It’s an old phrase but I have, in my life, failed to find a better combination of just 3 experiences. These three most definitely add up to more than the whole.

Analysing it each of the things kick up one sure-fire flag that they are fun. Plenty of people disapprove of them. But it’s the combination that works incredibly well. Replace drugs, for instance, with yoghurt and it all kind of falls apart.

Or, alteratively, sex, drugs and Yanni… it would need to be a lot of drugs. Going to the Post Office, Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll lacks a certain something although it might make an amusing story later. Leaving sex out of the three is just ludicrous anyway.

Sex, Caring for the Elderly and Rock ‘n Roll somehow lacks some of the joi de vivre that drugs bring to the party and could get you in trouble if anyone filmed it… Although there is the possibility of stealing the drugs from the elderly but that just takes us back to Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll, anyway.

Trying to knock up another three that more usually go together and offer the same level of excitement doesn’t seem to work either. Daytime TV, Ironing and Crisps, for instance, doesn’t compare terribly well. A movie, popcorn and loud people two rows back annoying you doesn’t come close either. Not even a little.

And let’s not forget that there are so many variables in Sex Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll that you are unlikely to run out and get bored before you die of an overdose, syphilis or a dislocated Tibia*. So, no loss there, then.

The only true leeway does appear to be in the selection of music although Enya or any one- man- band is always a mistake, especially live. He always stares. Enya would just send everyone to go into a coma, and that’s what the drugs are for. Funk would probably work, too, as would Latin but it would be important to match the music up to the right drugs.

Remember, sex between 2 people is a beautiful thing, sex between 3 is fantastic!

There is a reason what was promoted in the 70s has lasted through the test of over 30 years. Admittedly, we laid off the oily hair after a short while because it sucked but they couldn’t get everything right, could they? We owe a lot to a generation that reminded us, after all the crap of the Victorian era, what partying was all about.

*- a town in Sudan, I think.

Dave, 33

April 20, 2007

It had been a strange year. 33 years of skating over a frozen pond, skimming over the world, unaffected and always in command and then, in the 34th year two cracks formed. Two pieces gave way and twice I was plunged into cold, unforgiving waters.

The second was depression, the war of my life. Prone to madness, my family, and I got off lightly I suppose. One schizophrenic uncle, a gaggle of suicidal aunts and grandmothers, nutters perched on every branch of the tree. It was a fight I had always won. Sometimes a little too easily, perhaps. It is when you lose your fear, in my case my only remaining fear, that you might succumb. Fear is healthy, it exists for a reason.

I was never scared of dying. Never of pain. Never fazed by dislike or revulsion. Always happy to make the tough decision. Never afraid of never being loved by anything but a pet. Not scared of poverty. Never titllated by speed, wrenched by heights, nor threatened by the malicious and vicious. Afraid of only one thing and that was losing sanctuary. Everyone needs a place of sanctuary. A place of calm. Of control. Stability. Home.

I lost my mind.

The second crack. The ice gives way and down you go. It’s an odd thing, losing your mind. In my case, losing it to depression. When people talk about unhappiness, about grief, about that wailing, crying, sobbing, drizzy mess that comes with loss few realise that they are, at that point, nowhere near true depression. Crying is cathartic. Grieving is love.

Depression is empty.

That was the surprise as I dropped through the ice and sped down to the bottom of that world. How numb it all feels. How coldly logical everything seems. How detached you are from everything tactile. It is not like sorrow, don’t confuse it with sorrow because sorrow comes from yearning, as does melancholy. The smart, smarter than I, know to cherish those emotions. The depressed yearn for nothing. Cherish nothing. Air. Water. Fire. Tea. Sunshine. Friend. Oblivion. All are the same to the depressed.

With sorrow and grief and pain there is still you. There is still some driving force that can think of a better life. That can remember having one in the past and is desperate to have one in the future. To the depressed there is no sch thing, no reason to get out of bed, no reason to change the channel. There is no reason to turn on the television. You can’t anyway, there was no reason to pay the electricity bill…

The second crack. The second time drowning. Just enough of me left somewhere. Just a voice in the background not content to slip into oblivion without just one more final try. one more push. One more chance. A tiny voice had the sense to take control of the voice chords and scream “help”.

That was yesterday.

Enjoy a lower cost of living- because you’re not!
Guaranteed no suicidal tendencies if you fail a year!
No sports and, hence, no jocks to deal with.
Smell more, care less.
Discount clothes from ‘Zombies r Us’

A wide range of extra curricular activities…

Enrolment in the “Thriller Re-Enactments’ and the Neverland Ranch
Weekend ‘extras’ trips to Hollywood.
Scare-O-grams

Free eulogy with every enrolment. Urn of your choice with “don’t discriminate, hire post-cremate” sticker and complimentary dustbuster for those awkward family moments…

33 places already gone… apply soon.

I have been waiting for a psychological backlash to the most shallow generation in history: the tweeny label- whores from hell. What we may come to see as the “bling” generation.

Sucked into the advertising mire more than any generation in history. People have sought guidance and self- definition through the ages from Drugs, Religions, Warlords, Pacifists, Prophets, the Famous and the Fatuous. This was the first to start to look to possessions for guidance. The pendulum always swings back and forth and, as usual, at the tip of the conservative end of the swing was an annoying war that finally sends the pendulum back. It has been building, though, for quite some time and just needed (mixing my metaphors badly) a trigger.

I remember well this from fight club, Tyler Durden: Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who’ve ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War’s a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.

Born in the 70’s I have been through the swing away from the Love, Liberalism and Peace of the late 60s and early 70s to the money- orientated conservatism, large hair and bad pastel suits of the early 80s, through the grunge gender anonymity and unshaven women of the late 80s and early 90s and on to the vicious capitalist label feeding frenzy of the turn of the century.

This global warming thing we finally noticed (I did a school project on it in 1984- took the governments of the world 23 yrs to catch up to a student who spent less time in class than George W. does at work), of course, will not be stopped and I wonder how, at the tip of the green touchy- feely renaissance the other end of society will spin things and what they will place on the table to get society to start the swing back towards conservatism.

Will recreational space flight be it? Immersive computer games to get away from the mess when people get exhausted from over-caring? Or are they smart enough to have worked out enough ways to market the new green movement in such a way that they can profit from it? I think so. I take all 3 but in reverse order.

Looked at dispassionately neither side of the swing has any better claim to sanity. From the one side of rich warmongers and authority to the poor vegan touchy- feely side there is plenty of nonsense. But if there is nonsense to be had I prefer the pendulum at the point where we stop caring too much about possessions, allow dull people to take drugs to make them more interesting, stop caring too much about our jobs and start enjoying our sexuality more but women still shave their armpits.

Pools have a shallow end and a deep end. So, sometimes, do I.

how to lose more friends and alienate more people

This is a further reaction to all the touchy- feely crap on facebook that drives me up the frikkin wall. It’s worse than mutated sea-bass instead of sharks. Here is an alternative to the “If you have an ‘i’ in your name you are the best kisser” stuff that makes me want to hurl.

K- You beat up the aged.
E- You pop drugs and then get kindergarten kids to take your urine tests for you.
V- You like to eat babies.
I- You are self- centred.
N- You pick your nose and then eat the contents.
– You look stupid when you dance.
M- You do not wash your hands after masturbating.
A- You secretly film people when you have sex with them.
R- You have rabies.
S- You have misshapen genitalia.
H- You like it up the bum.
A- You secretly film people when you have sex with them.
L- You do shit to alienate people.
L- You do shit to alienate people.

– You look stupid when you dance.
A- You secretly film people when you have sex with them.
B- You are Bulimic but, thank God, also thin.
C- People call you names behind your back.
D- You have syphilis and you smell bad.
E- You pop drugs and then get kindergarten kids to take your urine tests for you.
F- People genuinely care about you.
G- You are more gullible than people with an ‘F’ in their name.
H- You like it up the bum.
I- You are self- centred.
J- You are adopted.
K- You beat up the aged.
L- You do shit to alienate people.
M- You do not wash your hands after masturbating.
N- You pick your nose and then eat the contents.
O- You only care about money, really.
P- Your parents never loved you.
Q- What the fuck do you have a ‘Q’ in your name for? Cunt!
R- You have rabies.
S- You have misshapen genitalia.
T- You dress badly, no matter what your friends say to your face.
U- You call that a hair style? Fuck off!
V- You are Dutch, German or Afrikaans and no-one likes you, not even your dog.
W- You are a computer engineer.
X- You are from Lichtenstein and your father was a goat.
Z- You are still a virgin and it shall always be thus.

Feeling Stupid

April 8, 2007

If you have a day where you are feeling a little dumb. A day, lets say, where you have written your first ever predictions column for a sports magazine and got everything, against all odds, horribly, terrifically and spectacularly wrong. To feel better and have restored to you some sense of intelligence and cognisance above that of a lemming, brick, politician or talent-show judge one need only to turn to the news.

Intelligence and stupidity are, after all, comparatives. So what is happening that I can compare myself and my various vagaries to out there in the world that will make me feel better?

Well, there are the people who think we can really do a damn thing about global warming: they’ve lost their minds. Even if we had acted when we first discovered the concept in the late 70’s the odds of reversing or controlling it were small. Only a nuclear winter could stop it now, maybe, possibly, probably not, actually… someone call George W. We need a decider!

Then there are the people who are convinced that we have a clue what the result of global warming will be. They’re gormless too. It could get hotter, it could get colder, it could cause the Alien Lizards controlling our world to finally bugger off because the climate no longer suits them leaving the world in a state of love, peace, harmony and skimpy bathing suits.

I feel a little better already.

Then there are people who think the war in Iraq had anything to do with anything other than money. The Americans that think George W. did the right thing when he invaded Iraq and, as well, the ones that think he did the wrong thing. Americans in general, in fact. With the exception of the ones who watch (and understand) The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. And a friend of mine who drinks too much and is fun. And some of his friends. Maybe.

Anyone who is reading the book “The Secret” right now and believes any of the words contained within with their tiny, little brains- except for the word “the” which is used in an entirely truthful context in the book.

Kissing in public is illegal in India and they haven’t made their government to overturn the law, so that’s a billion people being stupid over there. 90% of all people who trust any statistic given to them ever are completely retarded, so I feel much smarter than them, too.

Everyone ever who believes that planets revolving around the sun have anything to do with whether they “are going to have to make difficult personal decisions on Thursday” and, even worse, that believes that if this were true the person who knew the system would be writing a magazine column for minimum wage instead of ruling the entire planet or owning Starbucks. How thick.

So I might have been off a little in some fun predictions in a news column. So what? Look at the world out there. They are insane.

I feel so much better now.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/asia/article1624022.ece
http://english.pravda.ru/world/americas/88836-3/
http://www.badscience.net/?p=392

The perfect gift

April 8, 2007

The perfect gift for the person who has everything… including you listed in their will.
suicideduck.jpg

click for larger image