Its pretty fucked how much of our lives are beyond our controll. I dont just mean that in a deterministic way - that all our life takes a path that is determined entirely by our surroundings and genetics, rather than a fallacy like 'free will' - but also in a more simple and mundane way.
Such as; sex. Our hormones, pheremones, and simple animal instincts in the depths of our brains determine just about everything to do with sex. We all think we have controll over all that shit, but in reality it is sex that is controlling us. It has ingrained itself to such an intrinsic degre into our basic make up that it is fairly close to impossible to ignore it. Sure, there are religious people who seem to manage, but even god isnt infallible; some of his beloved priests and bishops excetera have been known to break the guidlines in rather drastic fashions. I wont speak of the incidents in question, because im sure your fairly aware of them.
Dosnt it piss you off that we are so hardwired for sex that it is so unavoidable that people would rather rape than just go without it? And surely it would have been possible for the one true diety - lady luck - to construct something more viable than a system of such twisted despiration that people are know to fornicate with just about anything - animals, corpses, inanimate objects, relations, children. I mean, how important was it to reproduce? How much of a rush must nature have been in to produce such a fucked up instinct as that?
Dont it distress you that our bodies are so constructed that sex is the most pleasurable thing? That we are constructed, within the womb of our mothers, to have huge concentrations of nerve endings in just the right places, to have glands which basically drug the human into a sex-obssessed frnezy, to have this ingrained, intimite desire to ejaculate all our meaningless, forgotten little bastard offspring into some appropriate vessel? This fucked up nature that causes all the horific sex-acts mentioned above is the very same one we trust to guide us to our appropriate other half, to the spare set of genes that we will hand to our offspring.
Where do we draw the line? Where does sex end and pervertion begin? What is pervertion? And how far can we trust these bodys of ours that punish us for storing up our seed, and which showers us with sensory gifts when we choose to indulge it? How do we know that our bodys know what they are doing, if there are so many others out there that do what is clearly 'wrong'?
Sex is fucked. The whole system is based upon the centurys-old idea that procreation is the most vital thing we could do with olur lifes. This view is unnecesarry in a world rent with overcrowding, and so is this ingrained obbsession with the most beautiful and most harmful thing any person can do.
Of course, there are other examples of the exreme controll our bodys have over our supposed, and frankly laughable, 'free will', but sex is the most interesting and most prevalent.
Fuck sex.
Thursday, 22 February 2007
Im on hunger strike.
Well, not really, im just seeing how long i can go without food. I havnt eaten for... 41 hour now, but i have been drinking lots of milk, so im feeling fine. My muscles feel like their staring to eat away at themselves, but that may just be after-pain from the rugby match yesterday.
Yeah, this whole not eating thing is interesting. Its like, ive never realised how much i eat before now. Seriously, try eating nthing for a day. Youll be amazed at how often you fine a banana sitting in you hand that you could swear you didnt pick up, or a piece of chocolate floating towards your mouth seemingly of its own free will. Food has some crazy controll over us.
Tomorrow im going to try and drink nothing as well. Its gonna get pretty wierd, methinks.
Anway, just thought id fill you in.
Well, not really, im just seeing how long i can go without food. I havnt eaten for... 41 hour now, but i have been drinking lots of milk, so im feeling fine. My muscles feel like their staring to eat away at themselves, but that may just be after-pain from the rugby match yesterday.
Yeah, this whole not eating thing is interesting. Its like, ive never realised how much i eat before now. Seriously, try eating nthing for a day. Youll be amazed at how often you fine a banana sitting in you hand that you could swear you didnt pick up, or a piece of chocolate floating towards your mouth seemingly of its own free will. Food has some crazy controll over us.
Tomorrow im going to try and drink nothing as well. Its gonna get pretty wierd, methinks.
Anway, just thought id fill you in.
Tuesday, 20 February 2007
Shall i compare thee to a piece of classical writing?
A question about inter-textuality in love;
When we tell our darlings that they remind us of Shakespears 131st sonnet, or Byrons "To a girl, upon recieving a lock of her hair" (or worse, when we quote them with no admittion that this is not our writing at all!), to what extent should they feel... cared for? I mean, William doubtlessly didnt write the piece for them, so the only actual action that you, the quoter, have done is to read a sonnet, and presume its excellence upon someone else. In fact, you may have initially stumbled across the writing in question when perusing for your own pleasure, so all you have done for your girl is take the effort to rmember it, eloquate it, and bask in the reflected excellence. Basically, nothing.
Dont get me wrong - i (as a shit poet) can sympathise with a person who finds it hard to express just how one feels for the other, but i would never presume my literary knowledge upon a girl in order to impress her. It just seems like cheating.
Well, that was a fairly inconclusive rant.
When we tell our darlings that they remind us of Shakespears 131st sonnet, or Byrons "To a girl, upon recieving a lock of her hair" (or worse, when we quote them with no admittion that this is not our writing at all!), to what extent should they feel... cared for? I mean, William doubtlessly didnt write the piece for them, so the only actual action that you, the quoter, have done is to read a sonnet, and presume its excellence upon someone else. In fact, you may have initially stumbled across the writing in question when perusing for your own pleasure, so all you have done for your girl is take the effort to rmember it, eloquate it, and bask in the reflected excellence. Basically, nothing.
Dont get me wrong - i (as a shit poet) can sympathise with a person who finds it hard to express just how one feels for the other, but i would never presume my literary knowledge upon a girl in order to impress her. It just seems like cheating.
Well, that was a fairly inconclusive rant.
Sunday, 18 February 2007
The two loves of my life, and a girl.
This is my valentine;
I wake, dress for school, then have a cigarette on the walk to the bus. On the half-hour journey to school i write the first stanza and a half of a love poem. It is the fifth i have written in two days, and like the other is a perfectly cliched degree away from perfect. Still, this one will have to do, since school is almost started. I get off in the square and buy 40 Lambert and Butler before walking to a bench outside school, lighting up, and finishing the poem.
Then its into school, do my last prelim, skip the rest of the morning classes and, at lunch time, search for the girl - lets call her Gloria, since i like that name and it isnt hers. I dont find her. Instead i find a duo of girls, one Londoner who is nice, and a local who is also nice, but can be extremely tedious. They are freinds of mine, so i give them two of the failed love poems i wrote for Gloria, and they seem happy.
Then its home, and away to a singin lesson.
Home, that evening, and im sitting in the kitchen listening to Gary Moore and playing Civilization IV on th house computer, and on MSN with my mums laptop. Then one of my 14yr old brothers friends come through and invites me to join a drinking game. Well, as the man of the house i felt it my duty to show them how a real man drinks, so i joined them. While getting supremely drunk with them i kept talking on MSN, and by the end i was flirting quite extravagantly with Gloria (I rather get the feeling i embarrased myself). Then, when she left MSN and i won the game we all went up to the barns (this was at about 2AM) and got totally wasted on Mikes hash.
As a story of me breaking my self-imposed hash embargo i feel i must do it duty some other time, but merely as a story of my valentines day, i feel i have said enough.
So, my valentines day romance was one with drugs, rather than the heady strength of love, but a romance it was, and i regret not one moment of it.
I wake, dress for school, then have a cigarette on the walk to the bus. On the half-hour journey to school i write the first stanza and a half of a love poem. It is the fifth i have written in two days, and like the other is a perfectly cliched degree away from perfect. Still, this one will have to do, since school is almost started. I get off in the square and buy 40 Lambert and Butler before walking to a bench outside school, lighting up, and finishing the poem.
Then its into school, do my last prelim, skip the rest of the morning classes and, at lunch time, search for the girl - lets call her Gloria, since i like that name and it isnt hers. I dont find her. Instead i find a duo of girls, one Londoner who is nice, and a local who is also nice, but can be extremely tedious. They are freinds of mine, so i give them two of the failed love poems i wrote for Gloria, and they seem happy.
Then its home, and away to a singin lesson.
Home, that evening, and im sitting in the kitchen listening to Gary Moore and playing Civilization IV on th house computer, and on MSN with my mums laptop. Then one of my 14yr old brothers friends come through and invites me to join a drinking game. Well, as the man of the house i felt it my duty to show them how a real man drinks, so i joined them. While getting supremely drunk with them i kept talking on MSN, and by the end i was flirting quite extravagantly with Gloria (I rather get the feeling i embarrased myself). Then, when she left MSN and i won the game we all went up to the barns (this was at about 2AM) and got totally wasted on Mikes hash.
As a story of me breaking my self-imposed hash embargo i feel i must do it duty some other time, but merely as a story of my valentines day, i feel i have said enough.
So, my valentines day romance was one with drugs, rather than the heady strength of love, but a romance it was, and i regret not one moment of it.
Hash just takes it all away from you. I know its a fairly basic, irrelevant drug, but i still love it.
Allthough im starting to fear the addiction coming back to me. I dont want to get back to the old routine of getting wasted every lunchtime at school. It drain the will, does hash. Makes you rather float through existance than take part in the mundanity of lessons, exams, work. Makes everything irrelevant.
And a big fuck you to anyone who says it isnt addictive. Before Wednesday night (thats Valentines night) i hadnt smoked hash in two years. Now iv been totally fucked for three days running, and im considering going to the basement right now and rolling myself a lonely one-skinner. Sigh.
The thing that really gets me is how young they all are. Mike, for example. Screwing Lorna then coming to the basement to roll me a joint, and he's only 14. I know, i know, there are much more unpleasant exampls of children growing up fast than that, but its still worrying.
Presumably it is the school system that is too blame - schools are made for thick people. Smart people have two choices - get it all over and done with and finish their Highers or A-levels by the time they are 14, or get totally fucking wasted everyday of their school career. And it is sooooo much easyer to choose the latter.
But wait - whats that i hear you say? You dont know why intelligent people cant just do the same as other people? Well, simply because they get bored waiting for the simpletons to catch up with them. And thats where hash comes in - it slows them down to the level of the average schoolkid.
Allthough im starting to fear the addiction coming back to me. I dont want to get back to the old routine of getting wasted every lunchtime at school. It drain the will, does hash. Makes you rather float through existance than take part in the mundanity of lessons, exams, work. Makes everything irrelevant.
And a big fuck you to anyone who says it isnt addictive. Before Wednesday night (thats Valentines night) i hadnt smoked hash in two years. Now iv been totally fucked for three days running, and im considering going to the basement right now and rolling myself a lonely one-skinner. Sigh.
The thing that really gets me is how young they all are. Mike, for example. Screwing Lorna then coming to the basement to roll me a joint, and he's only 14. I know, i know, there are much more unpleasant exampls of children growing up fast than that, but its still worrying.
Presumably it is the school system that is too blame - schools are made for thick people. Smart people have two choices - get it all over and done with and finish their Highers or A-levels by the time they are 14, or get totally fucking wasted everyday of their school career. And it is sooooo much easyer to choose the latter.
But wait - whats that i hear you say? You dont know why intelligent people cant just do the same as other people? Well, simply because they get bored waiting for the simpletons to catch up with them. And thats where hash comes in - it slows them down to the level of the average schoolkid.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)