4.5.09

on bliss: the love and folly of ignorance



By Samuel Saint Thomas.

It’s raining. I’m mousing Google wasteland for bliss. Perhaps there’s some hope loitering in the nothingness. Click. Sephora offers the lovely Bliss brand in various existential flavours. Fatgirlslim, sandpaper in a tube to wipe away clingy pudge. $29.00 thanks. For the Brazilian pubic waxers, there’s a 50 pack of Bliss Ingrown Eliminating Pads, an ingrown hair lump and bump nixer. $38.00 please. And truly “…beyond your wildest creams,” Youth As We Know It, the one stop freshman facelift, $79.00 shipped free.

Click. Over in Clifton, NJ, is Bliss the lounge, Bliss the club, Bliss the den of all blisses produced in pink and Merlot tones behind beats spun from vinyl pumped through 92 knob mixers and Sennheiser Turbosound. Blissful adjectives lure the bliss-hungry set: “Alice in Wonderland… high saturation… savvy… sublime… moving heads… and the not to be missed, Open-Lips urinals…” Corporate and group Bliss also available.

Next link? Click on Shop and Live In Bliss Furniture, Fort Bliss: an Iraq training camp, an estimated 12 bands called Bliss, Bliss: the marriage therapy movie, Hershey Bliss, Chris Bliss: Smart Comedy for the Information Age. No shortage of bliss. Just over 7 million keyword hits. More than two for each American. Yet, true bliss is void of thought. Ignorance. Thomas Gray said that. A thoughtless sea of human urge. I said that.

Yet, Gray notes, wisdom is a very foolish endeavor. Foolish or not, I am driven to indulge. I often think I'm very happy, happy to be o-so-fucking-educated. Happy with bugs eating my dead skin in bed. Happy knowing that all meat rots in the stomach before it gets to the exit. Happy knowing that all chins must sag. Happy that Sauvignon Blanc is washing my brain cells down the pisser. Happy to commute in sucking traffic to impart happy knowledge to sucking students with their brains in the “this sucks” position.

While I’m certainly over the notion of stayed joy, as stupid as bliss is, I need a little to keep me going. On occasion, a lot. Ben and Jerry will do. Some battered onion rings awash with ale. A sweet cigar. Belgian chocolate truffles. A merry go round. Butter, lots of butter. Sunburn. Music at 110db. Maybe 115. And alcohol. Yes. I like my friends smart, sexy, and funny. They need all the help they can get. I need all the help I can get.

NOTE: Links provided purely as a convenience to the reader and not as an endorsement of Bliss, the notion.