Send in the crowds

It seems like only yesterday when I was attending Prof EK Blankenship's lectures on Public Morality and Private Obligations. The year was 1973 and I was just emerging into the heady world of what would come to be known as "think-tanks". Prof Blankenship's elucidations were just the tonic that I and many other Young Turks needed, dismayed as we were by the democratic bleatings of the "people".

And now, looking back at a scorched, broken landscape I can't help but smile. Today, more job losses, tomorrow a hanging. Looks like things are back on track.

Midway through this life

The light that comes through my window is a pale straw yellow. But it is the noise which pains me. A sound of regret - a plaintive plea. It boils up from the basement of this oversized suburban nightmare and positively tears through my soul.

Because I know what it is.

Joey Bishop's demented relative. His aunt, or sister-in-law, whatever it is. What am I doing that makes me deserve this treatment, this torture?

Enough already.

I need to steady myself. Just open the door, ask her why she's making that noise? Why is she phoning up the newspapers? Just stop.

Which she does eventually. And when she returns, grinning, to the assembled company, she announces, eyebrow raised:

"You've run out of lozenges. You may need to get some more."

Life is a cabaret old chum,

I recently received an email from an old friend, someone I hadn't heard from in ages.

Anyone familiar with my work will know about my "think tank" days. Naturally, I made a number of acquantiances through this network of minds. And yet, as time dissolves into a branching prism of moments, we do not always remain "in touch" with all the people who make our moments.

In any case, I was delighted to hear this voice from the past.

"I am finding the nightlife a little challenging. The stench of - to be honest, I'm not sure I really want to know - the stench we live with, the murders, the traffic, the general chaos. It can be lucrative, yes. But I just feel we could be doing so much more.

"But anyways, I digress. You may have wondered what has become of [NAME DELETED] - well I owe you $300! You called that one."

It can be remarkable, how our pasts create our presents.

Gilt and shame

The beauty pageant that is our world rolls forth, crushing all inefficiency that lies in its path. There can be no greater tribute to the heady mix of contradictions that make our world what it is than the way we all salute. Feeling good about yourself? Then remember that you will never acheive the greatness of our legion of celebrities, who embody all that is good, true and virtuous.
And if not good, true, etc then at least profitable.

And if not profitable, then at least laughable.

Which is good when you finally realise how bad you should be feeling - because at least no one knows who you are.

God Bless the "You Essay"

There's not much more one can say about life today, other than the fact that we are living in a super-fabulous world of wonder.

It's not just the sheer productive capacity! It's not just the way that we all trade in our massive motor vehicles every other hour - no, it's so much more.

It's the look of joy on a young person's face when Our Dear Leader's visage appears on the screen of the latest new telephonic device which is now attached to their amygdala.

This, dear friends, truly is the Best of All Possible Worlds.

And anyway, as a great humanitarian once said, There Is No Alternative.

A barometer for the brain

This keeps on happening.

You think you're standing still - in control, applying measured pressure to the dynamism that enriches our culture. But instead, the constant drip drip drip of ringtones and drop down menus begins to absolutely gutter your brain-pan, to the point that you have become the thing you most revere.

And the end result is that you become an embittered comedian: joyless, world-weary and ready to pounce if your food has not been prepared properly.

Because you're not paying them to screw up.

The last man standing

Well, you can't let time get you down. After all, the natural tendency of most people is to claw their way to wherever they're going and then complain when they get there.

But not all of us good, upstanding sorts, that is.

No, with our old-time religion, we bask in the glory of a mean-spirited, hateful god with no mercy and even less patience.

It's the sort of thing that keeps us going.