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A little peace and quiet is its own game, in a sense. I've done enough ducking out, laying low, and running halfway across the country, to avoid situations that appeared complicated and intense just because they were noisy and full of annoying static. And not once was it not a conscious, perhaps lamentable but entirely conscious, decision to get the hell outta Dodge.
That's magick, though. Situation goes stressful and inane and you can't stick around for fear of despising the world and the world despising you, and an old friend shows up knocking at your window, 'Hey, you want to go to Canada for awhile?' And a suitcase and a big coat later, you may be broke down seventy miles before the border, but you can still outsit the situation back from where you came until it all blows over.
That's just an example, but that sort of ducking out magick is all over. That's what long walks are for. Or finding the most repetetive work you can do at work, and zoning out while your hands go on autopilot. Daydreams and the sappy movie night you set up for yourself where you watch Benny & Joon, The Princess Bride and Sabrina back to back and pretend the world's not knocking on the door. Old friends and park benches and the memory that when it's all destroyed it more or less the same looks and smells as if it weren't destroyed.
You can always step out, and you can almost always step back in. The trick is figuring the smoothest methods and the best times to do so. I mean, we're seeing a bit of that right here, with the marvelous interwebby ideaspace of the Barbelith Underground, yeah? Sure, nine tenths of us are all just Grant Morrison banging away on sixteen keyboards at once, but we're all responded to, all treated under social codes and mores that have not a great deal of reflection in our meatspace countries of origin. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune with no group gardens, not enough acid, and we're actually squatting on Tom Coates' property or something, but five five words or so it sounded real good, right? That's the magick killswitch, not, y'know, a Destrudo Gone Wild DVD in fastforward. |
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