Remembrance Day, Armistice Day, Veterans’ Day. The Great War ended on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. Bunch of poncey fucking twatty fucknard cocksuckers. Oh, it gets my blood going. 9 million young men die, civilians get extra fucked-over because any pretence at ‘chivalry’ goes up in aeroplane exhaust, and the Armenian Genocide gets slipped in under the radar (not that I have any confidence in the international community to intervene in any genocide anywhere anytime); there’s no symmetry, no beauty or rhyme or reason here, and the poncey fucking twatty fucknard cocksuckers still have to try to make it all pretty and meaningful by calling it off on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. MAKE IT ALL PRETTY AND MEANINGFUL BY NOT DOING IT AGAIN, COCKSUCKERS. And then less then a generation later . . .God, Remembrance Day puts me in a foul fucking mood. Usually I can live with the fact that man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards, that conflict is a part of life, that we’re all a bunch of territorial animals, and such. But today I get overwhelmed with frustration about how countryfuls of people get led to the slaughter by more or less charismatic leaders taking cleverly cynical advantage of their nationalism and territoriality.
I recommend a book that, according to the author who I met during a trip New York this September, nobody but me read – Rediscover Toast, by Alfred Wolfgang Truss. Not only does the author have the best nom de plume I’ve ever heard, but he conjured up a very vivid paranoid vision of a patrician class dominating global politics whose purpose was almost wholly to control population growth. I think my paranoia-levels are low, and that most truths are evident if you think about them for a second. But I wear the poppies, I look at the poppies other people are wearing, and today I'm not thinking Flander's Fields so much as the heavy, smacked-out sleep the population goes into when they play along with the horrific.
Okay, enough about how dumb people are and how much I hate them. Time for my new favourite word. 'Schadenfreude'. Guesses? Anybody know already? Bonus points if you can tell me how to pronounce it.
6 commenti:
mmm opium...
what the world needs now, is methamphetamines, sweet methamphetamines... it's the only thing, that's there's just too little of... mmm methampethamines and opium...
now there's a war for ya. weeee!
Remember in Pulp Fiction when Thurman's character was all coked up and Travolta's character was all smacked out? It looked like they were having an awful time until they started dancing together.
So maybe what the world needs now, is in fact funk, sweet funk.
man oh man - the world has no idea how better off it would be if only there was more funk.
when j*fish is the prime minister and i'm governor general, i'm going to give funk awards to people.
You realize you and J*Fish left the post of Queen way open, right? And don't look at me. I'm going to be Pope(tte?) of Canada after the takeover, and I don't believe in a mix of church and state.
to have a monarchy you have to have a monarch - hm... we have to find someone with enough fashion sense and mild-mannered hotness to fill the position of Queen or King - perhaps we can arrange some sort of marriage between Jeremy and some distant monarch and their offspring can be the kings and queens of Canada
If you have a prime minister and a GG, you need a monarch. J*Fish could just be president, of course, but then you'd be out of a job, missy.
Don't worry. The doors of the Holy Church will always be open to you.
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