Saturday 26 July 2014

The meaning of life?

For the longest of time now, I have really been struggling with the concept of life and why we are here.  Not in a head-up-my-arse sort of a way, but just trying to get my head around the concepts of it all.
I mean. Look at us.  Planet bound, vastness all around us, nothing to do but get born, work and die - in a nutshell that is, obviously there are the days at the beach and the nighttimes can be great too... but essentially, when it boils down to it - that is it.  Life, in a nutshell, is all about work and death.

So why do it?  If we know the inevitable is, well, inevitable - why do we continue with life?  Why not just cut out the middle man that is work and be done with it?

I know some of us think we are leaving our mark for future generations.  That it would seem is certainly true of our generation right now.  Global warming, pollution, destruction.  Yep, we're leaving a great legacy for the future humans.


Monday 26 September 2011

Happy Birthday to me....

Well, its that time of year again.
The one I really can do without.  I've just turned 33 and hey hey, what a surprise, i've done nothing to celebrate it. 

I'm a bit of a headcase really.  I tell people "don't bother", "don't worry about it, I don't really care about my birthday", then act all surprised when nothing happens! How dumb can one man be?

I get the yearly suicidal thoughts about this time as well, but they soon pass.  Tomorrow is another day, no different from yesterday... its just today I have to get through.  Will someone say those words to me today?

Saturday 11 June 2011

Life goes on....?

An hour ago, whilst working on the ship, I heard that my cat had died. 

A cat.  Not a human, so many people would think "less important"....
He wasnt less of anything.  He was larger than life.  Im going to miss him so much.
See, I have a family, but I'll never have kids, so I guess my animals are my subsitute.
We decided to buy two cats in early 2003.  My other half of the time picked "Florence", and I picked "Buster".  Buster was my cat.  Florence is also my cat now, but there was a link with Buster that I couldnt quite shake.  HE was absolutely, the most loving animal I have ever known.  Bar none.
I always knew that one day I would have to face this moment, but I always assumed that Florence would be the first to go.  Shes the "outside" cat.  He loved lounging.  He'd sit on the back of the sofa all day, meyowing incessently at the birds outside, whilst not bothering to actually go outside to them.
He would roll over and let me stroke his belly.  He would come up to me and nuzzle my hand, "give me more attention".... all the time.
I guess right now, hes at the vets, waiting for the autopsy.
Florence is by all accounts very quiet at the moment and unusually loving.  Obviously she knows somethings wrong.  Im at work and theres no way I can say "I need to go home, my cat died".  What could I do anyway?

I just have all this stuff in me that I need to say to anyone, no-one, to myself.  I need to write about how much I loved that cat, and how Im really struggling to keep composure right now.  Yes, its all about me. 

Im dreading going home.  The emotional stuff comes in waves.  I compose and settle down again.  Then something reminds me hes no longer here and it starts all over again. 

I guess the one small saving grace is that we know what happened to him.  He didnt run away, he didnt get run over, he just died in the garden one evening, found the following morning.  Theres "some" sort of closure.

I used to get angry with him when he ate his, then Florences food.  Stupid really, hes a cat... a gutsy cat that always ate... But I loved how he used to join me on the bed in the evening, pester me for attention and love and settle down, the loudest purring, taking up half the bed...

Here I run out of words.

To my cat, Buster.  I will really really really miss you fat kitty.

Friday 31 December 2010

Goodbye to all that.

2010.  What will I remember of you?

In a word, Hassle.

Will I miss 2010.  Not one frigging little bit.  Bring on 2011!

Tonight, I'll be drinking the year away.  Heres to a better 365 days ahead.  Cheers.

Sunday 26 December 2010

The Loneliest Day..... just not for 72% of the UK

Yesterday was a time of reflection for me.  Being isolated from friends and family this year, I didn't know what to do with myself.  So, I slept for most of the day - preferring to snuggle up with a pillow and the TV droning softly in the background, and just spend a bit of time thinking about things.  A time to contemplate what is going on in my life (not a lot), where my life has taken me so far (to some really great and also really nasty places) and where it may go in the future (who can say).  I think that basically sums up two hours of thoughts on the matters at hand.

I also opened a great many webpages on the theme of alone at Christmas, to see just how others cope when faced with what is basically a very family orientated time of year on their todds.

One webpage, albeit written in 2004, left me feeling quite cold.  Written by Julian Baggini, philosopher, for the Guardian newspaper, speaking of how modern he and his fellow travellers were, treating December 25th like any other day, not getting weighed down with all the "baggage" that goes with Christmas, and loving every minute of it.

Sounds like my idea of hell.

Not only did this guy bend over and worship his own clever arse, he clearly stuck his head right up it at the same time.  Talking about how he and a fellow drinker in a bar were involved in the Christmas spirit without being bogged under with family worries or concerns - quite frankly means that he wasnt in the Christmas spirit.  Yet his own egotistical views on how "very" he really was just goes to show that he really didn't have a clue about what Christmas really stands for.  There was also what almost amounted to a derision of Christians the world over "28% of the UK are not Christians", "for one day, its like the sizeable non Christian minorities get to run the country".  Hogwash.  Pig swill and drivel.  Christians still work Christmas when they have to!

A line that stood out above and beyond the rest of the tripe was this classic;
We could enjoy Christmas more than ever precisely because, by choosing to skip it, we had freed ourselves from the burdens of expectation that stand in the way of relaxed pleasure
Maybe he forgot that without Christmas in the first place, he wouldn't have had the day off to have relaxed pleasure.

He also went on to say about all the traditional family feuds etc and soforth, that we are all well accustomed to in every household that celebrates Christmas across the country.  But isn't that part of it?  Isn't it better that we argue and make up rather than all sit there pretending the world is one big rose tinted snowglobe?

I'd rather reality and family over what he offers in its place.

I'm probably going to be slated when I say this, but for me, Christmas is about Family.  I don't want to spend it anywhere else.  And if I can't spend it with family, I'll remember what it symbolises to me as a Christian.  (and its not a preachy blog this one - thats it on the Christian front).  And if I have no family and am not a Christian, I'll treat it as any other day, and not use someone elses feast day to validate my own sorry piss up with a strange woman at a bar, no matter how entertaining she may be.

Quite frankly, the man is an arse of the first order.  I can only hope 6 years later, he has managed to extract his head from it just enough to realise that by actively separating himself from Christmas, he can't then chose to use it as a comparison.  There is no comparison you can make to it, without looking like a dick.


This year, Christmas begins on the 30th of December for me.  Thats when I'm home.  Thats when I see my family.  I don't think I really care to know how Julians Modern alternative went this year.

To read more about this man's drivel, visit http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2004/dec/28/christmas.features11 

Wednesday 22 December 2010

Dont Ask, Dont Tell

Not always having been a fan of America or what she stands for, it comes as a pleasant surprise to learn that after 17 years, the yanks have finally recognised that despite claiming fairness and equality for all, with all men being created equal, their judicial system hasn't always supported the claim.

Dont ask, Dont tell - DADT - is America's policy of actively discriminating against gay and lesbian people who serve in her military.  Put simply, if you admit you are anything other than of the straight persuasion, you are out of work.  Not that the military would be my first choice for employment - however, if needed in anger for a worthy cause I wouldn't hold back on signing up, but seeing so many service men and women proudly waving their country's flag and fighting its wars for it, you can't help but feel proud for them equally and want the best for them.  After all, they would give their lives for you and me.  For the very principles that a country is built upon.
Even when those principles are not applied fairly and equally.

That takes some sort of hero, to my way of thinking.  To stand in the firing line, knowing that you're all equal in the sights of a gun, but not it seems, not legally equal in your own country.

So finally, and with the same old homophobic and bitter ranters stood on the sidelines, the law has been changed.

Theres still a long way to go by all accounts, but the prospect of a country where all men are created equal I hope will make the future a little brighter, if not for those that came before, for the great many more that will follow under a new system.

I remember the same arguments being peddled back in the late 1990's when Britain finally saw sense and scrapped the military ban on gays.  Ten... thirteen years later, who even mentions it any more?
Only the same sad bigots that would have women dressed from head to toe in an old bed sheet, would remove universal suffrage, and still condone the death penalty.  Although thats a subject perhaps left to another post, since I've mixed opinions on the subject myself!

Well done Obama, and all the people that worked so hard to make it happen.  Its been a long time coming, here's to another small step towards a world without institutional prejudice.....

Saturday 11 December 2010

The Driving Game

The main road in and out of my home town is an "A" road, which basically means its got two carriageways.  One North, one south.  And its not the best of roads to ever try overtaking on.  Lots of winding twists and turns along the way.  6 miles of twists and turns actually. 
A few years ago, the local council reduced the speed limit from 60mph to 50mph in an attempt to cut the accident rates. 
For those that know the road well, when theres nothing about we still drive the old speed limit without any problems, but usually I stick to 50mph begrudgingly.
So it really pisses me off when not only am I stuck doing ten miles per hour under the speed I always used to drive, but then I get stuck behind some "dora-the-explorer" doing another ten miles an hour slower still. 
40mph Doras are the worst sort of drivers in the world.  They're the sort of people that do 40 in a 50 zone, and then 50 in a built up area.  Generally because they are incompetent drivers only focusing on what radio station to tune into and "oh, look at that view over there", with the attention span of a goldfish when it comes to other road users. 

You probably guess I suffer from a little road rage now and again.  And its precisely because of these people that I do.

So what do I do?  I like to occasionally play the bumper game.  Its not a game I always play because I would never get anywhere with time to spare if I did.

But its very simple.  A real Dora is terrified that you are always TOO CLOSE to their back bumpers.  When in reality, you could get a bus in between you both.  The key is to maintain your distance.   Dont drop back or Dora wins. 
Dora will instinctively start to slow down in protest at your supposed tail gating.  Match the speed, but don't drop back.  This is a battle of wills.

Dora will go from 40 to 30, 30 to 20 and when she (or he - there are plenty of male Dora's out there as well), drops to ten miles an hour the battle is on.
Today, I won.  I travelled 3 of the 6 miles at ten miles per hour.  It doesn't bother me if they want to slow down to a crawl and frustrate other drivers.  I'm happy to poodle along behind them, not acknowledging the protest speed at all.  And because its pretty much single track road, theres no overtaking by the frustrated drivers behind me.  A sea of rage and frustration all aimed at the lead car.  Lovely.

Really brightens up my day.