Writing and booze

A friend from college — no, that’s not right.

A friend who went to the same university as I did, and with whom I became friends later, recently sent me a podcast. As one does. “One” here meaning “not me” because I would never send someone a podcast. I’d lend them a book, sure. But I digress.

I’m not sure quite why he sent me this particular podcast. He may have known what I wrote my MA thesis on (the temperance movement), but I think it a little more likely that it had to do with our shared Methodist heritage (in his case YMCA, in mine WCTU). In any case, the subject was booze. It was a good interview, and perhaps I’ll even read the book (LIE. No I won’t. Why? Because podcast. This is why I don’t send people podcasts, duh. So that they’ll actually read the damn book. Anywho…). The basic premise of it being that the reason why we all love booze so much is that it unlocks the prefrontal cortex, the impulse inhibition, the executive function, the superego, the fundamental machinery of logical control over our mental processing. And in doing so frees up exactly the kind of artistic and creative energy that only works when it is free and unfettered.

An attractive thesis, to be sure. And one that comes to mind as I review some of my recent posts and realize “Wow. I have absolutely zero memory of writing that. But it’s good!”

Does this mean I should drink more regularly? Probably not. Among other matters, when I do I’m not exactly the best dad in the morning (groggy, non-responsive, slow to make the oatmeal). But also, it involves a leap of faith that I won’t actually post something unforgivable. Something so wildly inappropriate that surely someone will screenshot it later blackmail purposes.

Because that is always in the back of my mind when I write these posts. That even though I’m pretty dang sure no-one is listening, “pretty dang” isn’t “absolutely.” And if I wanted it to be “absolutely” it’d be a written diary as opposed to a blog.

Because who fucking reads books these days when there are podcasts to pass around?

Published by A garrett renter on Welbeck St.

An online diarist, because writing longhand just seems so tiring.

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