Hello, and thank you for dropping by. You may already know that the first 22 posts of this blog are the text of my ebook, 'How To Become A Crack Addict' (Jan to April 2013). I'm thinking of calling it Blind Man On Crack, just for the hell of it, but until that time, you can read it here, or on amazon, if you wish - it costs £3.35 or so, and if you buy the ebook, I would really appreciate a review...I have three so far, all good, but I would like more. And so here is today's little instalment. I honestly don't know what I'm going to say, but I thought I should check in, if only for my own peace of mind, and the mild entertainment of my 2 followers...
Well, in my virtuous state of abstinence from crack, and other heavy drugs, I just wanted to vent what I think may be an opinion. Here in England, in November, we have Remembrance Sunday, where we all remember people who've got done in in wars, with particular attention paid to World War 1. That's fine. That is a good thing. But this year things seem to have been a bit fetishistic, in my opinion. There is a sea of poppies, the symbol of the blood of the fallen, pouring from a window of the Tower of London, and spilling into the moat, numbering around 880,000, which is apparently the number of English and 'colonial' soldiers that died in World War 1. This too is fine. But I have to be honest, I get sick of seeing everyone on the telly wearing a poppy like they'd be shot if they didn't, like they're setting an example for the rest of us...I mean, some of us, virtuous as we are, are thinking daily about the pointlessness of life, and the even-more pointless nature of death, in particular in wars that should never have been fought in the first place. Every news bulletin has that ingratiating tone, which I assume we are meant to adopt, when it talks about remembrance, poppies, what the queen did, and what texture the Prime Minister's shit was the day he went to see the sea of crimson flora at the tower. I heard on the news that a soldier had done a sponsored run around London to raise money for the fallen, and his run was in the shape of a poppy, i.e. circular, with a slight crimp, and maybe a stalk. He'd lost a limb in a recent conflict, and this I also respect, and empathise with. But the news bulletins loved it, and I fear that next year we'll be thinking how we can outdo this year's grief-fest, and then, in 2018, on the hundredth anniversary of the end of World War One, what will we do then...how will we better this fest, the traffic-jams to the Tower of London, the silent milling crowds, paying their self-centric respect to the fallen as they scan their smartphone across the ruby sea, and put it on a sepia setting, to evoke a more innocent time?
Maybe the X Factor should factor in a competition for 2018's remembrance, or perhaps we should convene a Grief Olympics, especially for people who want to be seen to mourn the most. Is it fair of me to use the word warnography? Well, I improvised a little song called that, if you wanna hear...and here's the link to it on youtube. Thanks for letting me rant. Oh yeah, and no, I haven't used crack lately, which is great, cos I want to buy my friend's little girl a nice Christmas present this year, and a few grown-up friends too. Only a few Christmases ago I was in bed, having had my telly taken away by a mad woman, who'd said she'd be back in an hour, when she'd sold it. I never saw her again. Maybe she died in a war.
I hope you understand the spirit in which I've rattled this off. I just don't like enforced circuses, and I feel like the past few weeks have resembled a bloody kind of big top, in which the clowns are mostly politicians and newsreaders, and those who're looking for something to pin their personal grief to...
And on that bombshell, I shall leave you with this link to my song. I thought it was a bit of a racket, but some guy on youtube seems to like it, so what they hey...! Click here if you feel inclined...Warnography.