God’s Work

Women, being at once the ideal and paradoxically the consolation, the raison d’etre and easily forgotten, but in fact more important, raison de mourir, have long been the most natural subject of the Image.  The Image, being so powerful, is forbidden in totalitarian cultures, or even more sickly, replaced entirely by aspiring idols.  There is no evading this truth, whether you humbly mounted pinups like your father’s father or cover half the population of your social group in dyed muslin as a res ipsa admission of the same iconic desire.  The great failure of many current Americans is not that they fail to acknowledge this truth despite an image-mad social sphere, a truth which is unavoidable no matter what you do and will find you in your most hidden, private places, but that they do it by kneeling to the disturbing stream of furtive internet porn, in a subversion of the public self to secrecy; a mortal self which is best and only briefly realized in the Other, where it is seen and exists.  The days of long legged goddesses in your mechanic’s shop, your poker club’s wall, or even lovingly hand drawn on your Flying Fortress were so much more healthy for humanity, if only for the lack of secrecy, prohibition, and denial.

I don’t know what pin up I would put up or where, with the walls of my apartment already crowded with souvenirs, but I am going to take down a dried up image of a South African village, painted cheaply and joyously on tree leaves by its locals, one of the last remembrances of my best friend’s wedding in Johannesburg.  Time has past, and he has not seen me in a long time. What picture of God’s work will I mount, you ask?

Well, it’s going to be the amazing effort of Doug Hull on heads up cbetting textures vs. an almost absurdly tight, top heavy calling range. Kind of an anti-Old Man Coffee battle plan, blown up in full scintillating Office Products color.  Ok, maybe not exactly inspiring to the libido, but nevertheless, the detail put into this by Mr. Hull is well worth consideration, and pretty damn sexy to the professional poker player.  Its explanation is hidden behind a pay wall, as all good things should be, but the image itself is available to the, gasp, public.*

Yes, many of the best things are hidden in plain sight.  I mean, you don’t have to study this stuff to win at poker, but consider this: somewhere, someone is.  If that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, you might just be a real player and have a future in this absurd field.  In fact, I don’t think I can imagine a better litmus test.

The content of the single Excel sheet, scarily enough, is really only the beginning.  It’s a model of understanding for one rubric of action.  When I was young, I imagined a massively complex mobile, its strings connecting and therefore explaining human history both causally and genetically.  The books, I found, were just too linear.  Nothing could be retained or completely explained.  You’d have to cover up my entire apartment with variations on Doug’s poster to get such an imaginarily complete understanding of cbetting situations.  Nevertheless, the base model speaks for all the varieties very well, and my mobile is best left to the endless time horizon of tenured conceptual artists and the humbly revolutionizing hyperlink.20151202_164941

When I first learned of Red Chip, I caught details that made me very sympathetic to Mr. Hull.  He had lived in Boston, a grand, genteel bitch of a city, and referred to moving out to Vegas with his Girl.  A sad story, it seemed, but one I could sympathize with.  The mother having left this nerdy engineer and cardsharp degenerate in a silly hat, he was bravely making it with their child; a true father and man.  When he mentioned coaching his Girl, and then playing with her at the table and taking advantage of others’ distracted interest in her figure, I was a tad nonplussed, but I supposed it was the nature of the beast.

However, when I got to Vegas, I was informed that Girl doesn’t mean Daughter.

So much for that beautiful image.


* I am not sure about this any longer, and after all, why should it be available for free? -P, July 2016

2 Replies to “God’s Work”

  1. Are you suggesting that it would be preferable to kneel to the disturbing stream of internet porn conspicuously and in public rather than furtively and in private?

    1. Well, that’s not the argument, but that is an interesting train of thought. The argument is that the lack of societal acceptance for whatever the needed spiritual and sexual representation is, has the effect of driving the libido and self underground and into strange places where it does worse, such as heavy pornography or radical religion. I would say that an imaginary society that was full of exhibitionist mastorbators probably would be full of dissenters secretly worshipping virtue, which is just another imbalance and not what I am advocating.

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