Love is pretending. Having to pretend, just for the other to not be repulsed by you. That is what I genuinely used to think. Whenever you get asked a question, for example, you have to deliberate on what the correct answer is. And when you give the wrong answer, as eventually you will when you go down that road in the first place, a little bit of you will crumble up and die, leaving you ever so slightly more bitter than you were. After all, you only said what you thought they wanted to hear. How can the other one be mad at you for something that you did not really mean, anyway? Continue reading “Of Fairytales, Blindness, and Battle Fields”
“Well, actually, that is a blimp, not a zeppelin, because it has no rigid frame, you see.” Yes, I know. Insufferable. I have said that. I am a terrible smart-arse. Always have been, always will be. When somebody makes a tiny, inconsequential mistake like that, I just want to correct them. Nobody wants to be wrong, right? Continue reading “How Can an Arse be Smart, Anyway?”
People on TV rarely have jobs. I mean, of course they do have jobs, but they don’t really do them. Apart from news anchors and talk show hosts and such, obviously. Other than that, they do not do their jobs. Which can be fine in some cases. Cliff Clavin is a postman, but we do not need to see him make his rounds because Cheers is set in a bar after hours. But how often do we actually see people work their jobs in cases where we realistically should, aside from police procedurals. Chandler Bing is rarely seen at his desk and Ross practically never in any sort of museum. Even when a show is set in an office or at another workplace, the protagonists are usually up to some shenanigans instead of doing their damn jobs. Watching Doug Heffernan get in trouble with the guy loading his truck is hilarious, watching him deliver parcels less so. And while I can only come up with sitcoms for this little corollary of my hypothesis, I am confident the point still stands. In police procedurals it is often the other way round. We almost never see the protagonists doing anything but their jobs. Even if there is some interpersonal conflict or drama involving Starsky and/or Hutch, it is between them and one of their coworkers or superiors. Drama in hospital shows takes place in the hospital, is what I am saying.
Be prepared! as through life you march along. Be prepared. Tom Lehrer sang in 1953 to make fun of boy scouts, or the scout life at least. I am not a boy scout, but the notion of preparedness is, generally speaking, a good one in my view, and it has certainly gained traction among a certain percentage of the population, many of which are paranoid conspiracy theorists who think the government is out to get them, which is why “be prepared” to them means “stockpile a 5-digit number amount of rounds for the two dozen assault rifles you own”. Many of those who are not are at the very least deluded wannabe lone-wolfs with delusions of grandeur and a messiah complex.
When BBC’s Life on Mars did not feature Gene Hunt complaining about the newly decimal pound, I found myself complaining about that, recently. It just seemed to fit for a curmudgeon, who was in his 40s when it happened, to bitch about decimalisation, as well as the EU and all that. Maybe he was just too busy keeping Manchester’s streets clean, though.
Imagine drinking a nice glass of milk when suddenly, you are trampled by a stampeding herd of angry cows. In a way, that is exactly what happened to me. Just on a smaller scale, of course. Well, and you would have to switch out the milk with cow barf. On second thought, that picture does not even begin to hold up…
Have you ever put on a shiny, new tie that looked really good and tied your whole outfit together only to found it soaked in soup a couple of hours later? I might have a vested interest in telling you this, but the solution to your problem are vests. Or waistcoats if you prefer. By the way, why is it still called a “bulletproof vest” in the UK?