Rage is generous with all its assets. Boredom is a miser, an actuarial scientist.
Tag Archives: boredom
War is the creation of boredom. Conflict is when interest is at stake.
Religious or spiritual boredom is, in fact, the most resentful of all. Devotion and zealousy are obsessive and psychotic–“its own sweet will is Heaven’s will.” Trivial occurrences will be taken as signs and these signs, read together with proper Egyptian grammar, will become ominous. The omens promise the prophet eternity, paradise, and retribution–the day of which will always arrive one day too late.
On its own, boredom merely breeds resentment, an inane form of jealousy. Bored resentment jealously imagines some other that fully enjoys what is lacking in reality. These fantasies breed violence the way a single celled organism reproduces itself: an exhaustive act, a fatal expenditure of energy that is incapable of creating anything new–it can only produce news. (Perhaps a new definition for “monotheism.”)
Confuse not boredom with its twin, idleness; the former is frustration, the latter gestation. Despite their similarities, their being identical twins, the difference between the two is the space that separates zero from one.
Her rage is connected to pain, more so than his. Her pain can be transformed into insanity easily, instantly, and totally–the way one easily, instantly, and totally dies. However, the cosmetic white light of Hollywood keeps her bored enough to only desire anger as an ornament: the egg of Bluebeard, the Secret Beyond the Door.
Less well than she, he bears pain. Yet one thing he cannot abide: (imagined) insult to (imaginary) honor. This is the heart of the challenge, the pulse of conflict, the seductiveness of the duel. It is possible for him to (really) insult his own (real) honor in his own eyes, in the eyes of his dear ones–and brood. If it were possible to change for the better, he still might not. However, “honor” has become a matter of mere accumulation (money, women, muscle, etc.). Yesterday’s hero strove for something “necessary,” that is, something with limits. Today’s hero strives for excess beyond limits, for what is “unnecessary” (e.g. professional sports).
The worst part of being injured is the boredom. By far, being housebound is a torment none should have to endure — least of all otherwise athletic and healthy young men such as myself. I miss biking without a destination, especially now that the weather is cooler. I miss doing yoga in the mornings, pullups on my door frame, and skipping rope in my backyard.
I can’t cook because when I lift my right arm even slightly, I begin to feel pain. I have been eating mostly frozen dinners. Sometimes, when my parents are home, and they’re not too busy, they will cook something good; I feel extremely fortunate. But I can’t help them with anything anymore and I feel my presence is burdensome to them (though they are sympathetic and tactful: they understand my injuries are the result of a moronic driver, not my own intention).
Lastly, I miss working of all things. My job is not great: I work at a meat counter at a grocery store. But there I have several friends, a truly kind boss, a girl whom I enjoy talking to — it is something … All I have to look forward to for the next little while is nothing.
Nothing but pain and boredom.
Thankfully, I will not require surgery to repair the damage to my shoulder. Although I am skeptical, it is a sign that things might be OK again someday.