Big Troublems

Big troublems. Another neologism (shmism), this redundant portmanteau is redundant. Invokes, it does, a certain 'je ne say what?' post-modern/meta-modern/whatever-modern why does everything have to have a prefix now anyway? vibe. Maybe its because nothing is new. Maybe its because we're not very good at thinking about the contemporary – not the modern which apparently took place a few hundred years ago to some other ponies.

But we've got big troublems.

Existing in an apparent ideological void with no positive morality,

we nevertheless strive heroically. Or maybe just watch TV.

All the while whirling in indecision and impotence.

We know there must be something worthwhile in this world, we search desperately for this thing, we hear it calling us, we tell it: “I'm never gonna give you up!” as we face the batterings of repeated failures and entirely figurative broken dreams. Patterns emerge.

I hate metaphors.

People use “rollercoaster”

For every damn thing.

And so we brave the snowstorm, hoping that out of chaos some order might arise. Patterns emerge. Or just something to hang onto. Humbled, we accept that this world is defined by its complexity, and settle with the bittersweet prize that if we work hard and play nice we might just understand a little more than we did when we were born.