this is a bit of a sequel to my 'first as Tragedy, then as Farce' thread that attempts to apply Marx's quote to the framework of romantic relationships.
the connotation, at least for me, implies that the Farce is worse than the Tragedy. for in Tragedy, something better could have happened. but in Farce, all is lost. so I've been thinking. and it isn't good thinking: perhaps the very tension of the situations I define as 'Tragedy' were all that I wanted in the first place? take this from a diatribe that I wrote my most preferred sexual object in June 2010:
"and even if you put all the chips on the table right now, I'm not sure that I could do it."
four days after my grandmother died. total trainwreck and trainwreck of a situation: spend a night with a smoking hot woman who you have had before and now is in the possession of another man, only there with you because she 'feels bad' that my grandmother died? is this not the ultimate pleasure-in-pain? and, worse yet, is this what I am doomed to chronically seek?