Mostly Bollogs, I'm afraid

But occasionally, a glimmer of truth.
If you find one, please let me know.

Thursday 25 February 2010


Precis: summarising, in a shorter form. This is a precis of the other bloggers blogs as I read them today. However, I stole it. It is actually from a book known as the bible which, even if you don't go in for all that malarkey, has quite a bit of good stuff in it. It is from the book of Ecclesiastes, in the old testament (which is the bit in B.C. as opposed to A.D.), and I can't be arsed to look up the spelling so if it's wrong, I don't care. It goes like this (I've missed out verse 1):

 2 "Meaningless! Meaningless!" 
       "Utterly meaningless! 
       Everything is meaningless."

 3 What does man gain from all his labour 
       at which he toils under the sun?

 4 Generations come and generations go, 
       but the earth remains forever.

 5 The sun rises and the sun sets, 
       and hurries back to where it rises.

 6 The wind blows to the south 
       and turns to the north; 
       round and round it goes, 
       ever returning on its course.

 7 All streams flow into the sea, 
       yet the sea is never full. 
       To the place the streams come from, 
       there they return again.

 8 All things are wearisome, 
       more than one can say. 
       The eye never has enough of seeing, 
       nor the ear its fill of hearing.

 9 What has been will be again, 
       what has been done will be done again; 
       there is nothing new under the sun.

 10 Is there anything of which one can say, 
       "Look! This is something new"? 
       It was here already, long ago; 
       it was here before our time.

 11 There is no remembrance of men of old, 
       and even those who are yet to come 
       will not be remembered.

Good, innit?

What it is says is that it's all shit. Same shit, different pile.

It was written by a bloke who was what we'd now recognise as a philosopher. He was probably a minor King at the time and probably wore sandals and a white frock. He clearly suffered from clinical depression or had a bad day at the office, or a grand hangover, or something.

He suggests that nothing you can do will make anything any better so you might just as well accept it. It isn't for long, in the grand scheme of things. You will die, and it will all be over.

We have a more modern saying, which is much shorter than Mr Ecclesiastes' tome, which goes thus:

                "Life is shit. Then you die."

I have a better one:

                "If life is shit, do something about it. You'll die anyway, might as well take some of the other fuckers with you."

So, you bloggers, I agree with you. Anyone would think that Gordoron and Camerown were one and the same person, or that they have some sort of agreement that they won't have a majority of more than fiver percent, and the other lot (e.g. Lord Rantzen of Liberty) have tacitly agreed not to interfere. That's what it looks like from where I sit, on this giraffe.

That's where the agreement stops though. Yes, you can vote for Gororon or Camerown or even Lord and Lady Questions Will be Asked of Balderdash. It won't make a blind bit of difference. You know that. You blog that. And you're right. And you'll die. And it'll all be over.

I have kids. I don't want to leave this shit to them. I refuse to leave this shit to them. They deserve better.

At the risk of offending anyone, may I point out that none of the things you propose to do, such as going and putting an "X" on a bit of paper somewhere, drawing a cock and balls on the paper, writing "none of the above", lobbying your MP/MP's dog/children, demonstrating, reminding them of what Mr Cromwell said once, etc will do FUCK ALL.

Do you know why I know this? I know this because all of these mechanisms have been put into place by these offensive, self-gratifying leeches grazing on the arse of humanity, so that they can know what you're going to do, expect what you're going to do, and ignore what you're going to do.

My suggestion is, in a French-stylee, to write "NON" on a splintered axe-handle and insert it, blunt end first, up their respective bottoms.

I'm up for it. Seemed to work for Edward II, although I suppose things have moved on since 1327.

Oh, and BTW, while I mention this bible thing, there is a bit in it that says that chaps shouldn't put their tackle up other chaps' bottoms, too. But it doesn't mention axe-handles.


Corrugated Soundbite said...

"I know this because all of these mechanisms have been put into place..."

Exactly. Hide the money. They don't permit us to do that so it's likely to make clunking fisted, Nokia hurling Gorgon's of most of the establishment. Then we'll win.

Old Holborn said...

spot on

Now read this

Uncle Marvo said...

Already read it on your blog, ace. My kids respond well to such a manifesto and always have done.

Fuck me, a comment on me blog from the Great OH Himself.

My day is getting brighter by the minute. Now all I have to do is to get Farage to come over for a beer.