Getaway

I am a frequent flyer
I like to travel
I need to get away from my everyday life

the meritocracy is a lie

The meritocracy is a lie. after 10 15, 30 maybe even 60 years of hard sweat and toil, working at some rotten unfulfilling hole that earns someone else more money than you, in a ludicrous attempt to climb some sort of ladder and join the merchant class , you may come to realise the meritocracy is a lie.

You may question this belief that you have devoted your life to, for the sum total of nothing. You may reject it entirely, and then, even after you have surveyed all the facts, taken in all the evidence and come to the conclusion that any rational man would, you will still choose to go on believing in the lie. For to reject the lie, is to reject your entire life's pursuit, your whole belief system, and to recognise that everything you have ever devoted yourself to has been for nothing. Rejection is to choose to believe that everything you have done has been for no worth , and that the values you have chosen to live by tell you you are therefore of no worth yourself. This is too painful, too much, too full of regret. So instead you will ignore the facts and pursue with the belief in the meritocracy. Choose Jesus over Dinosaurs. And in doing so you will reject the proof that you have known through your own life experience, you will bury the knowledge that hindsight has given you . Instead, to maintain your own worth you will choose to believe, moreover to spread the belief to others that do not have the years of experience to draw from. You will tell them it is true, that they should believe in it too. Because if you do not do this, you are going straight to the hell of disbelief. You will become the Jehovahs witness of social mobility . You will create the social proof that sustains and brings others into the lie. You will perpetuate and feed the misery of another generation.

the fall of the pharaohs

Living in an age of decline. The declinension and reclinension, the retraction. the slow slow fall from the height, the difficulties rectifying a fallen nations state and military prowess with its own self image. Where does the a priori knowledge come from when all is told and learnt from a world of growth. They say oil unlocked the power of fifty slaves for every person, but I still don't have a pyramid. If only I had a pyramid, life would be better If I had a pyramid. But there are no more pyramids being built. There's just not enough to go around. I'd better just have a pyramid tea bag instead. It takes a lot more to get a pyramid these days than it used to. It's even hard to get a pyramid teabag these days. This is the modern problems we face.

he's quite a character

I have never created a character before. Except for perhaps myself. My own personal tribute, my greatest living artwork. My Home, my Mona lisa.

I was deeply disappointed by the lack of both critical and public response

City Spin

I've been thinking about cities. Vast hulking swarming hives city hives. City Spin. City Hive. Bee hive. Behave. Cities grow and grow , rarely falling except with a distinct lack of grace.  Towering, sprawling... and all those other commonly attributed cliches used over one thousand times by over one thousand people in just one day in just one city.  The boundaries drawn around them are futile. Nations. Nations are constructs. Constructed and deconstructed. Nations come and go, rise and fall, empire build, empire fall, monkey see, monkey do. But Cities last. Cities are real, cities are solid, solid brick, solid gold, solid yellow brick road. Blackened though, blackened and sucking of life from the rurality around it, a huge oily carbuncle on soft white skin. Cities are disgusting, not great but disgusting, indeed greatly disgusting. Not gold at all, apart form that it to say black gold. the black gold that runs through the cities streets like veins of a gargantuan pulsating parasite of a carbuncle spewing forth is bilge and guff. All that comes from cities is guff. the art, the literature, the people, the frappucino. The frappucino of a city is a huge stinking pile of unpalatable guff, spewed forth by an oily carbuncle of a parasite as it pulses and drains its life from the land below it. And I'll make mine a grande, with a baby mochachino side.

days like these

days like these leave me feeling blue. days after, days like these.

i wonder if steven "third" reich has days like these

or if its all happy clapping for him as well. 

just the two of us

Just the two of us - we can make it if we try .

hipsters and capitalism that is

a haw haw haw

its a bit like julias theme