The problem with addiction is it eats you alive but is intensely temporarily pleasureable. I want to recreate that intense pleasure. Give me pleasure. Give me more and more and more until I collapse like Keith Moon, or John Belushi not to mention Chris Farley, Jimi Hendrix, Janis, Heath Ledger, Edgar Allen Poe and potentially Shia Leboueff.
I am Eddie Pepitone and I am an addict. But aren’t we all? Hello I am America and I am an addict! Hello America. I have no days clean, and my sponsor is dead. I am a country built on the bones of the native Americans, my higher power is money , shopping, sex, drugs and soft food.
I kid America because it is my native land. We are living in the End Times. Now I know this has been said before by every generation. Take my word for it, this time it’s true. I just watched Arctic Tale about a Polar Bear and a Walrus, suffice it to say we are fucked. The polar bear and walrus get fucked because of the melting ice. And we are fucked because the oceans will rise because of the melting ice, we will be in the middle of ordering a frappucino when the ocean will fucking engulf us. I need a bigger vocabulary, a synonym for fucked is damned, condemned, ruined and unlucky, I prefer fucked.
I watched Arctic Tale in the San Fernando Valley- a dry desert, consumed with wildfires, drought and narcissism. I am measuring my food now as I am seriously dieting and in a 12 step weight loss program. I craved a peach during Arctic Tale and even though my food sponsor said don’t eat fruit late at night I did. I dared to eat a peach, even though my life is measured in coffespoons. I have lost 25 pounds recently due to no refined sugar and no refined flour in my diet. I have 55 days of this Spartan regime. Even though I must say since eliminating sugar I now appreciate the wonderful treasures known as fruit. I eat strawberries and peaches now with a passion. No more triple chocolate mousse layer cake. Watermelon makes me a dangerous man. Love it. My Sicilian grandfather loved it. Now I know what he was about.
Is it just a choice of addictions? What to be addicted to? Pick your poison? Gambling? Drugs? The Internet? T.V.? Sex? Food? Shopping? Addicted to talking about addiction? To analyzing Addictive behavior? We are addicted? Isn’t that another way of saying we are alive? To be alive is to be split between enlightenment and ignorance. Our two warring sides of human nature. But we know fucking better. I know better. I am an animal who lives at fountain and vine. I am measuring my food and listening to the dalai lama but I still want to kill. I am a beast with a blackberry. I am a creature who owns a gorgeous entertainment center. I have a big screen high def t.v. and a large hole in the center of my soul. I am a dangerous, modern southern California comic who is one bad mood away from obliterating everything I love. Even though I eliminated flour and sugar and pot and booze and klonopin from my life I am still dangerous because I am all too human. I go to the grove with good intentions but if the line is too long at the starbucks café within the Barnes and noble I have murder on my mind. We are primitive-brained modern hunter gatherers, but now we hunt and gather iphones and warmed up snickerdoodles. We are brutes in our ape bodies in a sterile, ostensibly pleasant corporate environment and we are shopping. Who doesn’t like the fucking Grove? You have to be a moron not to dig the shiny, good-natured, trolley riding, gourmet coffee drinking, fountain spewing , clothes-buying, people- watching, fresh food shopping, ice cream eating paradise that is The Mother-fucking Grove.
But what happens at the Grove does not stay at the grove. What I mean is- we buy stuff and take it back to our homes and turn on our internets and t.vs, put in our dvd’s and make sandwiches on our brand new panini presses we get at the grove. It doesn’t stay at the grove we take it fucking home. I have a panini press and sacco and vanzetti had a printing press- they got out the word on injustice and repression and I made a brie and ham sandwich that was warm. Sometimes I get angry at the Grove if my warmed up cookie is too dry or there is not enough foam on my cappuccino or if the salesperson at the Banana Republic is aloof and disinterested. I’ve had my primeval side come out on the trolley when someone bumped me or rudely stepped on my foot. My bestial side wanted to kill and all I could do was buy an ice cream at Haagen Daaz. Then I went home and jerked-off furiously to the images of the other female home sapiens who inspired my lust then I payed a bill online. I love the convenience. I am not saying I want to go back to our pre-industrial, pre-historic natural state. Wait, yes I am. I want to be at fountain and vine when instead of a kinkos there were saber tooth tigers and mastadons and orange groves. I don’t think Hollywood had gossip rags about what the mastadons did.
I stray from the topic of addictions. We are all addicts, consumers of things and stuffs and we are all in a fight for our true selves. Meditate in a temple to cure my addictive behavior? I get a bit antsy when I am around other “meditators”. I don’t like other seekers. I find seekers to be pissed off people who do yoga and meditation to avoid their real natures. You ever go to a yoga studio and have your matt invade the space of another yoga prick’s matt. I have. These people can make you shy away from bettering yourself and make you want to go shopping or eating or fucking or fighting or gambling or boozing or bong-hitting. I think we , as a nation, have to accept the fact that we are too late to stop the cycle of eating our own tails, of eating ourselves alive in order to be complete and whole. We are a nation of broken people and we can only hope to cobble together our lives in a way that minimizes the pain. If Barack Obama gets elected we will heal a little. If John McCain gets elected I will be drinking cough syrup and jerking off in peep show booths the way I did in NYC during the Reagan administration. The country is filled with violence, lust, desperation, severed connections and all we can do is watch Dark Knight at The dome while sucking down a huge diet coke and hope for a good end to all this.
The problem with addiction is it eats you alive but is intensely temporarily pleasureable. I want to recreate that intense pleasur... [read more]