Atrophy

I was considering writing an article about what life truly entails, what choices and sacrifices one suffers on the breaking of each day, however after having read about which celebrities distended stomachs have burst their offal all over a Mediterranean beach, watched what is to all intensive purposes some twats in a house, mistaken your own pitiful opinions for political discussion, and rearranged your collection of t-shirts with pithy slogans on them you find the sun has shit its rays across the sky and the day has already completely fucked off. I know from experience that if I sit down in the morning with a head like piss stirred up with a bad stick with the intention to work, I will inevitably still be staring into a computer monitor five hours later with nothing to show for my time except newly learnt facts about imaginary animals and an expression on my face which shouts “God’s Balls!”. Entertainment which is supposed to quell our boredom and free moments begins to push out and become our schedule, people organise their day or week around their favourite show, and other’s entertainment signals the passing and importance of a certain day in the same way that others might with church.

We devised these luxuries to improve our lives, and they end up becoming them. Having to stay up to date with the fictional relationship troubles of people in soap operas WHICH DON’T EVEN EXIST AND HAVE NO FUCKING BEARING ON ANYTHING! Yet you feel obliged to keep abreast of television shows and magazines and films and websites, when you full know they will never end. There will be no conclusion. No knowledge or insight to be gleaned from their resolution. It may be people’s disillusioned wish to create a sense of familiarity, a routine and stability to which their weeks play out, like the co-ordinated steps of troops, except marching in a state of increasing physical decay down an avenue of organ failure and death. Of course we are all going to die so how we manage the transient nature of time would not be a problem if not for the content of our distractions.

Even on the news between reports on the state of Darfur and catastrophes in China we are updated on the positions of some leg crazy vague personages, as if under the impression that any event or occurrence constitutes news. Where do we draw the line? Does anything which happens class as news? A tour guide forgets where he is going and annoys some policemen? Some actors in a new play are being stroppy? Dame Judy Dench trips on a light bulb? The news is surely there to inform on the complex interlocking workings of both international and domestic events, the waves of effect that chaotically change and alter daily life. The likelihood of news about a pop star taking illegal drugs serving your in the real world is remote to the point of being a fuck in a monastery’s chance, you are never going to interact with said person, they are not going to interact with you, they do not even care about you. Why you should feel personally enraged by the actions of someone whose field of interaction and influence at no point intersects with your own is beyond all rational logic.

The wasting disease does not just end there, there are of course the many many products and items conceived for no other reason that to create money and thousands upon thousands of jobs devoted to an item which need never exist. There are the things advertised as conveniences, while being only the solution to a problem we manufacturer ourselves. There are iterations and variations on a theme we never needed nor could afford to have in a world which can’t even take care of its starving. I know a person who I would be ashamed to call an acquaintance who has a fashionably large stock of at least four mobile phones at any one time, even to recycle or pass on or donate these items would not address the issue, they are still being made. Materials and energy and resources are still being flung into a saturated world. To say I hate such wasteful and ignorant people is not quite right, hate is a strong word. I need a fuck of a lot more than just strong.

Lines in the sand

Those of us who are alive in this world may no doubt be aware of the concept of money, which is currently shafting a great number of countries’ economies – the situation of one company’s imaginary numbers affecting all those it interacts with and ungluing the whole convoluted arrangement. This delicate idea is an evolution of the concept of trade, except now instead of paying for things with rotting sheep’s innards you get a nice incremental token which is certainly a lot easier to fit in your wallet. The premise is the same though, notes and coins being just short hand for resources, the sole basis for almost all human civilisation, infrastructure and order being these possessions. Property, wealth, resources, call it what you will but it is ultimately just physical matter. Matter formed from the energy created in the Big Bang; energy-matter, matter-energy. Odd then that people claim to own pockets of this energy, the argument behind the ownership of matter which was created by no-one for no-one is tremulous at best. It would seem preposterous to most if governments claimed possession of the atmosphere or corporations charged for access to their sunlight, so why does striding across the soil somehow give us the impression we can tangibly own it?

Lines have always been drawn in the sand. We take this diamond mine, you take the uninhabitable desert. We siphon off the resources, you pay us for the right to starve to death. The massive disparity between first and third world, king and pauper being fuelled solely by people seeing what they want and taking it, or even worse believing they have the right to it. Whoever is powerful controls the lands and resources, in the same way that those who have the power to enforce make the laws. When they lose their ability to enforce or their power to control then revolution comes and all that topples, laws are revised, land redistributed, resources rehoarded. All property is theft, you must take it and defend it. But even that is not ownership, that is default by shooting anyone that argues. He with the gun does not decide what is right and wrong, only what’s left.

It must be necessary to have possessions and countries and land and war, right? Animals have territory, animals fight, animals fight and defend territory. Well animals also lick their own bollocks and reproduce with family members, and one thing you can say about the evolution of humans as a whole is that civilisation, society and human group behaviour have changed in order avoid these kinds of environmental and communal problems. And that surely is the nature of human civilisation, rather than running around in small tribes fighting nature, the weather, each other, you group together and form larger communities which trade, share skills, educate, trying to overcome problems for the benefit of all. Is that beyond mankind’s collective thinking, to defeat inequality, to redress balances, to look beyond resources and money as a matter of ownership? Not just make one superficial gesture from our coffers which only plasters over the symptoms so we can’t see them as well, but actually attack the cause of the problem, the reasons why there are the poor and the rich, the manner in which resources are distributed and hoarded.

Of course that’s not beyond us, not mentally anyway, but people are weak to greed, bigotry, short-sightedness, indifference and selfishness. They have known nothing other than a world where money rules, the very cornerstone and supporting structure around which plans, ambitions and the future is built, without it life becomes confused and loses meaning before collapsing into a pile of horrible traits like sharing, equality and compassion. They see another nation, or religious group, or sexual orientation and they ask why they should give ‘their’ money to them, and even beyond that you have corporations, crime syndicates, arms dealers, violent governments and the incurably greedy who would sacrifice the lives and good fortune of millions just to buy a swimming pool in the shape of their own over compensated cocks. For them there are no words strong enough to be convincing, even educating people to be more mindful of others earlier on in life would be impossible when all those who make law are only interested in pleasing the voters, and all the voters want is to pay less and to get rid of people they don’t like.

Alan Moore wrote a comic called Watchmen many years ago in which, to cure the world of war, one of the characters builds a machine which instils sheer unbridled fear and terror in everyone on Earth, so much so that they all band together to unite and fight against this entirely fictionalised enemy. It says a lot about humanity when the only thing which would change our ways is the universal and unquenchable fear of death, although of course this idea is purely fiction, people would never be tamed like this is reality. Enough of the footnotes of history have been corpses for people to have learnt by now.

Less than or equal to

In this society all are equal. This may not be how some may be treated, they can be victimised or abused but legally all are entitled to the same liberties and freedoms, and they should be had regardless of how others deem to treat you. I’m reminded of this fact after a recent incident in which a hairdresser did not offer a muslim girl a job as she felt her headscarf gave an inappropriate message given the general focus of attire of a hairdresser, the event subsequently landed the employer in court under a discrimination charge. In my own youth I had an experience involving appropriateness of dress with my employers; I had chosen in my hasty and gaudy way as a teenager to wear a golden Kalashnikov pendant on a small chain (as opposed to the masses of industrial pig iron disguising itself as jewellery these days) just visible under my work clothes. My manager saw it as a wholly unsuitable gruesome symbol of suffering and death, as opposed to a nice crucifixes hung round the girls necks. Now I’m not quite sure what magical power it is that the almighty sky wizard imbues into these items which somehow makes them exempt from uniform, I fail to even see the reason why the thousand year old scribblings of a madman give certain people more credence for their beliefs than those who just believe independently, but evidently there is some valid argument why. Like fuck there is.

Secular belief, or what would be more rightly considered view, opinion, understanding; these beliefs have now taken on a lower order of importance compared to those who are told their beliefs by others, secularism may have historically always been considered subordinate but that was when society was not pretending to be anything even approaching fair. But it is now, in an age where equality is seen as a fundamental cornerstone of fairness and humane civilisation, that secular beliefs and atheist opinion are given second place to those of ‘faith’. And I use the word faith in inverted commas quite wrongly, they do have faith, in bucketloads, in fact that’s about all they fucking have. Certainly not logic, humility, acceptance, broad mindedness, curiosity, or most importantly knowledge of one’s own ignorance. But I digress into the analysis of the weaknesses of institutional belief which was not my intention, just a happy coincidence. One would ask, given the situation, whether someone with no religious affiliations would be allowed to wear a headscarf or an article of clothing which breaks dress code.

The answer would inevitably be no, but even if it was yes that does not wholly solve a problem. The person of faith, it is their position to choose to believe, to choose to follow, to choose to wear, to choose to express their self, and they are exempted from dress codes and uniforms in this manner. However it is not just the item that is allowed into the dress code, it is their free expression, it is their freedom and choice to choose that piece of dress; even if that item were to be allowed to all people that would not necessarily be equality, the secular may be allowed to make a slight alteration to their dress and might have a slightly increased range of things to wear, but they have not been given freedom to wear what they wish or what they believe they should. In this manner they have become second class citizens, not allowed the same freedoms or liberties afforded to those of faith, whose rights and reasons for free expression are no different to the secular, regardless of their history. This has not just happened, this is not just a state of affairs that has occurred through neglect, this has been endorsed, endorsed by a society who claims it acts out of equality no less. So it is in this way that certain items of dress due to certain fields of belief become exempt from rules and regulations (whether that be company dress or the legal obligation to wear a helmet), as have the beliefs and views of certain people become protected while others of secular beliefs have not. There should be no exceptions, or there should be exceptions to all. To give the few more rights and freedoms than others goes against everything a society should stand to protect.

Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing

My mother always told me that 'Life isn't a dress rehearsal'. That may be so, but whether or not a few people boo, hiss or cheer along the way, once the play is finished everyone fucks off back home and what happened doesn't matter any more. Which is as apt a metaphor for life as it is for those egotistical self indulgent theatrical wankers. Of course my mother did also insist that children should be seen and not heard, the thinking which pioneered my mission to seal children in entirely airtight containers for that very purpose, so she wasn’t all bad. But back to life, back to reality. People are always dispensing their own foul advise on how to live your life, usually because they have lived such crippled and bountyless existences they resort to setting themselves as the standard and blindly pushing others to follow the same path in the hope that they can convince themselves even when every night they crawl into the foetal position in the shower and cry themselves asleep. So why this sudden new interest in living an outstanding life? There was a time period where you were sodding lucky not to be killed or be born a woman and people would be understandably euphoric just to be able to be alive and take a shit in the morning. Times have changed, there might still be a shitting euphoria but our palette has dulled.

I remember the first time I became aware of death, and so of life, it was in my bed. I was lying there, thinking about the universe. The massive, impossible, infinite, fuck you of a universe, and us tiny and isolated in there somewhere. It seemed like a joke, a really bad fucking joke. Like the kind of thing which would just hit you when you were going about your normal day, the enormity and insignificance of everything would just wind you. You were going to die. Why did you even exist, why did any of this exist if you were just going to die? Was this a dream? I cried, I cried a lot. I was eight years old, I was a fucking weird kid really. Now how do people react to this giant cosmic fuck you? They ignore it, they discard the infinite, they remove their own insignificance, they just about do anything they can to make their own life a case of colouring in-between the lines, and they go on believing that. Most people would say that it’s fine to believe and have faith in what you wish, that one should take solace in their beliefs and that life if just a matter of perspective. ‘Most people’ are FUCKING IDIOTS! If life and beliefs are just a matter of perspective then I’d like to see them explain in which ways their foundless beliefs instilled to create a delusional sense of ease, differ from the beliefs of a sectioned and terminally hallucinating individual. Both are reactionary constructs to protect them from hostile ideas and concepts, both believe unquestionably and ignore any evidence which would disprove or shatter their content, yet one is lorded as an acceptable and often praised ‘correct’ life view while the other only receives as many sedatives as his body mass index permits. What a fucking world.

People are entitled to their beliefs, apparently, because they don’t harm or affect anybody. But of course they fucking affect other people, you’d have to be fucking blind, deaf, ignorant and dead to not realise they fucking affect everyone and everything. And that’s not even just the extremists, the most seemingly permissive and beneficial spiritual outlook can still be a massive global fuck over in the sincerest of senses. What’s that? You want to empower your life with go power and live a new dynamic go life? When the fuck in that busy schedule are you going to get around to dealing with the dying children?! You’re not? Because you don’t give a shit that’s why, your lovely belief makes you feel at ease with yourself and stops you worrying about the world. People do fuck all about the world. World starves. World dies of typhoid. World is killed in wars.

Now even in the loosest sense possible a belief system in this day and age, knowing what is going on around us is going on, is just a shroud to make you forget how fucked up everything is and your responsibility to help or at least feel destitute and awful about it. If one more person tells me that things can be looked at in different perspectives I swear I will fucking kill them. Yes one person’s perspective can be different from another person’s perspective, but if you’re looking at a vase that doesn’t escape the fact it’s STILL A FUCKING VASE!

"What are you, some kind of monster?"

So I was minding my own business, sticking one on a clipboard cavalier who dared to have a genuine concern for the needy, the other day when this woman came up to me and asked me that very same question. Now it’s not a question that’s unknown to me, I’ve terrorised the central business districts of Tokyo dressed head to toe in green latex enough to be familiar with it, but it was still a fairly bold opening gambit. Her cold dead eyes seemed fairly insistent on me answering the question, as if she had an entire repertoire of fourth rate extremist bile ready to be acted out. The woman was campaigning for tighter restrictions on paedophiles, because apparently the current crotch manacles just weren’t doing the job. The purpose of the question was to push me into the situation where not signing her petition to have sex offenders serve as active archery targets would mean I was a monster, and who would want to be a monster? Clearly the woman did not know me at all.

Like a diseased wound the woman’s face continued to open in quick succession despite my most earnest wishes for her to shit herself to death. It was roughly half way through the explanation of how the most evil of corrupters should be herded and castrated, because apparently death is too good for someone who commits a crime on a child, that I began to consciously object. Personally I never realised that crimes committed on children actually gave you a x4 multiplier in the punishment stakes, but apparently the act is always more senseless when it happens to the short people. Fuck, I’d probably end up shaking the hand of anyone that made the parents of Little-Sally-who’s-six-now-and-the-teachers-are-saying-that-she’s-doing-really-well-and-we’ve-got-her-doing-after-school-ballet-classes-now-you-know cry. That’s not to say I hate children, which I do, and frankly some of the time I put out imagery which would make Charles Manson sick out his own mind and wash his brain with a rotting dog’s cock, but that doesn’t mean I like to see children suffer for no reason. They have to really deserve it. What my fist objects to is an entire country’s rage being centred on a group of criminals mostly populated by scaremongering, exaggeration and urban myth, purely because it affects their pearly white children. So parents can sleep safe in their beds knowing that their children are surrounded by three inches of razorwire coated Kevlar whilst thousands of adult males and females suffer unprosecuted sexual assaults each night.

Perhaps in my desire to see equality and compassion among human beings I’ve lost sight that accomplishments should be about conviction and blind instinct which is completely unaffected by fact or reason. Rather than a compromised and fair union of views I should just pick a pathos laden minor problem that an already confused and fucked world could do without. Of course that’s a fine action plan to follow if you want a complete division of society and fifty years of total counter productiveness before civilisation eventually caves in on itself when they realise they forgot to do anything about famine and disease. “Society will only progress, when we leave decision making up to the animals.”, a famous quotation demonstrating both that a random and ignorant choice is the only way to remove duplicity and inequality, and that my mother should really have not turned to gin after my father left.

If, and my rectum is screwed up as tight as possible in desire for this not to happen to you, should find yourself tethered to such a irritating, defecating, exhausting little shit of your own, then try not to let it affect your judgement too much. In fact screw not changing your judgement too much, pin down your frontal lobes and stare into the deery glossy eyes of your children and actually think about how much graphic and intolerable violence you’d see reflected in their eyes before you realise that a good father wouldn’t saw a man in two just to get a place in a decent school.

Thank you. I’m Spike Venice, my fee is 10 pounds an hour and your kids were already bruised when you left them with me.

This fucking hat

I’m currently sitting here wearing a cheap woollen fedora which I paid thirty whole pounds to purchase in a misguided attempt to emulate a 1950s noir private detective, mainly out disenfranchised hope at a bleak and eternally fucked and bland environment. It disgusts me. It disgusts me, not least because it was thirty fucking pounds for a terrible hat and I looked like a woollen headed twat in it, but because it was thirty pounds spent in a world half racked by famine, disaster and wars, a society colluded with bastardness and peopled by the scared and lonely who know only to belong to self-interested and uncaring cultures. The hat was not going to help change any of those things. To add to that I was goaded into this by a companion; one of those people you see once in a god-knows-when, just coming out of an art exhibition on bubbles and Japanese businessmen paddling around rooftop marinas. I have no fucking idea why these people exist, I imagine just to anger me, to keep me on my toes.

People’s selfish sense of belonging has just gone too far now. Yes you have every right to express or invent any culture or subculture you so wish, but paying multiple of hundreds of pounds to look like a creepy Japanese doll, fucking hell! It’s not just the money which could go to charity or to basic relief efforts or just being spent on something more potentially helpful, it’s the very idea that people would rather distract themselves with their own egotistical self experimentation than just reaching out and fucking helping someone. And let’s not take this to the plain face value of volunteer work, donating to charity, or helping a suicidal woman off of a roof, I mean basic compassion and concern for the state of human existence. You out there must realise that, no matter what majority or minority groups or cultures you belong to, ultimately you are in conflict and resolution with everyone, the very fabric of your ethics and behaviour being criticised and justified by others. Even if your continuing journey to convert your face to a curtain rail means you have no time or desire to understand or empathise with other people, you could at least try to concern yourself with the position of your own culture and lifestyle. Whether you aim to cement it or just put serious consideration into its integration into society and with others, whether all barriers and prejudices should break down and it should mix and evolve naturally or if its individuality should be preserved. Fuck it, just get stoned and the shag someone of the opposite gender then the same gender, we both know you’ve obviously given up because you think its too difficult and won’t even sacrifice some of your time and potential experience to save FUCKING HUMANITY!

I imagine by this point you think I either jest or exaggerate, or am insane, but let me put it this way: humanity is not in a fit state nor does it have the knowledge to decide what is a good society and what is a bad one, only various models everyone is convinced is right regardless of the fact that it only helps the 0.1% of the population they are in. If we can’t objectively work out what is good or productive for everyone, and no-one spends their time thinking and musing on whether there is any achievable sense of equality, how the FUCKING HELL do you expect to develop as a specie? Or presumably you’re just happy riding out the tail end of the century of the self because the wars, famines and persecution aren’t affecting you right now and the unease and suppression is tolerable.

More thought needs to be put into luxury and production, classes and continents already suffer from disproportionate basic amenities as it is but in a world with limited energy and resources are Psychic television channels really necessary? Nobody has truly thought about what is a gratuitous waste of resources and what is culture and tradition, but while stripping down society down to the most efficient and wasteless model possible is economical how do you justify the abolishment of culture and such human qualities which define existence to be more than just live, eat, die. Is it all a complete fucking waste, or is there really a way we can prune of the useless stuff (whatever useless is). Out of interest unlike the geek chic clothing and various other uses of raw materials and money, which progress nothing, the earlier mentioned art exhibition did at least teach us something, if only by extension. That you can’t deny art because it is wasteful, but hopefully one day we might be able to.

Although on second thoughts I do look quite good in the hat. Who’d have thought you could polish a turd.

What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?!

I’ll tell you what really fucks me off. Everything! It seems like we’re living in a walk in-shit storm these days, with the most irritating annoying and horrible shit happening not just daily but whenever you take the time to stop bludgeoning your self to death or rubbing crack into your tear ducts. Reality is a full time white noise alcoholic blurting out incoherent advertising when you’re just trying to get over your hangover, it’s a noisy shitty boring mess of pension plans and chronically underachieving wankers. In a time when all the school kids carry knives, which is making it much harder for me to beat their dinner money out of them. And it’s always morning! If it’s not morning it’s afternoon, if it’s not afternoon it’s evening, if it’s not evening it’s night-time. WHEN DOES IT FUCKING END?! Never! That’s when it ends. A billion glass shards of tedium and angry distraction pelt down on you on a fucking daily basis, and it NEVER FUCKING ENDS! But on the upside we have oyster cards and fridges which can connect to the internet.

God is in the details. Well he would be, he’s certainly not fucking hanging around compassion, social order, tolerance or anything remotely important. Although I suspect some of you may have been carrying out a task so mindlessly that the only reason for such torturous tedium would be otherworldly punishment from some cunt of an office deity. This is what happens when you take a job in this world, it’s all a case of shunting imaginary numbers around until piss and blood dribbles out your ears all in the fucking vain hope that the pretence gives you a justification for existing. If this is you then I suggest a vocational change, preferably to arson starting immediately. If this is not you, then I suggest arson anyway as there’s nothing better than doing a job you love. However in your soul crushing duties you may have achieved a stage where you fall into a Zen like moment, this is not characterised by introspective philosophical thought or a sense of wellbeing with the cosmos, but just that your mind has become such a penny slut that your eyes fog over and your movements start becoming light and barely conscious. The complete opposite to Sartre’s moments of existential dread, but just as fucking horrible.

Whether you are pounding away at a flimsy piece of plastic like a spastic on guitar hero or shuffling the figures for your company that manufactures magazines for expectant mothers to bombard them with advertising crap (as if having a child wasn’t fucking bad enough), it’s becoming decreasingly common for people to actually stop, stare at themselves and ask what the fuck they are doing. In order to deal with the uselessness we are forced to endure, a part of our mind shuts off, the constant awareness that you are just filling time until you eventually die is a bit of a downer when you are trying to play twister. In many ways the potential for humankind to completely reject responsibility or even self awareness of the way they spend is almost awe inspiring, or at least it would be if it wasn’t SO FUCKING PATHETIC! What’s that, you’ve been given an inexplicable and nebulous existence which holds true mysteries and is objectively unsolvable? Well you’d better think of as many ways to ignore the infinite mystery as possible and make yours and everyone else’s entire existence about property television programs and the slim slice of reality you see on the news and then feel the need to complain about because there are people you don’t understand whose very existence enrages you.

I suppose if religion and spiritualists have their own little world they live in, nurturing their own little contentment and murdering their own little heathens, then it follows that a consumerist culture would have the same. One is all about who has carried out the most Herculean feats of pointless deistic masturbation, the other is about whether you’ve got a decent pension plan yar, because you really need that kind of security yar. I honestly couldn’t say which is worse.

Maybe it’s the only way for people to cope, maybe the wonder at the inexplicable and new naturally fades over time, maybe people are just fucking idiots as always. Who knows and/or cares, just stop talking about your fucking mortgage!

Who are you people?

I’ve been of this world for some years now, a few of you may have even seen me in the street, I was the one scowling at you as your semen appreciably dribbled down your drunken girlfriend’s leg. However for all these years that I have held a position of contempt and sadism on this earth, I have never once taken to society’s rims and combined this innate hatred of mankind with my desire to stick my genitals in new and interesting things. That is not so for everyone, as there are literally thousands of people and conservative ministers who on a daily basis get sexually aroused by the act of giving or receiving pain, either physical or emotional. Now literally three of you may be surprised that such people could possibly exist, this may be because you blankly cover your eyes, ears and arse when running from building to building in the hope of not coming into contact with cultures in any way, shape or form - but I am not here to judge anyone, only to swear inordinately in their direction so that they shut up, disappear or end their lives as quickly and quietly as possible.

Let’s stamp one thing down into our petty brains now: I am not a prude, a moral crusader, or a small two bedroom flat in Aldershot. I’ve been to fetish clubs, I’ve seen my cat’s worth of curiosities; I don’t partake but that’s just my way, if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad then the mountain can just fuck right off is what I always say. Fuck, these are the kinds of people that leave me picking bits of hard-on out of my shorts for weeks to come. However there is a vast difference between accepting and tolerating the existence of someone and agreeing not to hammer the tiny stupid faces of every man woman and child (well maybe not child) that shits foul latex clad borderline-religious bollocks at me. I have realised that you have unusual and different sex, I don’t think at any point I stopped realising that you have unusual and different sex, I don’t see why you keep telling me that you have unusual and different sex. What’s that? Because it’s better? Is it now? I suppose it’s better in the way that rock is better than pop, books are greater than films, or that Jesus could beat the shit out of the Holy Ghost. Now you should listen up because this bit is important, if your entire meaning and justification for existence hinges on the fact that your subculture acts out Hammer horror films whilst having sex then you should prepare your rectum for rapid head evacuation.

Now this doesn’t just go out to BDSM, this is for subcultures, ‘hard workers’, religions and anyone else who is so scared by the uncertainty and possibility of a hostile cosmos that they have to rank people based on the amount they have performed an arbitrary task. So you're a sado-neo-proto technophile, you're the newest ten second social rebellion. Well done, now fucking grow up. Living isn’t a simple task and I would expect a certain degree of discrepancy and disagreement as to whether there are any values or ambitions we can live by, I would expect and encourage conversation and discussion between peoples on what to aim for or how they want or should spend their time, what I do not expect is people to be convinced they are living a better life because their garage has three cars in it instead of two and they get a blowjob on the weekends. I live by the principle that if you do not understand something then you should accept so and try to learn, similarly if you are too much of a mentally crippled human being to survive the prospect of uncertain and immeasurable goals then using your own cock length as a philosophical yardstick is not a reasoned alternative.

Please feel free to stop me if you think I’m off the mark, if you think that the act of validating people’s lives based on whatever fad is in the mind of Vogue’s editor that month is somehow a well thought out and valid way for humans to lead their lives. I’m sure that the best people to attest that these beliefs are valid and constructive are the frightened, scared and confused of the world who grasp out in need of help or aid but only receive the fragile support of an empty shell. Yes, I’m sure what they really needed was that league table of achievement you gave them. And for all the rest of you trying to fuck yourselves to enlightenment, don’t believe your own hype.

I love you people, just stay the fuck away from me.