Metaphor Meets Reality
I smoke. You probably don’t. That’s ok, although increasingly less so.
We all need to understand smoke more.
Most importantly, here anyway, is that smoke is the ultimate symbol/metaphor for the de-humanizing complexity of our dying worlds. This site hopes to address and, wherever possible, attempt to deconstruct the clouds. (This is not a “pro-smoking blog”, although it could and possibly should be.) Is it any accident that the very word ‘cloud’ has found new usefulness and meaning in internet parlance? (cloud marketing, tag clouds, etc.)
Hence the burgeoning, maddening “fuminosity” of our planet.
Information is all smoke. Its purveyors are smoke-filled rooms. Every hyperlink, every channel, every electronic corner we turn…more smoke. (Consequently, we are all ‘smokers’.) This is fairly important to understand, one might think, as increasingly all we really are is information, as sad as that may sound. I struggle within this precept, and I know you do also. Things that we are forced to accept can still be fought against (or have you not seen the greatest TV show of all time?)
The “meat of the matter” is now the endless, ever curling, puffily diffuse remains of a zillion fresh info-carcasses screaming softly into the wind. It’s no wonder we are so starved for something ‘real’ to chew on. Is it any wonder we don’t trust anything we consume (literally or figuratively) anymore? Smoke is something that was real and is no longer. It exists and doesn’t exist in the same moment.
QUESTION: What is NOT smoke? ANSWER: Actual smoke!
Why? Because actual smoke is real – it has weight and mass, flavour, influence, character – smoke is always at the best parties!
Real smoke can be trusted.
You can use smoke, enjoy it, run screaming from it, marvel at it from a safe distance, be inspired from it – but real smoke is always at least proof of its own ingenuousness and authenticity.
And yet we continually purge (or worse, allow it to be purged for us) actual smoke from the ritual of our lives…at great loss to humanity.
Real smoke has always given us a foundation for ritual, and ritual has always been a fundament of human existence; the context for communion of all kinds, the clinking of glasses or the gleeful phenolic smack of billiard balls. Smoke, in this context, was/is a shared tent for collective souls coming in out of the hard rain of existence for a moment or two. We are all fundamentally changed now as it drifts away…
As life becomes recklessly electric and human ritual devolves into spasmodic chaotic interface devoid of meaning…we all suffer. Often we don’t even know why.
So, anyway….let’s get off our collective asses and open a window here and there, and embrace our fuminous selves.