Archive for January, 2008

19
Jan
08

Narrow, Shallow and Small.

Narrow

Why does every debate and every issue have to revolve around gender? What makes men and women different, be it biologically or culturally, always seems to be the main focus. How has society separated and suppressed women this time? Granted, I myself have made such observations from time to time but I don’t see it as the mainstay of my intellectual self. I have other things up there, in that noggin of mine. Other ideas and musings that do not touch upon feminist theory or opposing ideals. What sort of cognitive pretzel would you have to twist yourself into in order to make absolutely everything about gender equality?

Shallow

We all live in a miniature world. Everything is so close these days, and so fast. Immediately accessible to anyone at any time. This is mostly a good thing. One side effect though seems to be the ever decreasing attention spans and simpler trails of thought. Quite often people can’t even hold one encompassing thought in their heads for more than a few minutes. Let alone two directly opposed ones. These aren’t kids with ADD, ADHD or some other disorder, these are “normal” adults. It is quite possible that this has always been the case and that it’s only become much more visible now that everyone has a way of expressing themselves to a greater number of people. The Internet is the great repository of this brain-goop. The great mental meltdown of society.

Small World
This is where we live.



This tiny little world we live in is all our tiny little plastic brains can handle. Everything is clear-cut, prefabricated and safe in its sameness. Selecting what you want to see and hear and feel. Not everything is going to revolve around what you take an active interest in. Not everything is going to be about child welfare, the environment or gender equality. Noble subjects as they may be. Human society and life is infinitely more complex than that.

Small

The entire concept of personal responsibility has utterly gone out the window. Like some fad that we’ve found quaint and discarded. Nothing is your fault anymore. It’s your genes, upbringing, circumstance and society that’s to blame for everything that’s wrong with you and your life. Of course all of these different aspects play a role in shaping people. But you do have a brain with a cerebral cortex capable of reason and thought. It’s a wonder anyone gets held responsible for anything anymore.

You can’t keep up with being a parent and working? Maybe you should have had less kids. How about you at least get the first one right before you pump out another one? A smaller house would mean less cleaning. Less frilly and expensive clothing would mean less laundry and less shopping. You don’t need to be a top executive at a soulless corporation some day. So what if the lawn is untidy? Trust me, all these pointless activities and fads that you’re wasting the best years of your life on won’t mean anything. The one with the most toys doesn’t win, they just leave behind more garbage to be thrown away and discarded. After all, we need to make way for more pointless shit. Are we really such small people?

This is not as pointed or succint as it ought to be. I hope to one day be smart enough for that.

15
Jan
08

5 grams of glee.

Did you know that in Sweden you’re not allowed to carry around more than 5 grams of glee at any one time? Anything more than that would be illegal. Above that amount and you’re considered a dealer of delight, a pusher of joy. No, 5 grams is the sanctioned amount. It’s not even enough to make you properly merry. But it is however enough to make you fine, without being too dandy.

Scientific studies have shown that any more than 15 grams of glee can cause you to become more than happy, a dangerous mental condition. Afflicted with which you’ll be put in a special institution. Locked away, prohibited from gladdening anyone’s day. Society can only handle a specific amount of bliss each month. More than a specified amount and it would just become obscene. Felicity frenzy would break out! Gangs of gaiety would be rampaging up the streets spreading joviality all around. Pandemonium of positivity!

I think I just gleed a little. Better clean up. Hand me my mirth-towel.

14
Jan
08

The Man, part 2.

Bandaid



I got the call just as I was leaving work. I almost snapped off the band-aid from my finger while scrambling to get the phone out of my pocket. What the hell does she want now? Isn’t it enough that she rejected me? Is this some sort of sick game to her? I know alot of things, the only problem is that most of it’s wrong. One thing I am certain of however is that I love her. Or loved her, whichever makes me less pathetic. For the longest time she seemed like she was deciding. What she wanted from life, what she wanted from me. In reality though she had probably figured out exactly what she needed me for quite some time ago. Some sort of male companionship.

When other men treated her like shit she needed me to come in and reassure her. Tell her she didn’t deserve what she got. Keep her company. Maybe watch a movie and eat dinner together, in our little apartments. Knowing full well that I wanted her. On second thought it was entirely possible she couldn’t quite understand just how much this feeling had taken over my life. No, no she had to know. Not fully, but surely an inkling had to appear somewhere in that head of hers. We were more than friends. “Just friends” as she put it. The phrase that can make any grown man feel like he’s back in school, having just been humiliated in front of the class.

“This is my heart, please don’t dump it on the floor.”

I really need to get back home first and have a shower and change this band-aid. It’s starting to itch, a whole lot. If this thing gets infected I swear to God I’m going to go berserk! I’m not going to lose a finger over a bet. How the hell was I to know that Indian would be so good at the knife game? Proving once again that whisky and sharp objects don’t mix. The band-aid is getting frayed around the edges and discoloured. If only it was a Flintstones one like when you were a kid. That would be cute, that would be a way in when you’re picking up women. What the hell am I thinking? “Hey baby, wanna see my disfigured finger?” Sexy, real sexy.

Who was it that had fucked her and left this time? Some dashingly handsome actor? A mysterious musician? A successful banker? It didn’t matter. They were all the same underneath. The same insecure, preening, posturing bullshit artists that equally insecure women fall for. I knew most of these guys through friends of friends and acquaintances. Walking human echoes, one and all. What a whiny little bitch I had become.

At times that little piece of plastic cloth felt like it was the only thing holding me together.

12
Jan
08

The Man, part 1.

Part 1



On the bus. He could feel every contour of his face, every edge and protrusion. The skin was pulled more tightly over the bone and cartilage than usual. It often did that just after he had showered. The skin probably dried up somewhat. But who had time for lotions and ointments, really? It was more than enough work to brush each day. Flossing only occurred sporadically. When he remembered to remember. Not often enough according to his dentist. Screw that guy though, he had arm-hair covering his wrist watch. He may know about dental hygiene but who takes advice from a guy like that? And those kids in the framed pictures, let’s just hope they’re talented or something.

He had gotten off the bus now, waiting for the next one. In that little glassy hut-like structure they call a bus stop. Smoking the first cigarette of the day as he stood there. Mulling over what he had heard about the nicotine in the cigarettes turning your fingers yellow he concluded;

“This is what yellow tastes like.”

Do colours have tastes? If they did, yellow would no doubt taste like a morning cigarette in the rain. Did the cigarettes actually taste different while smoked on an early, rainy day? Or was it all in his head? In either case it was all real to him. That’s what mattered, right now. Until he got to see her again. Finallly.

10
Jan
08

Plastic bags.

Returning to the topic of environmentalism. According to a poll in a Swedish evening newspaper (not the best source I know) 72.2% of people want to ban plastic bags. Apparently because they are bad for the environment. Why don’t just those 72.2% stop buying the damn things and we wouldn’t need a legislated ban. That even 1% of the population would want this is depressing. People in this godforsaken country really do want to be disciplined by the government. Like some stern father who lets them know what they may or may not do, in all aspects of life. I can only guess that they find some sense of security in that.

Bags
A menacing killer.



The scary thing is that people may actually believe in this sort of soft policy/journalism fluff. The planet will not go tits up because of some plastic bags, trust me. Maybe the fact that many industrialised nations still pump their sewage, mostly untreated, straight into the ocean should concern people a little bit more. Literally being up a shit creek some day doesn’t sound too exciting to me.

08
Jan
08

Rum would help.

I rolled out of the couch today and smacked my head on the coffee table. It hurt…



…alot. On the plus side: now I’m like a sexy pirate, only with a band-aid instead of a patch. And no friends instead of a parrot. And a crippling fear of commitment instead of swag. So really, I’m the greatest pirate master that’s ever lived!

01
Jan
08

Nature.

One has to be amazed by the ignorance of people sometimes. Global warming is just the latest in a long line of arrogant ideas concocted by us humans. The sheer hubris that mankind, annoying as we may be, could ever “destroy” nature is so laughable as to be utterly absurd. I believe one of the main reasons for this irrational idea, or fear if you’re a proper idiot, is that modern day people have no concept of what nature actually is. Granted that people in Ye Olde Times had little to no grasp of the cosmos, they at least had some fundamental understanding of how the fauna directly surrounding them functioned. Even though it seemed awfully scary.

Probably because it is. People these days get their imagery and mental picture of nature from Disney films, it seems. Where animals and plants have the characteristics of humans and live happily together, in peace, smiling and singing forever and ever. The end. Poppycock! Animals fight all the time, in fact, that’s most of what they do. Every single day of their lives. They have to fight for territory, food, not to become food, for mating rights. In fact, for everything. Because you see, nature doesn’t dole out good tidings and fortunes like some benevolent mother figure as filthy hippies would have you believe. Nature will kick your ass.

Or it would, back in the day. Before us humans became all uppity and decided to not be completely subject to nature’s hardships. Yes, we do have some control of our environment. And we have done some damage, a hell of a lot. But in the great scheme of things we are but a pimple on the face of nature. And not even a very bad case of pubescent acne at that. This shit will clear up as soon as nature decides to wash a bit more and stay of sweets for a while.

Debates over whether of not predators such as wolves and bears are too dangerous and should be destroyed makes me laugh. Are people really that stupid? Are we really such big pussies? Honestly? It’s as if we want a clinically sterile, prepackaged, controlled, safety tested form of nature. Where only friendly animals such as, I don’t know, fluffy little bunnies exist. That’s not nature, that’s a fucking park you morons. Get your heads out of your asses, your asses out of your office chairs and out into the woods and have a look around. On second thought, don’t. People know nothing of “the country” and will end up getting killed by a rogue magpie or something. Then we’d have to kill all of them as well.

Have a happy new year. May your days be filled with satisfying random encounters and positive meals that taste quite nice. I’m modest in my well-wishings these days. As not to put too much pressure on you…you’re welcome!