They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. It remains who 'they' are or whether 'they' are simply unidentifiable and therefore infallible. Either way, I think poetry is a more telling portrayal of one's demise and delerium.
Evol Intent - Flipside:
I've killed myself I've been born again,
With razor fangs for these bitter men.
I'm filled with rancor for my fate,
I've clothed my soul in these rags of hate.
As I fall down on these bloody knees,
Perception shattered, now I see.
Intoxicated in hindsight, I'm going to get you on the flipside.
Yes folks, it's one of those days. Where the sun comes up, the rain comes down and you don't even notice because you're too caught up in your own happymess.
Running after Roland
When was the last time you fed the ducks without the company of a little person? By that I don't mean a vertically-challenged-but-just-as-equal humanoid, rather a person who has yet to grow up to be a real, life-sized, person and is still in the stages of innocence and bed-wetting. Maybe a better question would be when did you last watch the sun rise? Strange questions I know, but not altogether bizarre. So much of what we do nowadays is about where it will get us, goal orientated for those of you who understand management-speak. But what about if you're the goalie, holding it up for the rest of the team because you're not quite as fit as the rest and to be perfectly honest you just can't be arsed? Goalie's get a rough ride in life.
Work-life balance. What! How dare they? It's like telling a goldfish that it should have a productivity to existence ratio! To which any sensible goldfish wouldn't reply. It basically comes down to getting you, the beautiful, sensitive, intelligent being, to work harder. Cracking the whip, you might say.
I was listening to Radio 4 recently and heard a program about people who'd bought their own islands. The idea was generally the same: escape the rat race, set up island, enjoy parties with the local women clad in hula hula skirts and peeling one's grapes. It didn't work out this way, believe it or not and most of the breakaways sounded more like Man Friday than, "Man, it's Friday!" They were also a bit narked at all the hard work that went into building one's dream home on an stone in the middle of the turbulent Atlantic ocean.
There are alternatives. One can, of course, join a commune, become a monk, start a farm or work at a university. However, these lifestyle choices are often short ventures because they are so far removed from normal life and so extreme. If our neighbours were more open to different ways of living and we were not economically shackled from birth there would be more scope for the evolution of modern society and the development of the soul. We can but dream.
So take a minute out to admire the beauty of nature, then get back to work you lazy sod!
Evolution's Crack
“Oooga booga boom boom”, said the young boy.
“Zogg zogg”, replied the wise old man.
Imagine being transported back to an era, way back in the depths of time before the advent of computers, before the invention of the combustion engine, before the miracle of Sunday roasts, before Sundays even. You are living in a cave. People around you are shifty and hairy, rather resembling the rabble that emerges from the pub after closing time. These people are your tribe, your family and yet your main form of communication is through mono-sylabillic grunts and body language. What would you do? How would you cope?
It is a well known theory that much of our behaviour stems from the instincts and survival patterns of primitive man. I’ve tested this by staring into a naked flame for longer than is necessary, and scaring myself senseless by adjusting the flame. You see, back in the good old days when a trusty spear was a man’s best friend and the biggest problem posed from the neighbours was a fatal attack from the Sabre family, we as humans were fairly well adapted to meet the daily demands of life on earth. We were active and healthy, or rather those that stayed alive for long were, and we were intelligent enough to make tools to enable us to catch something for lunch and survive through the night.
Now, however, we are a bit of an evolutionary joke, though creationists won’t see the funny side of this. They’re routing for a joker god who hides dinosaur bones so there’s no point trying to trump him. The fact of the matter is that not only the strong survive. There is no rhyme or reason to our genetic path. We have no heroes who have developed powers for the sake of bored people to watch jumping forwards and backwards in time in a quest to save the cheerleader. There is no bearded old man up there in the clouds who is watching us and thinking quietly to himself, that yes, they’re very naughty but it’ll work out alright in the end. Basically, somewhere on the road trip we got lost as a species and instead of heading back to where we lost our bearings, we camped out, had a picnic and never left! For those of you who do think that evolution runs the show, I’ve got a question for you: just how well are we adapted to our environments? It is clear to see that our nations are getting fatter. It is also apparent that the power to weight ratio of a gorilla is slightly higher than that of your average human. I would also like to point out the practical impossibility of lifting a massively overweight caveman out of his bed using a barney-rubble styled crane so that he could be taken to the local witch-doctor for treatment. With this in regard, I think it’s safe to say that humans have not evolved physically but devolved. Mentally it’s a different story, we hope.
Worldwide communication, graphical user interfaces, plumbing, calculus, cacti, creation stories, these are some of the wonderful things that we can do using our minds. We are now able to converse with people across the seven seas on a regular basis and have the mental capability of forming relationships with people on such a widely ranging spectrum that no one really knows what will happen if you add suchandsuch to your facebook account. The point I’m making is that we have this ability to do amazing things with our minds, some of which we haven’t even figured out yet.
If we look at the purpose of our species we enter a dark and perilous realm of philosophy that is not usually entered unless accompanied by a mind altering substance. But if we look at the purpose of an amoeba we see that it lives and replicates and dies, not necessarily due to any divine plan but because it can. Yes, the evolution of the species may depend on efficiency and energetically favourable transactions but in the long run none of us is going to be around long enough to know who finishes in first place. It can and it does, simple.
“Zogg zogg”, replied the wise old man.
Imagine being transported back to an era, way back in the depths of time before the advent of computers, before the invention of the combustion engine, before the miracle of Sunday roasts, before Sundays even. You are living in a cave. People around you are shifty and hairy, rather resembling the rabble that emerges from the pub after closing time. These people are your tribe, your family and yet your main form of communication is through mono-sylabillic grunts and body language. What would you do? How would you cope?
It is a well known theory that much of our behaviour stems from the instincts and survival patterns of primitive man. I’ve tested this by staring into a naked flame for longer than is necessary, and scaring myself senseless by adjusting the flame. You see, back in the good old days when a trusty spear was a man’s best friend and the biggest problem posed from the neighbours was a fatal attack from the Sabre family, we as humans were fairly well adapted to meet the daily demands of life on earth. We were active and healthy, or rather those that stayed alive for long were, and we were intelligent enough to make tools to enable us to catch something for lunch and survive through the night.
Now, however, we are a bit of an evolutionary joke, though creationists won’t see the funny side of this. They’re routing for a joker god who hides dinosaur bones so there’s no point trying to trump him. The fact of the matter is that not only the strong survive. There is no rhyme or reason to our genetic path. We have no heroes who have developed powers for the sake of bored people to watch jumping forwards and backwards in time in a quest to save the cheerleader. There is no bearded old man up there in the clouds who is watching us and thinking quietly to himself, that yes, they’re very naughty but it’ll work out alright in the end. Basically, somewhere on the road trip we got lost as a species and instead of heading back to where we lost our bearings, we camped out, had a picnic and never left! For those of you who do think that evolution runs the show, I’ve got a question for you: just how well are we adapted to our environments? It is clear to see that our nations are getting fatter. It is also apparent that the power to weight ratio of a gorilla is slightly higher than that of your average human. I would also like to point out the practical impossibility of lifting a massively overweight caveman out of his bed using a barney-rubble styled crane so that he could be taken to the local witch-doctor for treatment. With this in regard, I think it’s safe to say that humans have not evolved physically but devolved. Mentally it’s a different story, we hope.
Worldwide communication, graphical user interfaces, plumbing, calculus, cacti, creation stories, these are some of the wonderful things that we can do using our minds. We are now able to converse with people across the seven seas on a regular basis and have the mental capability of forming relationships with people on such a widely ranging spectrum that no one really knows what will happen if you add suchandsuch to your facebook account. The point I’m making is that we have this ability to do amazing things with our minds, some of which we haven’t even figured out yet.
If we look at the purpose of our species we enter a dark and perilous realm of philosophy that is not usually entered unless accompanied by a mind altering substance. But if we look at the purpose of an amoeba we see that it lives and replicates and dies, not necessarily due to any divine plan but because it can. Yes, the evolution of the species may depend on efficiency and energetically favourable transactions but in the long run none of us is going to be around long enough to know who finishes in first place. It can and it does, simple.
The Celestial Court
Now that the elementary first blog is out of the way I would like us to take a step back (make sure you look behind you first) and look at what is going on here. I find this helps in all walks of life and although we don't always find answers, we're always better off after a bit of a think and a nice sit down.
So, what's this blogging business all about? Typically I find blogs to be self-important rants on just about anything, kind of like talking to an irate grandparent who is emphatically aware that this planet we live on is "not like the good old days" and just wants to grumble. That's alright by me, as long as I am not chained up and forced to listen to non-sensical drivvle which would probably make a man want to wear his pants on his head and put two pencils up his nostrils claiming insanity and an overdue holiday. In a way it's good for people to vent whatever they need to, be it lunacy, rage or the gaping abyss of emptiness that comes of growing up in a culturally defunct, sub-urban background. These are personal blogs of the lowest order, beneath the lowest common denominator, these are just bundles of debris that are shot out into space and there should be an international agreement for blogging like there is for space junk. Eventually it might just come back and bite you, with jagged pointy teeth in a soft and wobbly place. Technical blogs have a focus, there is a point and a line joins up the dots to make a picture. Pictures, I think you will agree are nice. But a young person with a sharp biro is a dangerous thing.
I think another problem with blogging is the position of authority that a person feels when sat comfortably in front of a keyboard. We have a need to find purpose in our lives and part of that is finding our place in society. Now this is nothing new. Galileo told people that the Earth wasn't the centre of the solar system and some people didn't like this clever fellow so told him to shut up or get locked up. He didn't know his place in relation to il Popo and was forthwith never allowed to leave his house. Before that a bearded fellow named Moses climbed a big old mountain called Sinai and, obviously pretty tired from his troubles and a bit dehydrated from rambling in the desert, had a little chat with God, then came down with a list of commands, a handful of plagues and led 'God's chosen few' out of the desert culminating in the dilemna that is modern day Israel. You see? This is what happens when people get big ideas, big ideas that won't fit in their boots.
So this week's theme is knowing your place. Knowing that you are not the work of a benevolent higher being that has toiled for millenia just to hear what you have to say about their mistakes and misgivings, which has to be a good thing. Scientists might tell you that you are made from wind blown particles made in the cores of celestial bodies, star dust. I think it's also pretty funny that we are an infinetesimally small blip on an otherwise non-eventful universal radar. There are laws and errors of margin that the cosmos does not allow and depite a tight grip on everything else we seem to have slipped through the net, able to do and say as we like. We are a little bit like cosmic jesters!
My point is simply that we should smile and not take ourselves too seriously, or each other for that matter. Why don't you take somebody a nice cup of tea instead?
So, what's this blogging business all about? Typically I find blogs to be self-important rants on just about anything, kind of like talking to an irate grandparent who is emphatically aware that this planet we live on is "not like the good old days" and just wants to grumble. That's alright by me, as long as I am not chained up and forced to listen to non-sensical drivvle which would probably make a man want to wear his pants on his head and put two pencils up his nostrils claiming insanity and an overdue holiday. In a way it's good for people to vent whatever they need to, be it lunacy, rage or the gaping abyss of emptiness that comes of growing up in a culturally defunct, sub-urban background. These are personal blogs of the lowest order, beneath the lowest common denominator, these are just bundles of debris that are shot out into space and there should be an international agreement for blogging like there is for space junk. Eventually it might just come back and bite you, with jagged pointy teeth in a soft and wobbly place. Technical blogs have a focus, there is a point and a line joins up the dots to make a picture. Pictures, I think you will agree are nice. But a young person with a sharp biro is a dangerous thing.
I think another problem with blogging is the position of authority that a person feels when sat comfortably in front of a keyboard. We have a need to find purpose in our lives and part of that is finding our place in society. Now this is nothing new. Galileo told people that the Earth wasn't the centre of the solar system and some people didn't like this clever fellow so told him to shut up or get locked up. He didn't know his place in relation to il Popo and was forthwith never allowed to leave his house. Before that a bearded fellow named Moses climbed a big old mountain called Sinai and, obviously pretty tired from his troubles and a bit dehydrated from rambling in the desert, had a little chat with God, then came down with a list of commands, a handful of plagues and led 'God's chosen few' out of the desert culminating in the dilemna that is modern day Israel. You see? This is what happens when people get big ideas, big ideas that won't fit in their boots.
So this week's theme is knowing your place. Knowing that you are not the work of a benevolent higher being that has toiled for millenia just to hear what you have to say about their mistakes and misgivings, which has to be a good thing. Scientists might tell you that you are made from wind blown particles made in the cores of celestial bodies, star dust. I think it's also pretty funny that we are an infinetesimally small blip on an otherwise non-eventful universal radar. There are laws and errors of margin that the cosmos does not allow and depite a tight grip on everything else we seem to have slipped through the net, able to do and say as we like. We are a little bit like cosmic jesters!
My point is simply that we should smile and not take ourselves too seriously, or each other for that matter. Why don't you take somebody a nice cup of tea instead?
3... 2... 1... Blast Off!
In the beginning there was no coffee or tea or biscuits or nuthin. And then this bearded weirdy spoke in the darkness: “Let there be beverages!” And right away there was lots n lots of stuff. Scattering the darkness and showing the infinite space and volume of his magnificent beard, He supped on the heavenly nectar and let out a right belter. “That’s good!” said God.
And indeed it was good. Creating and stuff are up there in the 'unequivocally objective top bestest things in the whole wide world list' along with sunshine and juicy mangoes. So this here's a little something I'll be knocking up to help people unlock their creative, timewasting talents, help them through the otherwise life sucking, soul destroying, character building days and stuff.
Ok so I chose a naff template, thoroughly unkool title and have bashed out a hasty concoction of raw, unwashed, effluent elocution BUT, and like a high school biology teacher it is a big BUT, there will be a font of fascinating fun, fiction and a frivolous scattering of FACT as only seen before in popular tabloids, to come. So watch this space, the space between your ears or the bit between us and where God hid the answer sheets. Otherwise, what's the point?
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