NICHOLASWINTER.COM

It is my extreme honor to provide for you, my audience, two free mixtapes by Neil Douglas (Funk Advisor). Click on each album cover to download. Check him out on Last.fm and let him know what you think! Thanks Neil!
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul

If I had to be in a cult, I'd be in that cult where they drink Corona and listen to generic party music and worship the sun. And when the sun goes down, they turn the music off and hike over some mountain. And when the moon comes up the generic party music resumes and we start dancing and drinking more Corona. P. much sun/moon worshipping and beautiful actors. That's the cult for me.

It is fascinating that man can come up with a word for a concept that does not exist. That concept must be perfection.

There are different kinds of perfection to be sure, and a completely perfect being would possess all of these perfect attributes.

Physical perfection, mental perfection, ethical and moral perfection, etc.

perfect

adjective |ˈpərfikt|

1 having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be : she strove to be the perfect wife | life certainly isn't perfect at the moment.

• free from any flaw or defect in condition or quality; faultless : the equipment was in perfect condition.

• precisely accurate; exact : a perfect circle.

• highly suitable for someone or something; exactly right : Gary was perfect for her—ten years older and with his own career.

But since what constitutes a flaw or defect is subjective between individuals, countries, races, etc., the concept or idea of perfection is a king of self-mutilation, a kind of pain brought on purely by one’s own mind. From the very first breath we take, we are imperfect. And a perfect being stands to have an unblemished record of perfection.

So what do we use the word “perfect” to refer to? Things we’ve never seen, people we’ve never experienced, deities we have no tangible relationship with. The idea of perfection is the albatross around mankind’s neck, and it is truly remarkable that we, as a species, can come up with words that mean nothing.

A word is meant to point at something, a word is meant to be a marker for an emotion or an event or a person or a place; the word “perfection” serves absolutely no purpose.

And because perfection is so subjective, I could make a case for me, Nicholas Winter, being born a perfect human, being perfect throughout life, and when I die, my death will be that of a perfect man.

A fascinating interview in retrospect.