|I may have mentioned this before, but as I creep ever towards 40, Iím becoming more and more aware I donít belong on this planet.
The way I see it, the streets and airways are infected with hordes of dead glazed eyed people striving to mimic their false idols and cloning themselves, not in a dissimilar fashion to run of the mill zombie shoot em ups but with none of the fine, fine weaponry and gore. In fact every now and again I check my upper left eye for a corpse count and to make sure they havenít been infected too and glazed over. Alas, the zombie count remains at 0, but fortunately my eyes remain as beady and sharp as stoat whoís just sat on stinging nettle.
So, as I shine my green laser pen in to the night sky in the hope I can catch a lift out of here with the Vogon Ďs and not attract another police helicopter, Iím left wondering if weíve always been like this, or has something actually infected our minds, as depicted time and time again in horror films and stories where good seems to prevail over evil, but right before or after the credits, evil sneaks back in through the back door leaving an opening for a sequel (*): And if so, as this evil has corrupted each generation further, is it moulding the world in itís nefarious image: And if so, how could we have been tricked in the first place by this evil whoís true form must be one of these over emotional reality show types who have just got to be judged at all times as they mime the talented.
Ask any Pagan and they put the initial blame on the Church. The trusted establishment who started off their business by taking a planet minding itís own business, and then fuck it right up.
And so, as anyone who was mildly different was extinguished then, the trend continues today; but in a more hygienic fashion.
So, perhaps weíre hiding, scared to stick our head up and see what lies beyond the comfort and safety of numbers; However we shouldnít trust something just because itís been around for a bit especially if itís roots weíre based on murdering people.
The other side of the coin isnít much better either. I myself was born, raised and seem to be stuck in place where, Ďmildly differentí was a bad thing. Itís like been stuck in a town from an uncomfortable horror novel; there seems to be no escape and all roads out only lead to a patch of brown fog and the road back in as the yokels force you back in your cage.
Eventually I gave up, grew a hairy hunchback and locked my door to the world, so with that and an awful job is where Iíve been ever since.
My notable achievements so far are -
This Sunday Iím going to my Mothers house for dinner. No big deal in itself, I know; but there will be people Iíve never met there before and that brings a cold sweat to my hairy palms as I know Iím about to be yanked from my own un-comfort zone, used as a Mr. Belvedere for the evening and struggle not to come across as a social retard, especially when Iíve been told to prepare myself as two of the guests have an alternative sexual preference. Again, I know itís no big deal, but imagine youíve just introduced the M62 outer ring road to Stig of the dump or shown a six year old Ian McShane a photo of an older and hairier him as Lovejoy; imagine the horror and panic attacks that would ensue, and in my case followed by a barrage of unintentional double entedres as my own social skills were honed at an early age with Carry On films, which only skirted round the topics of homosexuality with smutty comments followed by, Ďcomedy piccoloĎ, as they camply say to Sid James, ďYour lossĒ and flamboyantly walk away with one hand on a hip; that and the Dick Emery character 'Honkey Tonk', were my only points of reference, that is until the Cosby show started in 1984 and dealt with many real life topics, not one of which I have ever needed; but then again may have if Iíd found a way out of this town, interacted with the human species and realised most people are great after all.
But I didnít.
(*) See Rawhead Rex - The benchmark for all good horror films.
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