisticates, they still generate substantial respect, emerge from hinduism, a recognizable and ancient tradition, and – at around 5,000,000 – participate in a large and often cohesive community.

but sadoos! we have never even gained credibility in order to lose it. being unseen as what we are, we generate neither mockery nor respect. unable to belong to any tradition – sadooing is a word, like dao or god, that is a gross compromise – it flounders, lost, indifferent, polypolar, drowning in the refuse, trapped in the weeds, in unmapped moats around time, emergent from nothing. its community is dispersed without ever having been gathered – have sadoos even met one another let alone themselves? the do in sadoo is a mockery! – sadoos don’t do; at most, being in bodies, they necessarily doo. they are not sea-doos or ski-doos, they are sad-doos – hardly depressive in that reductionistic and fragmented western clinical sense, but desolate and solitary in those other senses.

sadoos are undeveloped and experience undevelopment as a form of development. they wander not to or from or through or even of but wander. would you be this thing you cannot be? would you become what is an unbecoming?

soft and empty regards,

fukky

aero floroj

sadoo presents itself to me as a word, a lifestyle, a vocation, a meaning, a hope, a turning and returning, a de-hope – a religious word and presence.  now i would not start a religion, i would not begin a new formality of ascetics:  vows and robes and prayers and rules.  the world has had enough religion.  it has had sufficient formalities.  and yet, being dissatisfied with both religion and world, with god and humanity, with temple and mall, with spirit and money, i seek another way and i call this way sadoo.

fukky has explored elsewhere the morphemic attributes of sadoo – its relation to sadhu, its doo and sad and adoo.  these are not for here.  here is for expressing sadoo as a way of religion that decreates religion, a way of god that kills god, a way of asceticism that revels in sensuality, a way of vows that knows no vows, a path of humanity that is inhumanity, a techno-orgy that sets aside technology, a deep ecology that is neither deep nor ecological, and a sensuous secularism that is also a mystic spirituality.  for while fukky hardly admires any infantile projections inherent in past gods, any tyrannies inherent in ecclesiastical institutions and rites, it hardly thinks their replacements are any better!  look!  infantile projections inherent in present people and things!  tyrannies inherent in institutions and rites of knowledge, law, governance, business! commercial priests of the psyche replacing commercial priests of divinity!  and, presently, with over 7.4 billion humans and almost each one wanting it all and wanting it now, how can we call anything past or present or planned anything we might respect or want to be?  children!  why be so constrained by the crush of convention when in the human, somewhere, clearly, another crush arises like a vision of a flower in the air?

while sadoos aren’t a consensual bunch, while they avoid committees and protests and parliaments, while – even if talented at policy – they sidestep policy, statements, manifestos, laws, accords (except at times for play and subterfuge), various themes emerge as not uncommon among them though rarely if ever would any one agree to all or even fully with any.  ideas are feelings and i am the universe and the universe, like all things, hides.

• the societal and cultural structures humans presently live within may be necessary as controls and outlets for our historic and present situation, even as war and factories and pollution and abuse and boredom may be necessary, but through this necessity they unduly are oriented toward primitive modes of existence that hardly favour sadooing.
• while the human at its extremes excels at certain activities that non-humans do not, non-humans also excel at certain activities that humans do not.  sadoos see no reason the human has any privileged position to assume it can use whatever powers it might have to remove the powers another human or non-human might have.  the human is just a particular configuration of contextual possibility, and so sadoos are oriented to learning the languages of many things, to listening to clouds and night as readily as art or news.
• there are presently too many humans on the earth and too many of these want too many things.  while clearly related to the bullets above and below, it still needs to be said.
• oriented to play, sensation, absurdity, decreation, emptiness, subversion – while not denying seriousness and those other things – a sadoo wanders in wandering and wandering is what it wanders in and a sadoo moves.
• the sadoo can be a daoist, ecologist, buddhist, yogi, cyclist, artist, pastafarian, pataphysicist, ice cube maker, but it is harder for a sadoo to be a capitalist, humanist, or scholar.
• all environments exist in the soul and sadoos, while they may specialize in various environments, are curious about them all.
• a sadoo might sing on the toilet and shit in the choir, but this only has meaning for those who don’t.
• a sadoo is made of eyes.  it walks on eyes and sleeps on eyes and counts eyes, and counting’s never done.
• sadoos are addicts, but to everything and so in this everything become sadoos and sadoo becoming.

this is what fukky has to say about sadooing until the next time sadooing has something to say.

fukky speaks a little of bio-music

Today, i, Fukky, self-proclaimed administrator of communities of sadoos, some speaking Esperanto, some in chains, some high, many barely of this world, this world of simian celebrations and judicial seriousness, dumps dumps and shares this with the world.

Let sadoos everywhere do doo-doo likewise.

And also today we welcome Manfred L. Eaton into our community.  Thanks, Manfred, for your contributions to sadooing.  May we all speak only Esperanto and bio-music, and the rest of the time shut our silly mouths.

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.

what's a sadoo - annual life tips

part 2 of fukky's

annual 2015 sadoo survey!

our 2015 annual survey was distributed by mule, pudenda, astral beam, and instagram to sadoos across the galaxies.  the survey was simple, containing ostensibly only one question; the question too was simple.

considering you are a sadoo and a sadoo is in the world the way words are in each other, how do you live? what tips do you have for other sadoos? any particular suggestions for living a long and happy life?

here is a small sampling of our responses, with the hope that sadoos everywhere will be edified and the non-sadoo population will continue to be confused and inarticulate.

1. a question always a question, its nature ever shifting, its modes murky, perpetually non-definitive
2. present, tentative, and disappearing
3. moving, without moving
4. voluntary poverty
5. shared and minimalist footprints
6. anonymity through false – and so true – namings, these faces of words
7. solitude and silence
8. community and engagement
9. identification with no system, exploration and acceptance of all
10. a muddling of moralities, ideologies, singularities and clarities
11. spontaneous appearances of opposites to the present presentation, with neither balance, resolution, choice, neither comfort nor discomfort presiding, …
12. imagination to re-awe awe
13. darkness not as a path to light but a path to accept darkness
14. eros and thanatos in radical and continuous multiplicities and indistinctions
15. the bathtub as a way to negotiate and subvert oppositions between conformity and protest
16. lists endlessly list
17. bodies are texts, texts are bodies
18. vinegar tastes neither sour nor bitter but sweet, salty, savory
19. vinegar may taste sour or bitter but sour and bitter are good when they exist as tastes among many tastes
20. rather than know things in my mind and influence my body to accept this knowledge through volition (whether perceived to be internal or external), substances (whether perceived to be legal or illegal), or other means hardly interests me.  what interests me is knowing things in my body and having my body express them, with as few intermediaries as possible, in words, gestures, actions, signs, stillness
21. this topic – shall i call it a topic? – has such vast archaeologies to it (archaeologies of time, space, memory, relation) that if i should summarize it in 11, 17, 55, 182 words and you draw a conclusion from these words, as if they were some summary – the only sufficient summary is silence - ?
22. now that enthusiasm has left me i am more filled with the divine than ever
23. ecstasy as a perpetual recycling of the mundane
24. darkness in all things
25. named in namelessness, namelessness in named
26. exploit oneself as readily as others, the other
27. it is neither darkness nor light that is ecstasy, but the constant movement between them.  it is not beyond good and evil, but the pitching and moving one’s tent between them – these non-existent spaces
28. the nowhere is here
29. the desire and capacity to escape by means of the knowledge of there being no-escape
30. past lives are not other lives but this life
31. nature and madness!  yet everything is written as if neither existed!
32. all these people arguing this or that, traveling here or there – they are scared of death
33. i believe i said what needed to be heard, which is a form of belief
34. the desire to not-desire, non-will to will, are stronger than their opposites by including them
35. so many arguing for nature haven’t yet sufficiently explored the nature in themselves.  until you know well your own desert, jungles, meadows, oceans, streams, mountains, tundra, forests, winds, storms, calms, stars, abysses, until you can wander in each and migrate among them with ease – how dare you speak for nature?
36. you know i am a proponent of freedom and the individual and there is nothing harder – for being pliable – than freedom and the individual
37. to wake up feeling suicidal, to eat dinner in unmitigated bliss – and to give these feelings – to give no feeling or idea – any more credence than a fart:  might this be the beginning of wisdom, should it exist?
38. i do not seek love. i do not define it.  therefore i can experience it at any moment

and i, fukky risotto, compiler and editor and administrator and voyeur of and in this universe of sadoo management, extend my non-desires and desires that the above tips and sentiments may assist sadoos in sadooing in a world, though vibrant and polymorphous, often given in instances (and often in conglomerated instances) to monism, certitude, supremacies, and oppositions.  may they bring plurality, doubt, rolling spheres, and vast atonal harmonies in subversion and cooperation to a warbling and polluted planet and, yes, even to themselves in their infinite deserts.