I seem to have lost the ability to get right royally pissed off at things that I see on telly or on news websites on the web. Perhaps the last few months the news has been ordinary with nothing to raise my hackles. I’ve tried and tried and tried to make myself indignant and I’ve gone out of my way to watch absolute detritus on the television in an effort to get annoyed enough to rest my digits on the laptop keyboard and write. Day after day I have perused my anger Viagra, The Daily Mail, and have remained totally and frustratingly impotent. Nothing. Nada. Diddly squat. My righteous indignation has transmogrified into contentment and that’s a bugger when the whole “raison-d’etre” of your blog is expressing a healthy disrespect for things that you observe.
It’s only in the last few days/weeks that my red cells have begun to bubble again heading inexorably to boiling point. Drip by drop stories have given rise to a festering sense of malevolent disenchantment at the world in which we live and the way that current affairs are reported with half truths and downright lies spoonfed to the masses. We have also seen those in the public eye makes statements that are crass, offensive and moronic in the extreme. It’s true that the usual suspects have continued to do their level best to ruin my equilibrium there have been many new entries to my “Hit Parade” of irritation. So what do I do? Do I write a dirty great list of just what it is that has pissed me off or is that an exercise in futility? No I’m not going to do that. I’m just going to write and try to make some sense as do.
Maybe my thoughts on the news are just theories about how things are reported but they are my theories.
So where do I start? Let’s get this party started with Mr Donald Trump. Ah, Donald, Donny, Don; where indeed do I start? This is a man who has contributed towards the destruction of the ozone layer by means of the ridiculous amount of hairspray he uses to enable the world’s most idiotic combover. He’s been involved in a Twitter spat with with Russell Brand. Now before I continue any further I’ve got to say 2 things here.
I like Russell Brand
I don’t like Donald Trump
Russell went on TV in America to talk about his book. Donny Baby obviously got the hump with the way Russell was criticizing major corporations so he fired off a Tweet that showed his rapier like wit and massive intellect. So what did he say? He called Russell a ‘major loser’ and the whole world was left reeling. That was okay, but when Russell retaliated Chump sent messages to Russell’s ex wife which I think is borderline trolling. I have already said that I don’t like Donny Baby Chump, but beyond the fact that I don’t like him, I believe him to be dangerous. Taking to Twitter (again) to refer to President Obama as a ”psycho” is of questionable morality, libellous and incendiary given that many Americans distrust Obama for no other reason than the colour of his skin.
Mr Obama should perhaps sue the slaphead for everything he’s got.
Ciao For Now
These days we’re all slaves to technology. All of us. I mean, how many of us don’t own a smartphone or some kind of MP3 player? Every home has the ubiquitous microwave oven and flat screen TV. The thing is, are we any happier for it? Why do we constantly need to upgrade “things?” We upgrade or replace “things” before we need to. Up and down the country I’m willing to bet there are smartphones sitting neglected in drawers and cupboards because they are “old” models. Not because they don’t work, but because they are not the latest new one that’s packed with features that we are conned into thinking that we need.
I’m writing this on a laptop. Yeah, you probably guessed that, but did you stop to think about what kind of laptop Denbow uses? You may think that it’s a sleek new MacBook or a state of the art Sony, if you think that then you’re wrong. The laptop that I use is a six years old Lenovo X200. The speakers don’t work properly anymore and there is a load of insulation tape holding the screen in place after our dog Daisy got bored and decided to have a little chomp on the screen. Does it matter? No, it doesn’t matter. This laptop does exactly what I need it to do. It gets me on the interent and it has Microsoft Word so I can write things. Would a better, newer laptop do those things any better? Well, what do you think?
What I’m getting at is we live in a disposable society. Everything we own eventually gets chucked away, often before it needs to be. We replace our “treasures” thinking that we are spending our money to get something better. Very often we aren’t; all we are doing is indirectly lining the pockets of the admen and directly lining the pockets of major corporations. Does 6 gig of ram make Twitter anymore satisfying or Facebook more tolerable? Why do you want a mobile phone (and that’s what they are – telephones) with a 5 inch screen? Yeah, you get one not because you want one but because your mate Dave has one and you’d be thought of as a twat with your old HTC Desire S. We spend our lives acquiring and grabbing and wasting money and emotion buying stuff. Some people get a quasi sexual thrill over their latest purchases and I think it’s because they have nothing in their lives deep down.
A few years ago I saw a pseudo number plate on the back of some tasteless gross Jeep that said “he who dies with the most toys wins.”
Ciao for now,
I’m scared. In fact I’m more than scared, I’m bloody terrified. I’m terrified that my one little hobby is buggered up my my own inability. The drive and desire has, for the moment I hope, gone. I write about 350 words, read back what I’ve written and either delete half an hours worth of work or leave it to rot in a folder on my laptop. I shouldn’t be scared, I should just wait and not worry and when I have something to say then power up the laptop and get stuck in.
That’s what I should do.
Naturally I won’t, I’ll just carry on writing and try to work my way through this bad patch and hopefully write something vaguely worthwhile, about people you know? I’ve been thinking about people. People in general I mean – the way people in general or at least some people in general react to some stuff, generally. (You can tell I didn’t do any English exams at school can’t you?) I think it’s a trait that must affect a good number of people especially those with access to the internet, television and radio. It’s my view these people have nothing better to do than sit in front of their laptops staring at endless loops of the planes hitting WTC 1 and WTC 2, the Zapruder film and anything they can get their sweaty little paws on about the Apollo moon landings.
That’s for starters.
We can then think of the UFO-logists, the USO-logists, the Crypozoologists, Ancient Alien theorists and fans or rather disciples of David Icke. Oh yes there’s the armchair criminologists, the amateur detectives who pore old tatty documents to prove or disprove something from the past – usually something that no one really cares too much about. It’s not as if they’re searching for the *Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything* (it’s 42 by the way) is it? So why do they do it?
There are probably lots and lots of theories why there are so many people out there who are Conspiracy Theorists usually emanating from American Professors with so many qualifications and letters after their names that they believe that every word they individually utter is fact and every hypothesis that isn’t in line with theirs is truly utter bollocks. Do I have a theory about why there are Conspiracy Theorists? Aside from the fact that there are many sad deluded wankers out there who believe any old scientific horseshit spouted by an “expert” (usually a former something or other who’s probably been busted from previously gainful employment) that they see on YouTube – no not really. Nothing that I would call earth shatteringly definitive anyway. In fact my thoughts are just as bonkers mad as some of the conspiracy theorists’ ideas on assorted and sundry stuff.
My thoughts and beliefs are based on evidence just as spurious as the evidence used by Conspiracy Theorists. I refuse to test the veracity of my evidence and I will not permit it to be analyzed empirically. If I allowed that to happen then my evidence would be twisted and manipulated by the Conspiracy Theorists which would then be a Conspiracy against me. Then a whole new sub genre of Conspiracy Theorists would appear on the scene to investigate the “cover up” and discrediting of me proving that the Conspiracy Theorists are to be considered nothing more than a sad bunch of burger chomping losers with terminally bad skin and/or a drink problem (and certainly no girlfriend) There’s a book “Voodoo Histories: The Role of Conspiracy Theory in Shaping Modern History,” by David Aaronovitch that I really should read if I’m going to keep going on writing this type of debunksional bollocks. However, I saw him on the TV the other day so that’s pretty close and I do have a copy on order from that t’internet. That makes me an expert as to why Conspiracy Theories are bollocks.
They are bollocks – each and every one of them. The “theories” work and enthrall Conspiracy Theorists for exactly the same reason we *normal* people watched “The Evil Dead,” “The Exorcist” and “Nightmare On Elm St.” It’s the same reason that people ride roller coasters, bungee jump, skydive and even ride the waves surfing. It’s for the buzz, the fear. For the Conspiracy Theorists it’s the buzz of finding and indeed believing that shady powers have been playing sleight of hand tricks on the population and exposing these shady powers for what they are.
But, and it’s a big but, if one of these Conspiracy Theories turned out to be true, and some dork with a baseball cap was about to reveal all that he know my bet is he would end up slightly dead. They know this, it scares them but it’s a dear that would make them feel more alive than they’ve ever felt.
If Conspiracy Theories didn’t exist then we’d have to invent them would we?
Ciao For Now
I normally find writing to be easy. I usually have something that I want to share or go on and on and on about to the point of ennui. I suppose I’m a bit obsessive like that. Some people have me marked down as a depressive, or bi polar, but they’re wrong. What I am is someone who is a leading expert on blowing things up out of all proportion. It’s just I feel that by and large I’ve run out of things to say. Whatever doesn’t help is the fact that I have spent far too many of my evening when I return home from work doing pretty non productive things.
One productive thing I’ve been doing is reading and listening to audiobooks. The audiobooks are a collection of the works of Alan Bennett, the Talking Heads series and I’ll be moving onto The Lady In The Van once I get past those. I find the Talking Heads plays or monologues if you like to be clever, witty and very very perceptive. It seems that Mr. Bennett can crawl into the psyche of middle aged women with an effortless ease that a tubby little Yam Yam can only envy. So much so I’ve written the biggest part of one myself. It’s probably rubbish and highly derivative rubbish at that, but there you are. The problem for me is, that what I’m writing/have written is a 5 or 10 minute piece to camera or microphone (as in a radio play) that needs a woman’s voice. I’ve had a go at doing it myself but I just can’t do it, I sould ridiculous trying to do an old woman’s voice. I could “demo” it for a woman to perform under my direction (Orson Denbow anyone?) but unfortunately I don’t know anyone, anyone at all who’d do it for me.
On that score I’m back to the drawing board so I may have to just right click and select delete and book it down as a bad job all round. However, it occurs to me that I should try to write the same sort of thing, you know using that seed of an idea and try to write something like that. The idea of trying to write or complete this novel I’ve been hankering after writing just seems like too much bloody hard work and let’s face it, I’m a lazy bugger. At least with doing a “Talking Heads” type thing I could just talk to my iPad and then write down the dialogue. I’m really good at talking, spectacularly good in fact.
This brings me rather clumsily to my next (maybe final) The last few weeks have been shit. Really shit in that there’s been some issues, shall we say, that have made my life somewhat difficult. Extended family problems sort of thing. What dropped me in the excrement was telling the family (I believe in honesty) about me wandering about stark bollock naked back in July. Kids laughed at me, wife won’t even broach the subject. It does seem now that the whole thing has disappeared into the background a bit and they think I won’t do anything like that again, I just won’t tell them next time. Oh yes, forgot about the point I was going to make about me being a chap who is good at talking. My daughter is getting married on 20th September and of course it fall to me as Father Of The Bride to make a little speech. This is not to be an unsubstantial wedding and the thought of getting on my back legs to put my oratory skills to the test was scaring me to death. Note the ”was.” I desperately didn’t and don’t want to let her down on her big day and felt nerves on my part were going to be a massive and insurmountable problem.
That’s part of the reason I did what I did back in July. If I can put myself into that type of situation and stay in that situation for a few hours, then getting up to say a few words should be a breeze.
Ciao For Now
Am I a believer? Am I atheist, agnostic or religious? I would have to say that I am none of those. When it comes to religion I merely abstain. I refuse to be drawn in the melting pot of religious dogma in any way shape or form. Besides my own views on the matter are intensely private and remain hidden under a cloak of invisibility and evasion. Besides when it comes to matter spiritual it is none of your business what I think and neither is my place to make even the smallest effort to impose my ideas and thoughts upon you. However, society as a whole imposes its ideas, thoughts and conventions upon you even if you are not aware that it does.
We have things in our society that are considered “normal,” conventional is another word that could be used. There are many “normal” things that a chap of my age is supposed to do. By definition there also must be many “normal” things that I really ought not to do. I’m not famous, I have a normal job, I live in a normal house, I have a normal wife and family. I would therefore be considered normal. However, am I normal? Now that’s not a question that’s loaded with self doubt or psychosis it is a simple question. That is where the problem starts. You must see that question is very difficult, if not impossible, to answer. In order to work out whether I’m normal then a definition of normal must be agreed upon.
Okay so think about this for a moment, this normal business. For the sake of argument suppose that I decide to have a tattoo. Remember I’m in my 50s and have never had a tattoo before and I decide to go the whole hog and have one of those full sleeve jobs. What would people think? Would that be considered normal with a soupcon of midlife crisis? What about if I started to paint my finger nails and toenails and get a touch of fake tan and bleach my hair? Would that be seen as another last desperate act of an aging man?
As I am Mr Normal as stated earlier both of these things would be seen as stepping well outside of the box, but given modern fashions and the acceptability these days of tattoos I don’t think anyone would really take that much notice about a full sleeve tattoo. What about the nail varnish and the hair? In my opinion people would think I’d well and truly lost the plot. If I combined the two I think that I’d end up in a padded cell. Why should that be the case? If I was a rock star would anyone blink an eye? Why is it that rock n rollers can do stuff that Mr Normal can’t do and dress exactly how they may wish and get zillions of tattoos and wear make up and paint their nails? Is it simply because they have to live up to the Mr Rock Star image just as everyone else has to live to the Mr Normal image?
I think that is really the case. We all have to wear uniforms and we have to wear them all of the time. These uniforms mark us out, they illustrate clearly what we are and to an extent what we do. Sadly there is very little that we can do about it unless we can find the courage to buck the trend and break free of the social norm. Of course there are a few people that do just this but can make themselves unemployable or conversely looked upon by the world as complete and utter wankers just because of their station in life.
Ciao For Now
Thanks to @ModalConfusion for planting the idea for this post in my mind.