Thursday 6 September 2007

Run, Run, Run for President


I was astounded today when I suddenly saw someone from die hard II is running for president of the US.

Wednesday 5 September 2007

Sucker punch

I lied, obviously. There was nothing the next day, nothing the day after that, and the day after that . . . . . . why? well, I was waiting for that lightning bolt of inspiration - when a 100-Watt Halogen bulb goes off in my mind, burning the feck out of my synapses. The problem for me is: how can I make posts about my mundane life interesting, especially when I'm intimidated by the writings of familiars (did you check nemici's last post? - good shit. Keep 'em coming, blondie) And I came up with the solution - rage. It seems to be the driving force for so many blogs out there, so why can't it work for me? There seems to be plenty of it out there. Enough to go around.

And, boy, I've got lots of it polluting my veins, as an incident last week proved. A remarkable occurrence in my otherwise normal lower middle-class existence. I was sauntering through the centre of town on a day-off from work with my daughter in her buggy, feeling fatigued and a little pissed off. At a busy junction, I paused and waited for the green man. When he duly arrived, I began to cross the road as all traffic had paused, bar one cyclist. He kept on coming. Not, it must be noted, at high velocity (ok, he was crawling along), but he was still in motion. The wheel of his bike was about half a foot away from the buggy when I kicked out with my left foot, striking his wheel. But that wasn't the end of my act of aggression, oh no. It quickly escalated. I pushed him, then punched in the face, catching him on the jaw. He was obviously stunned - and angry. Very angry. He started to follow me on his bike, saying 'Come 'ere, I want to talk to you'. Of course, I didn't want to talk to him at this stage as I had now come to the realisation that this cat was a head (his threat to break a bottle over my head confirmed this). This was all taking place near lunchtime on a busy, busy thoroughfare with crowds jostling by us. But I wasn't aware of anyone else, of people gawking at us. As far as I could tell, no one was paying attention. Luckily for me, the cyclist gave up his chase (probably had to make a drop-off or something). I ducked into a place of sanctuary and carried on with my errands as if nothing had happened. But, for me, those few moments were extraordinary. Because, if truth be told, it wasn't a totally unpleasant experience. And that's what scares me more than anything else. Time for some anger management, methinks.

Tuesday 4 September 2007

Idle oh so idle.

Aidan o Vitch in some sort of home made coup? He shall put us against the wall when he is king. Take the blog and his followers in his own direction and discredit us all. Or he may a just ruler, with understanding, hope, ideas, freedom and a steady hand - for I agree, we have all gone to our own depths (or heights) brought on by foreign travel, football, computer communication (not through blogs), moving house, impending childbirth, work (both home and job) play and social interaction and sometimes obligation.

I think apathy has been mentioned before in a previous post, its a disease while not contagious is quite dangerous to the thirty-something male, I find the idea of sleep far more appealing than most daily options put before me. And the prohibitive cost of "enjoyment" see's my future in other arena's, both spiritually and physically.

I myself have the "running bug" - Somewhere in the world where the water is free and the cost of daily life is insignificant to what could be in my bank account after 3 months of abstinance and lack of 30th birthday's. Let me walk forth through the mountains and streams, with the ability to capture the visual slung around my neck, let me write on paper alone what has happened that day, let me communicate with strangers though all mediums but common speech, let me sleep not in a white bed with sheets and not drive a silver shiny car, but do I make an enemy of my own future? or is this "their rules" and something which I can avoid till i lie on my death bed and think about all the wonderful things that I have seen and the people I have met.

Idle oh so idle. I feel like a monochrome insect or alternatively some sort of chameleon peering into a luscious garden with endless sources of sun, water and companions.

is this living ?