SLACKERS OF THE WORLD UNITE!

Calling all slackers, idlers , loafers and thinkers. 

Now is the time to come forth and meet with other like minded souls, who share your lack of drive for socially expected forms of ambition and success. The day draws near for you  put aside the reasons/excuses for your continuing failure to burst forth into the world of the proactive "doers" and shuffle forward from the shadows of self doubt, disappointment in most things, general detachment of the observer and not really being bothered about anythingness. 

How many of  you  ponder and mull over ideas, thoughts, observations and theories on life that if they ever saw the light of day, would , as you know really but just can't be bothered to try and find out, turn the world of the every day  on its very head!

How many of you had that idea about the solar powered house  of the future, pondered the theory of space time, have stood beneath the majesty of the night sky and questioned life's true meaning or planned to conquer that towering peak only to be distracted by something shiny, got too drunk to stand up, ate too much or just decided to stay in bed instead?

Your time is now!

Whether you find yourself in a stifling office job you thought  would never  be your future or hide your true insights behind  a sarcastic contempt for the modern world and the money driven machine it has become you cannot stay hidden for much longer.

Tear your eyes from the television,throw down your gaming pads,don't open the last bottle of this nights four pack,

  rise from your settees, focus the scattered thoughts that crackle and spit around your minds like fireworks and come forth...

The World needs you!!!!

WANTED..

Cause to follow , fight to fight or something to believe in.

Would prefer something not  environment or World based, looking more for something people based

Size and condition not important.Will either  pick up or can be delivered, which ever is easiest.

In return will provide boost in confidence, help with recognition of abilities and the reassurance that you are  people who can do things they perhaps don't yet realise.

The unsure, the underdogs and the direction less need only apply......

Off to the land of Swedish flat pack furniture,


Heavy rain on the M6 and the wagons throw up great clouds of fizzing spray.
Rumbling on like huge blind beasts, competing for space and speed regardless of everything around them. The sound of their engines is their bellow. The small  almost unreadable signs on their back ends displaying the  the warning "If you can't see my mirrors then I can't see you" never fill me confidence but then again I suppose it's better than them saying "get  close enough to read  this and you'll be dead if anything goes wrong".  
The need to get past them is overwhelming.




Arrival at the big blue shed  with the yellow writing and I'm amazed at the number of people there. I'm on holiday, what are they doing? My years of working with the jobless kick in and I automatically make a comment about mass unemployment. I'm berated for this so  I  change tack and suggest the entire population of Mersyside and surrounding environs is enjoying a day off too. 


 After this overt judgement of my fellow man, I double up on the mistakes and  misjudge the slowly revolving door, narrowly avoiding being wedged  up against the door frame. That would  have been a day to remember, having to be freed by teenagers in yellow T shirts, whilst being scowled at by people wanting to get home so they can get started on putting together that new style defining TV cabinet or Japanese/Swedish influenced chair they've just purchased. In the real world,my wife, who turns to laugh at me, is already inside. Watching what I'm doing this time, I step into the wonderful world of endless lifestyle choices.


After  the obligatory toilet visits have been attended to and I've equipped myself with the necessary yellow bag, I find myself waiting and as I look around, I'm suddenly faced with a large map of The World, which for some reason,  has been stuck on the wall outside the toilets. I half expect to see little yellow flags dotted around it and a key to inform me of how many of the big blue sheds there are Worldwide and  how because of this, the indigenous peoples in remote parts of The World, can still enjoy a nomadic or more natural lifestyles than ours whilst being contemporary in their choice of Yurt or Long house soft furnishings. This isn't the case, so I busy myself looking for Tibet instead. Suddenly my wife is behind me and I am drawn back to the actual  the reason for being here,the desire to home improve.
 As we go through the big internal doors, I notice the sole occupant of the seated area designed for children. As there is some brash, day glo coloured noise coming from a flat screen on the wall I assume it must be for children . It isn't a child but is in fact a single adult male. He's the same shape as a toddler but the beard gives it away. He isn't watching the noisy mess, just staring slack jawed at his phone and  looking beaten. A casualty of the brightly colour kitchen ware wars I imagine, left behind by his squad. 


Before we start properly, food is suggested and I take the opportunity to test for myself the fabled meatballs I've heard tales of. After seating is found and I've stood and observed the people in front of me in the drinks queue,  the consuming begins. The verdict is unanimous. Should the rest of the day be nothing more than a tiring precursor to an argument, they are without doubt excellent and will be looked upon as a saving grace. Food done, real life continues


We're inside and the barrage begins. Woods, plastics and metal  beaten, bent and sculpted into every shape imaginable. Cupboards, side boards, storage solutions, lighting ideas all accompanied by the black and white images of those who have transformed their vision into these life enhancing, labour saving and above all else stylish necessities for modern life. Does putting the picture of the designer on something make it more accessible? I suspect it does. People will think  "they made this for me, if I own it, I'll be be owning part of someone's vision, something unique and....stylish".


As we walk around we come to my favourite part of the whole place, the mock ups of living areas. I love these, pretend  worlds that you can have as your own. The whole package of modern existence displayed for all to see. Every area needed for modern living in thirty five square metres,or less of space.Lives could be lived out in these little boxes, literally.
 What strikes me about them every time I see them is how much like the reality they are for people in some countries of The World and if not now, how they will be in the future.The amount of space used to display a possible life style, is the actual amount some people live in on a daily basis. Space for each of us is decreasing as we increase ourselves over and over. The desire for personal space and definition of character overrides the possibility of a cramped future.
 My tour of the imagination continues. I move into a fully modern styled kitchen constructed from metal and sculpted wood and suddenly I'm the only person on board a deep space flight to an unknown star system and then the illusion is shattered as I come across a couple from The Wirral with a baby buggy in tow discussing the bathroom I've walked into. The façade cracks and I'm back to find I'm needed to  discuss kitchen tables. 


I can be childish in my dealings with reality, I'm well aware of that but am I any more childish than those who see lifestyles as the answer to their problems? Perhaps that's just another assumption, I'm good at them.


The kitchen table is great by the way...

Don't.....






What is it about panic? Why do we seem to need to do it at every possible opportunity?
The notion of something happening that's going to affect the day to day continuation of everything is always going to bring out strong emotions from one area of the public or other, so when it's rumoured that fuel supplies are going to be in short supply  due to  impending  industrial action by those charged with supplying us, the notion of "Keep calm and carry on" just pus sticks and leaves Dodge .


I'm never sure if it's a national or indeed an international thing but the reaction to almost every rumour or any threat to the normal running of the whole show  is , well, panic.
Is it something we need to do? Something we just can't be human without. Do we,as creatures, have to have something to worry about?  Did my distant ancestor, sitting in his animal pelts, suddenly think one day "Shit, that's a big wall of ice moving really slowly towards me I better panic about it" or did he just work his way around the coming change it would bring?


It's easy to suspect that we may have lost something somewhere, some part of our coping mechanism that enables us to just think about it and decide to do something else rather than sit in our little metal boxes and join a line of slow panic. That's it though, we can't can we. We have to do this because we have no other way of being any more, cogs and wheels in the great big machine of the system that's slowly bleeding us dry. It's just not an option for us to say if it comes to not getting to work on time,or at all, then that's kind of the end of it. Everything is geared  towards us panicking. I myself found that I'd inadvertently joined a queue for petrol after turning in to the nearest Sainsbury's after work. Instantly I thought "I don't want to be queuing, I don't want to, I don't need to. All these people walking past now will think I'm one of those panic buyers aaarrrggghh"!  

There are many reasons why our reaction to things are the way they are. The obvious one is media coverage which  , for the main part , seems to enhance any situation like this in a totally unhelpful way. I don't think this is a new thing, it's just  more accessible in so many varied ways now. Years ago, people had to wait to find things out, now it's instant and  always updating, bombarding us with information and images we can't really process.  Too many pictures to see the big one.People have access to at least the rumour of a story before they know what it is or what to make of it.


 Possibly, the biggest influence on our reactions at the moment is what's happening around us on an economic and political scale. Along with the threats of strike ,redundancy, the demise of The Western World and all other possible unhappy endings, we have people in charge that just don't seem to get it, any of it. The men in suits seem to want to carry regardless of how it makes them look, doing the same old things and reacting to the challenges of government in the same old ways . For me, there's no one definite example of their misjudging of  life in modern Britain, except the"advice" one of them gave earlier this week about preparing for said fuel shortages by "Storing a jerry can of petrol in your garage". Top marks to the fellow  for assuming everyone in the country has a garage to store petrol in and for using the words "jerry can". I believe the last time I actually saw a jerry can was on the History Channel a couple of nights ago, on the back of a Jeep that was full of Americans who had just landed in Normandy. How I wish he 'd gone the whole hog and said "Get your driver to fill it next time he fills the Jag up " . The rest of their tomfoolery  is mainly based around attempts to show their understanding of the every day man and woman on the street by pretending to have even been near any form of hot pastry based fast food ,let alone eaten it, when they've made a fuck up of not really thinking about how to justify the VAT they now want stick on it or allowing themselves to be photographed taking part in activities at one of their childrens' private schools sports days as if it makes them any more a part of the ordinary things they're so obviously aren't.


All in all, it looks as though it's up to us to control our own panic, how we react to the ever increasing nonsense that's coming our way. These things won't stop and no mater who's steering the ship and which fools are crewing it, we will always suffer for their inability to solve our problems on such a large scale and our own expectations that somehow they can.


And if something does happen, remember ..... 

Nietzsche's eternal Bakewell.

Sitting in a cafe yesterday, I started listening to the couple next to us.


  Derek or Graham or insert name here, wasn't sure where his order was and when he finally got it, it wasn't what he asked for. Normally, I wouldn't pay that much attention but just at that moment, I'd started reading the first few pages of The Unbearable Lightness of Being, which I'd just bought from  a nearby charity shop. As Derek or Graham,  began to work at his sweet looking Danish Pastry "It's not a Bakewell,I asked for a Bakewell, they're over there at the front of the glass", It was at that exact moment my eyes were taking in the words on Nietzsche's idea of eternal return.Everything has happened and will happen again and again just as we have experienced it before, for ever and ever.


I was struck by  something as I sat and read. Over the past few years, I've been drawn to  reading books that seem to have in them the same sort of theory or something in the story has the same purpose or motif. Everything repeats, if not forever, then at least until some different path is taken at some point in the replay process, taking whoever, wherever they should be rightfully be. This can be on to some next level or different ending to this round of illusion  they're currently existing in. Ideas of life based on circles, replaying of past events, having to go through past lives until the right outcome is achieved.  Perhaps this explains my reluctance to do things at the Weekend, I've done it before and somewhere, deep inside my reoccurring memories, I know it wasn't really that good a day out thank you so I'd just as well not bother driving to Wales if it's all the same, we just fall out when we get there, believe me, I have to stop in and play Skyrim, it's what's supposed to happen.


The non circular point of all this is that Derek or Graham,should the above in fact be the case, has gone through the entire" Danish not a Bakewell" episode a million times, he'll go through it another million without realising it and his wife will have to look slightly embarrassed all over again while he goes through his making a fuss without wanting to make a fuss thing he was doing so well.


I did feel the impulse to say "Look,it's  a cake. It's possible you've done this over a million times and you'll do it all over again so just eat the bloody thing, enjoy it". I didn't of course  and in this round of here now, I never will . Saying things like that to people in small cafes/ delis in Cheshire can bring about unrest, at least I think it can, I don't really know, I've never done it..have I ?


 When next I sit near Derek or Graham , in the same cafe, reading the same words that make me sit up and think the same things for the first time, again, maybe I should act on the sudden impulse to say something, will I , am I supposed to?
Will the built up resonance of  endless replaying of  this event over timeless occasions finally burst through the wall of my concious mind and allow me to see what's really going on? Will my sudden interjection of "Derek...we've been here before, you don't get the Bakewell"! into the eternal replaying of this sweet pastry based incident lead to any change in his  looped life or indeed  my own?.Will it let us both move that little bit further forward towards our true and yet unknown destinies? Will it make Derek come to some startling life altering decision  or will it, as I suspect, lead to at least a stern rebuke, a look of incomprehsion or possibly into a fight with a disgruntled man from the Northwest who's reached the end of his cake tether? 


The question is,is it worth the Bakewell?
I have no way of knowing , at least , I don't think I do....


On the plus side, my scone was lovely, although, I would have preferred real cream as opposed to the squirty sort we got. 


I'll mention it next time around....

WHAT CAN YOU DO ?

Ordinary morning, people doing what they do.


Sudden raised voice cutting through the low level noise that fills the centre .
My feet do that thing where they take me towards somewhere I know the rest of me doesn't really need to go, my head tells me this more than once. 
The voice carries up the corridor followed by a softer one, explaining the present  situation but  in a tone that suggests it's aware that this conversation is going to be mostly one way. 


I'm in the door way by now and can now see the owner of the  voice that's being raised. A big furry Russian Tank Commanders hat sits atop a small red blotchy face, an angry imp of a man meets my stare, half in and half out of his chair.
"What can you do for me. I mean, what can you do for me"? Full on slur and pointing, demanding an answer.


It's been a while since we've had a "kick off". The mixture of frustration, breaking of the daily living in the pub based routine and a fair bit of drink all rolled into one tight malignant little ball. Welcome to the world as seen through the eyes of the alcoholic  long term unemployed. I'd like to put it a different way, make it sound softer but what's the point. My colleague is informing him that nothing is going to be done, not today, not while he's  like this.


Again "What can you do for me"? followed by  a clapping of his hands, as if to bring home his point. Then a question"Who's that"? as beady red eyes semi focus on me. He leaves his seat and is suddenly standing between us. 


We then coerce, via pleasant , reassuring talk and subtle hand co ordination, leading him away from the rest of the group, towards the stairs and the outside world. He still wants to know what we can do but now he's a bit rattled.
"What can you fucking well do for me? I'll tell you what, nothing, you're fucking useless all of you"!


Mumbling and stumbling, we continue this stale beer fumed, drunken ranting waltz until we're down the stairs and almost at the doors. He seems to realise this and starts again with his angry, hesitant and looped enquiring . I tell him that he needs to go home and come back when he feels better. I don't say what I want to say, that we can't do anything until he stops doing this to himself. Nothing until he want's to end his affair with the bottle. None of that comes out.


For now, we wait until he loses his thread, a gentle push and he's out into the early Spring sunshine.


For now.

The endless snapping of modern office life continues at my heels.
Ever more,  ways of convincing me that revering back to childhood would be a good move are thrust in front of me under the guise of being important. 


A warning for those on the edge of becoming a grown up, those who desire to be older...stop.Once you start, you cannot stop. You will never be able to get back to who you are now no matter how much you're convinced you can by those wanting to sell you lifestyles.You will learn too much and it will blight you. 


It is the grown up world and it will darken your soul....