"Future Direction"

"We're both 50, you and I. Whatever happens, in terms of future direction for this country, and by extension, western culture in general, be it good or bad, we won't live to see it."

I think about that sometimes, Eric. It's not a theme that I want to hit on, for at least a couple of reasons. For one thing, while I completely understand what you're talking about (in fact, I think I understand it better than you're letting on here), it carries implications that are very difficult to bring to arguments about politics. For example: in today's feminized cultural environment, go ahead and try to make the case that a man's life is a lot more than half over by the time he hits fifty. Let me put it to you this way: neither you or I are sympathetic figures when it comes to votists and public politics. We could both keel over right this instant and nobody would care. To them, we've just about expended our social value.

Besides all that, I don't think I'm quite done yet. Last week, my name got dropped into nomination to direct touring lights for a major rock band that most people here would know for decades already.

Now, it's just about miraculous that that happened. I have important friends looking out for me, but it's been fifteen years since I did work on that scale, and the reason is that everybody in the business who knows me also knows that when it comes time to pay me for what I do, there are big problems involved. There are people in the business who understand me, but that doesn't matter to the complications of actually hiring me, which have only gotten more and more bloody horrendous in the past two decades.

Here's the thing: I would kick that gig right straight in the ass. The whole setup is perfect. Right down my alley.

It's probably not going to happen. (It has to be wired by the end of the week, and my telephone remains dismally silent from the right area code.)

You know what, though? I still have it, Eric. After thirty-one years on the road, I still have a passion for this work that could shame a twenty-two year-old. I know what I'm doing and I'm really good at it.

It's really hard to consider that I'm watching all that drain away, mate.

I wouldn't have too much of a problem thinking about the kids once I was finally done, but I'm not, in the actual nature of things sorted from the ghastly political artifacts of our time.

I could still get things done, Eric. What I need is for the state to get out of my way, market-wide, and right now.

A bit of discussion from the Samizdata mess, saved here because I want it here.