Archive for April, 2006

Never eat anything too shiny to hold onto in a high wind

What is wrong with the world? Why do fruit vendors feel the need to fucking well polish fruit? First off, apples are not supposed to look like that. I for one find it mildly disturbing when fruit destined for my consumption reflects the sunlight so vigorously that I feel the need to look away. Secondly, to let you in on a fascinating fact I’ve just discovered, wax doesn’t taste very nice. I have just had to eat through a layer of yeuch to enjoy an apple which I now have very little appetite for. Is this designed to discourage people from eating?

I have a list of simple rules for survival and satisfaction in life. Things like “Never eat a meat you can’t identify unless you’re happy to find out afterwards who it was”, and “Its better to regret something you’ve done than something you haven’t done”. Every once in a while a fresh one makes it into the list. The last one was courtesy of Gus, and was “only carry one working timepiece, and always set it to local time”. Wise words for anyone who frequently, or indeed infrequently, catches planes. Courtesy of London streetfruit, I now add “Never eat anything too shiny to hold onto in a high wind”

I’m not even going to talk about the shiny bananas. Some things are just very, very wrong.

Fuck off and die

So here’s the thing kids. The fact that I write something that happens to be published on the internet is not a request for your goddamn opinion on it. By all means supply said opinion, thats what comment boxes are for, but guess what? I didn’t ask you to read it, and I didn’t ask you to tell me what you thought of it.

So don’t feel the compelling need to critique each entry lest I veer off what is, in your opinion, the right path. Its my fucking path, not yours. I’ll take criticism from you when I ask for it, or perhaps when its not a completely subjective topic.

I have no problems with criticism as such, but completely irrelevent flippant criticism drives me to… well, fuck all really, who cares, but I will take out my mild irritation with a stream of insults to anyone who decides that my writing is subject to their half-literate evaluation.

I write what I bloody well feel like writing. If you don’t understand it, feel free to kill yourself in shame, but don’t come whining to me about it. Any further comments saying “I really don’t get that but HI ANYWAY!!??!!&*%” will be inserted rectally when next I see the perpetrator. If you want to say hello send me a mail or a text message.

Incidentally, while I’m at it, no rant is directed at a person, though some are prompted by them. Rants are directed at everyone who isn’t me. Or everyone who doesn’t agree with me. Who the hell else would they be directed at? Why would I waste that amount of energy on one person?

I write for my benefit. Not yours. Eh, except of course for my mother. Hi Mom *waves*

Subjective and random are not synonymous

Beauty is subjective. But it is not random. It is not a mystery, and it is not diminished by explanation. Incidentally, this is my opinion, and I speak about it as fact because this is my fucking weblog, and therefore it can be taken as a given that I shouldn’t have to preface every sentence with “I think” unless I am not sure and I wish to express that. Read more »

No, I do not envy your shallow, meaningless relationship

I’m single, and I’m not looking. Don’t ask me out, because I’m not interested. Not that people ask me out a lot, the problem resides more in the people trying to set me up with their single friends. Some people seem to think that life is incomplete without a significant other. First of all lets deal with the really obvious questions.

I don’t hate men, I don’t hate women. No, I haven’t just gotten out of a big relationship. My last relationship, though highly significant, ended over 9 months ago, and had lasted under a year and a half. No, I’m not emotionally fucked up about sex. I’ve been through fucked up and come well out the other side, and gained much perspective. No, I’m not incapable of intimacy, I both value and enjoy it immensely. And no, I’m not terrified of commitment. I was for a long time, but I have finally gotten to the stage where I make decisions that I hold to, and am not afraid to make them.

And I suppose that’s the point really. Why make a decision I can’t stick with? Why date? Why look for things that I don’t really want? I don’t meet people that I’m attracted to very often. Because I’m only attracted to people I know well enough to admire their intelligence, or their character, preferably both. I don’t see the point of trying to be interested in someone, that’s so shallow, and so fucking meaningless.

I’ve been in a reasonably large number of relationships for someone who’s just turned 23. They had varying degrees of seriousness, but they had one thing in common, when I was in them, I was in them with my whole heart, and if that stopped being the case they ended. I don’t do things by half.. Which doesn’t mean I go to bars looking for my soul-mate, it means I never look for anything.

And aside from disagreeing with the very principal of dating, ie. seeing someone you are trying to like before you really know them, I hate almost everything else about it. The etiquette, the lack of sincerity, how difficult it is to be sincere if you want to be, the embarrassment, the feeling like you have to live up to someone’s expectations. The knowledge that you are being judged and evaluated by someone, however irrelevent their opinion may turn out to be.

I don’t need to be in a relationship to feel worth something. I value myself just fine alone. I don’t need someone to have dinner with, and I don’t need someone to have to listen to me talk shit when I’m angry or stressed. Sure, those things are handy. But nothing is a good enough excuse for being in a relationship you’re not pushed about. If I was in one, I’d feel like I was lying to both myself and someone else every day.

None of this means I think love is unimportant. On the contrary, I think its incredibly important. It’s the second most important thing in the world. So it shouldn’t be trivialised by fools for the sake of smothering their insecurities. I’ve been in love, I know how it feels, I have no desire to try and fake it, or reproduce it through my own efforts. Nor do I have the ability.

So take your cutesy, 4-week-old little relationships and shove them up your butts, or hell, rub them in my face, it makes not one bit of difference. Because I don’t envy you. Not one bit.