Tuesday, 7 December 2010

im fed up of the queen sending me figments of her imagination

send them my regards


An overwhelming, disparagingly large mass of people would readily and happily hard wire a remote control system into their bodies. A button to eat, a button to drink, a button to sleep, a button to walk, run, dance, scratch, smile, frown, read, watch, talk, work, push, pull, hit, press, shake, sit, stand, listen, feel. Remote controls are pioneers of efficiency and in being so are a modest measure of genius. Home entertainment, lighting, car locking, digital cameras, military equipment and all manor of modern electronics utilize remote technology. The idea that the latest and greatest in labour saving gizmos be released without remotes so you can control them whilst sitting on your comatose, inanimate, ambling derrière would render society gobsmacked with shock and fervid disgust.

"However will I fire this nuclear rocket at an unsuspecting 3rd world country without a diamond encrusted, carbon fibre remote with a pulsating, shiny, red button of extirpation to press - served coextensively like a pernicious platter of mass murdering Rudolf nose for my blood spilling delectation."

Well tear my naive limbs from my innocuous body, stick some 2 by 4s in me, dress me in a straw hat, a vintage blazer, carve a wide eyed bodacious, unflinching smile into my face and call me a fucking scarecrow. I just so happen to suppose you'll have to crawl up under that 5 ton hulk of convulsive demolition, hold up a lighter, duck down your head and pray to several, sympathetic Gods simultaneously that you don't get your imperceptive, ignorant, languid fucking eyeballs blown out.

Laziness is a disease. It is contagious, debilitating and cancerous. It has crept through the rigidly controlled, organized, limited and opressed boundaries of civilization and imposed itself on our customs and cultures. Neanderthals weren’t lazy! Shit, do you think the concept of laziness could inflict itself on a primitive, hair enveloped, crooked toothed, hump-backed, stick-wielding predator like a Neanderthal and obtrude into his or her limited consciousness? Hell no! Survival spares no thought for the lazy. What about the sloth? What about the turtle? What about hedgehogs and all the other hibernating, inattentive, lifeless motherfuckers? Well shut up, sit down and take note. There is a difference between the illusion of laziness and conscious laziness. These animals portray the apathetic characteristics our collective imagination associates with laziness. They are however perfectly adapted and suited to the environment they live in. They have no consciousness – they don’t decide to be lazy. Just like the Neanderthals.

We as modern day, super evolved, intelligent humans however are different. Our intellectual prowess gives us the power to innovate and invent. As is said, with great power comes great responsibility, the responsibility in this case being choice. As a conscious, premeditating, rationalizing species we have the choice to exploit and make use of the magnificent tools lain at our feet – or we can choose not to. In a period of evolution where our survival in the industrialized world is no longer a struggle, that is to say – we can do shit, or we can decide not to do shit.

A minority formulates and develops technological advances that seemingly all who are financially viable purchase to further remove themselves from the expenditure of energy. Just as remotes are a measure of genius, technological advancement in general is stimulating and to be applauded. The general attitude behind the mass consumer public buying this shit is a different kettle of fish! In fact, never mind kettle of fish, we’re talking a different café tier of endangered whale right here.

Laziness is found everywhere around you and inside you. From the way we act to the way we talk. The things we do to the things we say. The way we teach to the way we learn. How many people question what they teach, let alone the things they learn? Now it would almost certainly rupture my soul into a shapeless mound of broken soul fragments to bestow upon someone the idea that I might just be an ungrateful, tin-chested, ungracious prick but hold tight, clench hard, buckle up and brace yourselves ‘cos we might just be out of luck on this one; someone recently sent me their regards. Thanks. Thanks for the regards. What shall I do with these newly acquired well wishes, put them in my regards jar with all my other regards and positive implications? Great, maybe one day I’ll pick the jar up to admire my collection of meaningless, inconsequential entities of make believe, drop the jar on my foot and lacerate my Achilles tendon. Again - thanks. Thanks for the regards. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway; the Queen of England? “Send my regards” – thanks for the monumental, condescending effort you put in there you patronizing fuck. If they’re that important to you, send them yourself instead of using a silk cushioned messenger your thoughtless, arrogant Highness.

What the fuck is a regard, literally what the fuck is it? Can you actually answer me that? Regards are hollow and without purpose; regardless. Sending regards is an insubstantial, lazy gesture ill-disguised as a way of attempting to positively influence someone else’s life. It’s custom, one aspect of culture, one practice we indulge in that has no logical thought, meaning or reason behind it. It is a prime demonstration of the fact that no one questions what they say or do or what any of it really means. Intuitive thought amongst the consumer driven masses is harder to come across than a spunk fearing prostitute.

Choose intuition. Encompass and seize responsibility of choice. Negate laziness. Refute acceptability. Question everything. Think for yourself.

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