Random Musings From the 21st Century

How could I be so simple minded? The question was clearly a probe. And yet I’d answered it like some smug idiot, taking it at face value, rather than recognising the sleight of hand she’d dealt me with her two-line message. When the fuck will I learn to look before I leap?

Life is full of these little pitfalls and for most people, they appear as gaping holes to be avoided. Walked around. But the naive among us seem to walk blindfolded, oblivious to these traps. We are what you might call ripe for the picking, and for the foxes of this world, we must appear as a plump and helpless goose waiting to be eaten alive.

How fucking glorious it must be to be shrewd and cynical, instantly capable of digging down to the heart of the matter! I want to be like one of those Jewish businessmen that peer at the world through screwed-up, beady eyes, as if calculating some killer chess move worthy of Kasparov. Instead, I’m like some lumbering bird that lives on a tropical island with no natural predators. And so when the big, bad pirates come to club me over the head, I just sit there, believing they mean me no harm.


Yes, that’s it: I’ve spent too much damn time in isolation and so have become dumb to the world. I’m like a blunt blade that hasn’t been used or oiled in years. Useless as a killing weapon and, although on the exterior I represent what I was once fashioned to be, try me and you will find that I am merely ornamental.

But enough self-flagellation! I’ve beaten myself up enough over that slip now. So I probably lost her as a viable channel of income but what the hell. I don’t need her. Whatever is meant to be will be. I tell myself these things to ease the sting of rejection and remind myself to be more awake next time. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. So beat my ass with a bootlace, because I’m ready to get tough!

Life isn’t for the feint hearted. You have to get up in the morning, grab your balls and grunt like a moose in mating season. Go get your harem and bang them all. Oh shit! That’s some neanderthal-crazy sexism. Bad human. Must erase these thoughts. Women and men are equal. We’re the same.

I envision a thousand kooky millennials all sat cross-legged, repeating this same bullshit mantra over and over.


We’re becoming like tepid water. Devoid of character and individual thoughts. We say what is socially acceptable and that suits the agenda of the powers that be. A dumb, placid, unthinking population won’t stand up and say, fuck this shit, I’m off to build my house on some green fucking valley.

The sixties were the last vestige of humanity, after that, the cold heartless grind of capitalism got wise to what people can do when they start dreaming. They realised how powerful music can be to change the mind of a nation. What good were a bunch of fucking stoned hippies for the economy? Don’t want a repeat of that now, do we.

So they control the music business, they only want fresh faced easy to market, non-thought-provoking junk these days. The 60s gave me Bob Dylan — a fucking poet. Now we have Justin Bieber — talented but just a product, a piece of merchandise. He’s like a massive walking dollar sign that these fat-cat red-faced devil-worshipping money whores go crazy for. Kerching! Goes their brain when they see the little brat slapping his guitar on YouTube.

Will there ever be another Bob Dylan? Probably not. We’ve gone down the cerebral route. Art is for dreamers. Science, now there’s a worthy cause. Rationalise everything, great. But where’s the room for imagination?

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