I Can See The Finish Line From Here…..

I can’t ever remember it being there before, I never once looked up, straining my eyes into the distance and wondered what was that thing shimmering in the distance, not once. But that all changed on my birthday; the 12th of December last year when I became 65 years a human, it was there, a haze in the distance, it was some way off, but unmistakeable; it was the finish line.

It wasn’t real, it was in my mind, which was a more unnerving reality, imagined but unknown, real but unreal, not like a memory from the past but a projection to the future, as real as a full stop to a sentence.
Someone much brighter than me once said that there is only one truth in life; and that truth; is death. Now, that seems a pretty stark ponderous reality, but nothing matches that statement in vulgar realism.

Regardless of who you are, whether a street begger, a fund manager, politician, rock star, royalty or President, religious or athiest regardless of whether you love or hate, kill or nurture, decide on the fate of nations or the colour of a hand bag; one day, or one night we, all of us, will draw our last breath and in doing so; be cast into the great void beyond; we will die.

It seems strange that when we enter this world in that messy and physically industrial process, there are any number people keen to know every cute detail of the new entity; “girl or boy” this sets in motion an analysis of the offsprings future based on the physical attributes of the two involved in production. “How much did it weigh” Above six pounds the question is rapidly followed by a sharp intake of breath and a pinched lemon sucking face reflecting the pain and stretch level endured by the delivery unit. Child birth is viewed in society as an event to be celebrated, fawned on as a miracle, an event so spectacular as to render the parents into a mindless orgy of questionable purchases such as cribs, tasteless baby clothes, technologically diverse car seats, distraction toys of every sound and colour of the hallucinogenic spectrum; yet death, by contrast is something completely different; its black. Turn up at a funeral in a multi coloured Hawaiian shirt or a light summer floral skirt armed with a bottle of bubbly or a six pack, its fair to say you will be viewed with some distain; because death and funerals have only one colour and one mood; black.

There is no room for frivolity in death, no notion of gayety, there’s nothing funny about death, it come cloaked in fear and foreboding; but take a look at birth from another perspective, the very act of introducing a human into this life is by definition, condemns that joyous bundle of vomit and shit; to death.
Baby ‘showers’ and christenings are places of colour, vibrancy and joy, funerals are places of black, restraint and tears. There are few things more sombre than the place where we commit someones mortal remnants to ashes or deliver them to the earth. Yet its where we will all go, there’s no escaping the fact that one day, its you in a box on a tasteless velour drape being slowly transported into a furnace burning at 1800 degree F or with the touch of a button efficiency, lowered into the wormy earth in a box made to look like mahogany (but is in fact cheap pressed board). These are facts from which no one escapes, there is no argument to deny it, no force to exclude us….so why the long face?

Death is life greatest mystery, it has provoked poets, song writers and artists of all persuasion to sing, speak in hushed couplets, draw and chisel the image of death in stone. Its mystery provokes religions of the almost 3 thousand varieties to glorify or regale it. Death is the hot topic that no-one talks about.

Heres some fun death statistics to cheer you up; since Homo sapiens transformed from knuckle dragging apes to homo Erectus, over 100 billion of us have died, to put that into context; that’s a lot of people.
There are around 8 billion of us currently in various stages of dying today so the dead really do outweigh the living.
If you are the sentimental type, you can request the ashes of the departed to be returned to you in any number of vases or box configurations.. At this stage you weigh about 6 pounds of ash, if your dearly departed favoured gold teeth, you can even have them returned to you too. The departed become a kind of cadaver reclamation yard.
You can even have your carbon ashes turned into a diamond; half a cup of your loved ones ashes scooped from the ceremonial vase will produce a 5 carat diamond, which is an impressive ring to show off to your friends.
On average a human life lasts for about 2.5 billion seconds and every day, around the world, on average 150,000 people will discover the mystery of the great beyond.
In Taiwan, to avoid an ill attended funeral, which, locally, is a great embarrassment, family member have hosted great feasts, hired strippers and scantily clad ushers to ensure a vibrant and well attended send off.
In the US there are over 300 people cryogenically frozen awaiting the advancement of science to thaw them out and repair whatever ailment killed them in the first place.

The surgery and cosmetic industry is flourishing and it owes its fortunes to death itself; why; because ageing is an admission of the slow but relentless procession to eternities waiting room, a place we all appear to want to avoid.
Annually in the USA alone, those desperate to disguise natures way of saying “you’re dying, get over it!” spend over $6.5 billion being sliced, prodded and pumped in the vain attempt to give of the illusion of longevity. Every year, millions of desperate people use the surgeons knife or needle to say to the world; ‘I’m not dying, I remain young and vibrant, just look at me”. The illusion is often self gratifying but the fact remains; you’re dying and there is nothing anyone, anywhere can do about it.
So; what to do? Maybe we should all look at death from a different perspective, maybe death can be viewed as a celebratory departure from phase one of a great and mystical journey.

Heres the thing; science has the answers, it can tell us how we evolved, how we managed to turnout like we have done, anthropologists know why we survived the tens of millions of years sliding, crawling, climbing over this fragile rock spinning and moving through space at around 600km per second. In cosmic terms we are less than a pimple on an elephants arse, we are part of something no-one understands; so; how can we understand the reality of our transition from our evolved form to the next more eternal phase of this microscopic thing called existence. Death may just be the starting point and by that I don’t mean in a religious context or some other form of human created quackery; I mean it in a true sense of; does death release that etherial unknown we call our spirit.
We can only describe human spirit in terms we ourselves have created, words such as intellect, creativity, emotion, loves, exploration, hates, fears etc etc. but no one can explain what this thing is that buzzes around the heads of every living , breathing, human yet to die on this planet. And it doesn’t stop there, I won’t even venture into the world of animal spirituality.
So here we are on a journey that many believe ends in death but it may be that this part is just getting the car out of the garage; who knows what happens when deaths engine kicks into life.

God Gave me you….really??

In 2015, at the height of the Syrian war, I read an Facebook message extolling the virtue of god and the righteous belief that gods children would be protected. The post made me quite angry as it also went on to extol the virtue of being born American. The author of the post has completely dismissed the reason why children were being slaughtered in Syria; the piece, in its attempt to show how god and christian values in America were the building blocks of a safe world, completely dismissed the reality of the situation for those cowering in cellars under American bombs. What angered me more was the response to this drivel by equally deluded christian types; and then I passed a sign on my way into my local town which set me off and put me in rant mode.

To counter this religious ‘love in’ I wrote a response and thankfully, received a barrage of abuse from those very same religious, god is love people. Exactly what I wanted…..

This is what I wrote:

“Not too many things annoy me but whenever I drive into town I pass a sign by a prominent church that changes from time to time.

The latest version proclaims “God Gave Me You” ……no, no, no what gave me you; was a bottle of wine, an expensive meal and the enormous amount of bullshit I spouted about the rights of women, all designed to make you think I’m a new age metro sexual and not just wanting to get into your pants; it didn’t work and …that’s what gave me you.

And it bugged me. As a matter of fact, most God botherers bug me. I’m an atheist, not because I’m lazy, but because I’ve studied it, I’ve visited Jerusalem, walked the ‘Stations of the Cross’, read theologically based books, listened to sermons…all of which allowed me the conclude that its a load of nonsense. I get and understand the social need for religion and the chaos that would ensue if religion didn’t exist but what I don’t get, is that intelligent people take that one step too far and believe that an all powerful god actually exists and by worshiping this ‘thing’, their lives are enhanced and enshrined beyond those who don’t. They treat this thing called religion as a private club, where if you’re not a member, you cant take advantage of the benefits….such as eternal life, a wafer and a slug of red every sunday.
I look at it this way; if religion were a business, God would be the CEO and Jesus, head of sales. In his time, Jesus wasn’t doing the job of selling Christianity to the masses even with his burning bush and loaves to fishes tricks, so he needed a grand gesture, like a ‘two for one’ sale. Pissing the Romans off was his way in; Let me set the scene

Jesus to Roman “I’m the son of God”
Roman: Piss off Jesus, and enough of that son of god shite, you’re upsetting the locals.
Jesus: I AM the son of God!
Roman: Listen, any more of that and you’re in deep shit.
Jesus: I’m the son of God.
Roman: Right! whats the matter with you, I’m not telling you again!!
Jesus: I’m the son of god.
Roman: RIGHT, you fucking idiot, you’re a carpenter, knock this cross up and lets see how you get on!!
….and the greatest story ever retold badly had begun, the head of sales had cracked it…but it is annoying that in the modern world we still effectively believe that rather than an effective political figure, Jesus; who I have no doubt existed; morphed into the son of God. In the 21st century we still believe in fairies at the bottom of the garden.
God is Love….. tell that to the child with cancer, the oppressed, the poor and the disabled. Tell that to the children cowering in dusty and darkened cellars as bombs rain down. I still don’t get it;  but its just my thoughts on the matter….”

I don’t expect anyone to learn anything from me, I only write to provoke a response from those I can then deride because by writing something that annoys certain groups, I get immense fun out of the spit and vitriol it can muster in some.

Rant part two…I cant put it down

I then remembered an incident from a couple of years previously that still brings a smile to my face. There are some things that you know you can never repeat and others that people will never believe happened…but this did….

I’m trying to get away from religion but it seems to lurk around me like a bad smell. This week I watched a documentary on Netfilx, it was about an amazing magician by the name of James Randi, the program is called ‘An Honest Liar’, I would urge anyone who hasn’t seen it to take a look. Randi was a world class illusionist ranked up there with Houdini. In the documentary, Randi as he was commonly known, displays his contempt for those who claim healing, faith healing or religious properties. He also proves as charlatans, those who take illusion and sell it as something more powerful. Cunts like Uri Geller, who by any stretch of a sympathetic appraisal is a sanctimonious twat, Randi made it his lifes work to debunk these contemptuous fakes, many of whom have made millions from the stupid, deluded and religious (the first two descriptions usually add up to the latter).
Randi successfully achieved this exposure in thoughtful scientific experiments and complex ruses, I achieved it with an act of childish, infantile, irresponsibility….

let me tell you about it because thinking of it to this day still makes me laugh out loud.
As some will know, I spent many years as a professional photographer, working with household names in music. About 10 years ago, I was contracted to shoot a week long series at the famous Earls Court Arena for Pink Floyd or Peter Gabriel, I cant recall the act. By night three,  I had shot what I needed and spent the concert hours backstage with the production crew talking about anything other than music.
Earls Court is divided into Earls Court One and Earls Court two, joined by a fire door which I and (I will call him Dave as he now commands a position of great importance and I don’t wish to tar him with my infantile brush) discovered led to the other side of Earls Court. In this vast auditorium we were confronted with the most extraordinary spectacle.
The room was filled with well dressed men and women, principally black; dancing, screaming, hollering, waving their arms about, falling to the floor and screaming gibberish. On stage was a big black man, sweating like a pedophile in a boys home, admonishing his frantic audience to greater heights. Dave and I, hunkered down at the back of the auditorium were mesmerized, it was by any standard; a remarkable display.

After some time of this nonsense, without urging his audience to do so, a line of swaying people, some helping others, formed a queue and were led on stage whereby this huffing puffing (I think his name was somebody Thomas, maybe I’m wrong but that comes to mind) big black man would launch himself at one of these quivering wrecks, clutching their head and pushing them to the ground whereby whatever malady they had 30 seconds prior was suddenly a thing of the past and they wandered off in a bemused stupor but in full belief that the ‘power of god’ had cured them. It was too good an opportunity for someone burdened with the mind of a 12 year old to pass by.

By the fire exit in the backstage area, the St Johns Ambulance had their kit, part of which was a wheelchair. The ensuing dialogue when something like this “Get in Dave, were off fuck off, shuddup Dave, get in the fucking wheelchair, you me on stage, this is too good”. I flung Dave in the wheelchair and pushed toward the distant stage. I had no idea how far we would get, but the stage loomed ever nearer until we were flanked by two enormous and very sympathetic “helpers”. We were now in too deep to leave, Dave (who looks a little retarded anyway) was nervously sitting limply in the chair, I was in discussion with one of the helpers about what troubled Dave and suddenly we were there….the edge of the stage.

Strangely, there was no wheelchair access to the stage and so the two very kind but very large helpers hoisted Dave and chair on stage and we edged our way toward this very large black man, sweat raining from his neck and head. We had no contingency plan, I had no concept that we would actually have made it to the stage, I had no idea what would happen when the big black man clamped his sweaty palm on Dave, we were freestyling, with no idea of where this was going or how it would end……

Where it went was both painful and (to my mind anyway) very, very funny.
The big black man lunged at Dave showering him in sweat, screaming some bullshit about gods will and how Daves wheelchair was an implement of the devil; ….what Dave did next stunned even me.
After a second, he leapt from the wheelchair and performed a kind of poorly executed pub version of an irish jig across the stage, until that was, he was crash tackled by one of our kindly helpers who had transformed in the blink of an eye from “helper” to “thug”. Our game was up….Dave and I had our arms twisted behind out backs and frog marched to another exit and literally hoisted and thrown into a bundle of arms and legs on the Brompton Road pavement.
You know when laughter takes over every muscle of your body and you are incapable of even the most rudimentary movement? I was rendered in this state whist Dave stood over me, howling with laughter calling me a stupid cunt, a fucking idiot, punching me, falling over me as we both were rendered hopeless. No-one could have imagines we would make it to the stage, Dave had no idea what he would do, the irish jig was just a spur of the moment gut reaction.
In our stupor we became aware of the door opening and watched helplessly as the airborne wheelchair crashed on us knocking Dave to the pavement causing us to reach another level of screaming stupor.

These are moments one never forget.
It was my version of a scientific experiment but James Randi does it in “An Honest Liar” with so much more panache and reminded me of this moment of life, watch his documentary, its life affirming.

Brilliant…..fuck me…..an Irish Jig…..too good….Daves such a cunt!

why

Ok, its a good question….why would anyone want to read about the mindless nonsense that fills my mind because I have nothing better to do than than think about this shit. Well, something happened about a year ago when I posted on facebook a rant I had about a friends wife. He’s still my friend but she isnt. She isnt because although I was careful not to name her or my friend, she knew exactly who I was referencing.

No big deal… the big deal was the number of people who read the rant, passed it on, put it on different ‘platforms’ and contacted me with their opinions. Over 50K people read my short rant which tells me there are a great many people out there with too much time on their hands.

So….just for fun, I started writing on a subject every week or so and posted the rants on Facebook;  just as a way of making people laugh, get angry, voice an alternative opinion or wile away a few minutes of precious life. I don’t take it seriously, its just fun, but I have a great knack of enraging Americans which makes the endevour all the more enjoyable. Americans and increasingly; Australians have an obsession with Political Correctness and have lost the understanding of irony, which makes them fair game…because by definition, they’re cunts.

Along the way, many people said I should start a ‘blog’, something I may have attempted had I understood what a ‘blog’ was. Its an unattractive word and one which suggests an acronym to a set of tech mumbled geek words like HTTP.  Anyway….time and persistence has lead me here; to my very own ‘Blog’. I may add stuff or not, its my space for £60 a year. For less than the cost of a gram of coke, I can spout endless bullshit without the need to bore a room of equally gacked party goers.

Over time I will introduce pages of the book I am half way through writing. Its called “You’re All Cunts” and it may never be completed because my friendly agent wont publish it, no-one on the Tube train home will want to be seen reading it and too many people (wrongly) find it offensive. Its a semi serious book looking far back in time to the origins of the word and how it has been misused, abused, railroaded and derided over the centuries. Its also offensive; not because of the word ‘cunt’ but by the manner in which I label several of life’s tribes as such. Again…its not a serious journalistic pursuit, its a bit of fun because right now, I have time to indulge in my passion to offend.

….and just for the record, here is the innocuous piece I wrote about a friends wife which kick started this whole process….

My mates wife….

I have a friend; he’s university educated and I thought him intelligent; until I met his wife; shes an imbecile. Now, you may think that I’m being unduly harsh but let me place the evidence before you and let you decide.

1. She believes crystals have power. Crystals, the rocks dug out of the ground that form during the volcanic cooling process and make nice colours and shapes; she thinks they have the power to change the course of your life; by simply rubbing up against them.
 

2: She claims to be a Feng Shui consultant, believing that by changing the direction of your rug, table lamp and light fittings, this will lead to turning you from a self harming, manic depressive to someone eligible to sing on the Mickey Mouse Club!….and shes a ‘consultant’ of this shit, having never been to China, in fact she rarely ventures out of West London and had no knowledge of what Feng Shui translates to (its wind-water). 

Now shes in too deep for redemption….I’m all ears.
3. She talks to a medium and a faith healer.  She…..talks to the greatest snake oil sellers of modern times and alters her life according to their pearls of wisdom. She believes that someone that she has never met prior to handing over her £50, can, by staring into her eyes whilst stifling the desire to laugh out loud, tell her what her life is to become. This, of course, is tantamount to madness. I love people who say ” I’m really spiritual’ …ah no you’re not…you’re gullible…simple.
Well….. am I being harsh or is she just a fucking idiot?

….and on top of this she “does yoga”, but no she doesnt, she simply adopts some of the physical shapes and exercises which make up a small part of yoga.
In fact, I think shes dangerous…..

You tell her you’ve got cancer, her advice would be “dont go to a doctor and get that dangerous medicine and Chemo, grab a few rocks, reposition your table lamp and listen to the advice from some fucking half baked gypo and you’ll get well!
I was furious….but back to my mate; he MARRIED it!
I had to get to the bottom of this so when we had some time together I asked him about some of this nonsense and why, in spite of all this evidence of insanity ; he still fucking MARRIED her!
Now; I was expecting some drivel about how her medium spoke to Aunt Ethel who died 20 years ago and what she said was uncanny; or that the crystals scattered throughout their house gave it a calming effect…..but no; his reply was more direct.

“she had a lovely arse and great tits”
In one sentence he restored my faith in humanity……..