The Internet is a beautiful thing and a wonderous gift to humanity, even though it is undoubtedly corrupting our politics and destroying the moral fabric of society. This morning I started off reading about Saint Andrew’s Day and ended up on a page about lesbian vampires. How the devil did that happen? What does it say about the perilous state of my mind? Let alone my sexual proclivities. And what would my therapist say? If I even had a therapist. I blame the damn hyperlinks. They are so distracting. I hardly ever get through an entire article without my attention being hijacked by something else potentially more interesting. It’s the same in my offline life too. I’ve always been like this. My first teacher Miss Hilary diagnosed the problem which was obvious even then. It’s right there in black and white in my first school report card. – Keith is easily distracted. He must try harder. – Wow! That still hurts Miss Hilary. I was barely seven years old. And don’t think I forget the time you whacked me with the ruler when you had me alone in the cloakroom. I still don’t know what I was meant to have done wrong, although no doubt most seven year old boys deserve a good thrashing every now and again. Just to keep them in line and to serve as a warning of further punishments to come.
Don’t Panic Mr Mainwaring. Brexit Means Brexit!
Brexit means Brexit according to the UK Prime Minister. Theresa May. Chief architect of the hostile environment for immigrants at the Go Home Office. The bloody-minded midwife of the Windrush scandal. The dancing queen of disaster who has turned humiliation into an art form on the national and international stage.
It’s a neat slogan. Brexit means Brexit. Easy to remember. Nicely packaged. And designed to appeal to simple minded optimists and deluded idiots alike. Sadly no one bothered to work out in advance what it actually means in practice. And when you get down to brass tacks you are immediately confronted with a brick wall. That’s the problem with meaningless tautologies. They don’t take you very far. And you end up going round and round in circles till you’re so dizzy that you just want to lie down in a dark room and throw up.
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Writers Tip #22
When I really just can’t get out of bed in the morning – when I am utterly depleted and find myself in a near catatonic stupor, when my body is paralysed and I lack the strength and mental capacity to move a single muscle or formulate a coherent thought – I turn to the Samuel Beckett motivational technique.
Take a deep breath and repeat the following phrase three times:
You must get up. I can’t get up. I’ll get up
You must get up. I can’t get up. I’ll get up
You must get up. I can’t get up. I’ll get up
You can say it out loud or just in your head. Whichever you prefer. It doesn’t seem to matter. But it works like a charm every time!
Now, grab some coffee and cigarettes or any other readily available stimulants before heading to the typewriter. It’s a brand new day and there’s no time to waste.
Bonus tip: This incantation may also work for male impotence problems but has not been tested and cannot be guaranteed. If in doubt, readers should seek medical advice from a qualified health professional. Or simply look online for a whole range of useful suggestions, practical instructions, pills, powders, potions, lotions, and assorted home remedies. Terms and conditions apply. Refunds not available.
15 January 2019
“You must go on. I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”
― Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable
William the Bastard
William the I of England, better known as William the Conqueror, and sometimes also as William the Bastard was a vicious thug, a paranoid maniac and a homicidal despot. Slaughter, mayhem and tyranny were the tools of his trade and his greed and cruelty were legendary.