Sunday, October 25, 2009

If-let's say- I wanted to make a movie, I might want to make a flick like this:

Which might have a theme such as why- if you were wondering- you should not complain...

To the tune of:
Music..
as performed by The Beatles

They say that everyone wants someone
So how come no one wants me?
Then, they say that everyone needs someone
So how come no one needs me?

Well, if you wonder who the loneliest
Creatures IN the world can be
Well, there's the Ugly Duckling
The Little Black Sheep, and me (UH-HUH)

They say that everyone LOVES someone
So how come no one LOVES me?

Well, if you wonder who the loneliest
Creatures IN the world can be
Well, there's the Ugly Duckling
The Little Black Sheep, and me (UH-HUH)

They say that everyone LOVES someone
So how come no one LOVES me?
So how come no one LOVES me?


Action:

A shitty character sneaks around sticking a knife in the back of a noble bloke. Ark! Says the noble bloke, I've been stuck in the back! And he has been. Sure enough, a knife is stuck in the back of him. Ouch, he yells. Damn me if I ain't stuck in the back!

He don't ask why, he don't say anything at all, he just takes the blade like a man. He assumes a gent has stuck him in the back, a gent who needn't explain nothing at all, a gent who probably has his reasons.

Ouch, he yells. That fuckin hurts, it does, he says, under his breath. He decides not to look around, decides to let it go, because as he well knows, a fair number of things have no causes and can't be explained.

Meanwhile, another gent- who happens to be a local ladyboy- less than a metre away has been feeling annoyed by the vagaries of amour and has decided to stick a blade in the rearmost aspect of a bystander. Right, you'll do, he thinks out loud, matching his action to his thoughts. He plunges his knife into the rump of a guy who happens to be nearby. Are the results predictable? (author shrugs) The guy who now has a knife stuck in his ass yelps and leaps and spins around.

Shit, he says, not unkindly. What the hell you wanna do that for? That's me arse, and I never asked for a knife in it!

The stabber shrugs and grins meekly. It's not your fault, she says soothingly, it's just one of those things.

One of those things, the stabbed one shouts, it's almost unbearable! It's downright inconvenient! It's damned inconsiderate- what were you thinking?

Oh, says the stabber, it's love.

Love! Love?!? If that's love, I'd just as soon be a virgin, thank you, says the stabbed one, nearly shouting. Why don't you take it out out on someone who gives a damn, eh?

The stabber smirks. I don't suppose you'd like to pop around to my place for a bit of slap and tickle?

The stabbed one looks stunned. Well, he says, I just might...


(Caution: Entire sketch brazenly lifted from Monty Python's Flying Circus- except there's no police officer involved, and no wallet, and the weather is better, and thirty years have passed... and the whole thing has been rewritten.)

Psychoporn

There's a shit-head in our soul, a bitchy little critic whose least useful mimicry echoes loudest, snuffing out the guttering wick of our better nature. Who said that?* Well, you. And me. We should shut the hell up.

However many dentists (or other doctors) out of how many other recommend it, our propensity-inclination-predisposition-proclivity... for/towards screeching needs to be decreased. Is that English? Don't care! I don't.

People- that's you and of course I- don't matter. Our opinions are trash. Our thoughts are dubious at best, and possibly (probably) much worse. Do I doubt the utility/validity of my thoughts? Nope- I don't. They're crap, as the prattling class would say.

To you and to me I holler- shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stop yelling. Quit whining. Don't keep on complaining. Why won't you (I) just be quiet?

Honestly, you people are wearing out my tolerance. If you can't say something nice (useful/helpful) why don't you (I) say nothing at all?

Do I believe you need to hear this, or that you might learn from hearing it? Nope. I sure as fiddlesticks don't believe any such thing. But I believe I'll go nuts if I don't tell you.

It's masturbation, sheer finger-fucking! A waste of time and essence. You stand a better chance of making a difference in how the world evolves- or doesn't- by stuffing your head in a wet sack full of oatmeal and shouting “Ave Maria” than you do by howling at me. I don't care one stinking little bit whether this world ends with a thump or a sniffle**, for one thing, and I don't give a star-spangled hoot whether/how much YOU care. Get it? Get it! I got it- you oughta get it too.

Your (our) fascinated grasp of “current events” reflects nothing more than a puke-crusted bleary hang-over memory of what coulda-shoulda-woulda-mighta been. So, please, don't mention it. If you're enlightened, good for you! If you're not, even better. If you can't be bothered saying anything at all- best yet!

Why am I so bitterly disenchanted? I'm not. But I thought you might need a bit of reverse psychology to buck you up. Have a *^&%$#*^&% day. That's Esperanto for “acceptably pleasant”.***

* Says who? Not me... maybe YOUR negative thoughts are intruding...
**Thump'n'Sniffle..... T.S. Eliot spoke of- prize-winningly(?)- a Bang and/or a Whimper.
*** No, that's not Esperanto for anything. But have a pleasantly acceptable day anyway.