This is a picture of my cat, I Zimbra. He is a “Maine Coon” cat. If you know me, you know that I love him. I do not have the mental energy to write about my awesome cat right now. I’m just not feeling writing at the moment in general, which I think is “THE THING” that is keeping me from writing about my cat - a very important figure in my life and therefore have much to write about him. I think I have mentally exhausted my writing faculties (hell, I don’t even know if “writing faculties” makes any damn sense) because I have been working on a paper that I am getting published in the Journal of Judgement and Decision Making. It is a paper that has to do with judgement and decision making. That’s why I submitted it to that journal. Make sense. Oh but hey, as the words at the top of this page would suggest, I don’t wanna make sense. I’d write about it in this venue at some point in time, but now’s not that time. I mean, I did mention it, but only in passing. I can further elaborate at a future point in time. This point in time may take minutes or hours. I am not sure. So this point may be of varying sizes.
Oh well, fuck it, I’m gonna talk a bit about my cat now cause I mean, he’s just chilling on the ottoman that’s in front of me to the right looking all cute and shit and I am just thinking about him anyway so yeah why not just go for the gold and write some stuff about my roommate who doesn’t pay any goddamn rent and just totally freewheels on me and I even feed him (albiet gross food that I wouldn’t eat) but he’s just so damn cute and shit that I am willing to do it anyway, in fact I do it willingly. Given this stuff, I will write about said furry creature.
So I would like to tell you why I named my cat “I Zimbra.” It makes a lot of sense. Actually it makes a lot of UN-sense and I’ll explain why. “I Zimbra” is a Talking Heads song. David Byrne (of Talking Heads…) took the dadaist artist Hugo Ball’s sound poem and messed with the lyrics a bit to turn it into this pretty dope song - it is very great. So, dadaism is all about destroying aesthetic preconceptions. Basically, its core message is that the highest, purest form of art is anti-art - something so inventive, innovative, original, whatever that it might be completely gibberish, nonsense, fucked up shit - BUT THAT MAKES IT REALLY FUCKIN ARTISTIC. So what’s the point? THE POINT is that YOU are supposed to give meaning (with your own unique experiences, feelings, etc) to the nonsense yourself, independently from the influence of “The Artist” or “Society." SO, the lyrics of "I Zimbra” are meaningless. But the song derives its meaning from meaninglessness.
This idea applies very nicely to my cat, as I really have not a fuckin clue what he’s thinking about and “meow” in various pitches basically all means the same shit to me. I don’t think he really knows what the hell he’s doing either. I mean, he just lies down on the ground somewhere. Then he gets up and lies down somewhere else. Then he gets up and repositions himself. Then he jumps up on the kitchen table and chills there. Then HOLY SHIT! I come home and I bought some fuckin groceries so I have a goddamn paper bag OH MAN then my cat just POUNCES on that shit and goes fuckin crazy like WHOAAAA THERE IS A BAG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT HAS NOTHING IN IT!!!! BUT IT CAN HOLD SHIT! (DAOIST STUFF RIGHT THERE! but my cat doesn’t know about Eastern religion…I mean, really…) So yeah, you get the point. My cat doesn’t really do much besides walk around, lie down, eat, and go to the litterbox. The best part about it is that my cat doesn’t even fucking realize how “pointless” his “meaning of life” is - HELL, those things don’t mean shit to him. He only knows how to say “meow” - I don’t think he can comprehend such existentialist matters that plague my existence every day (I do not currently know the “meaning of my life” or “what I am going to do with my existence”… just as an FYI!) And despite all this so-called meaninglessness of my cat, I REALLY think he’s a fucking boss. I heartily adhere to this statement. He’s awesome. I don’t even know if he gives a shit that I think he’s awesome. I don’t care though. Because without trying very hard, I give my cat a “purpose” and “meaning in life” - WHICH IS PRETTY DOPE! So, in a quite dadaist nature, I Zimbra’s meaning comes from his pointlessness. That is, my cat does not have a purpose, other than that he is there for me. You, too. He’d be there for you too. He’s a pretty sociable fellow. He probably isn’t the slightest bit aware that he has this trait. But that goes with the territory of being a cat and all. So yeah, I (or you) give my cat meaning that is not inherently there or proscribed specifically by society. This, in fact, is very dada-like. Or at least I think so. So that’s why I think I Zimbra’s name is very appropriate. I do call him Zimbra most of the time though. It’s a lot less syllables (percentage-wise), thereby less awkward to say out loud. Sorta like why people call me “Chloe” and basically never “Chloe Leia” cause like, that’d be strange. But I wouldn’t judge you poorly if you were to do that. I would just think you were pulling some dadaist shit on me! Just kidding. That wouldn’t really make sense. But then again, I do not like making sense (re: the “title” of my tumblr).
