Sunday, May 31, 2009
I just read the end of Mysterious Stranger by Mark Twain. I didn't bother with the rest of it because I just wanted the conclusion. I do this all the time now. All beginnings are just padding for the conclusion in fictional works. No point wasting time on padding just get it over with. I'm too old to waste time on padding. See? I am going nuts.
Getting back to my point--- If you read this last bit of Twain's short story your mind will become twisted. Mine has. Read it. Go nuts. Bye.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Anything I say to a younger person, no matter their age is greeted with " I know". I'm now short on confidence. Because I know that everything I know is already known by those younger than me. Children 8 and 9 years old know everything. I talk to them like they are older than me. They are so quick to pick up my failed or obsolete ideas. I am always corrected by these little brainiacs.
And don't get me on young women. Wow! They are light years ahead of me. I am really honored that they even entertain a small conversation with me. Their minds are so full of knowledge I feel like crawling away and hiding in a hollow log in the forest and praying for an evolutionary jump to come my way so I can somehow keep up with their superiority.
Unfortunately I now have learned the major lesson in life. The older we get the less we know. I know it sounds silly but this truly is the way it goes. At about age 8 the current generation of kids get a sort of divine spark of knowledge. They are given it all in an instant. In the old days we had to learn but that is all finished now. Every young person just knows. They know that they know it all. This is why they say "I know " all the time. And they have to constantly correct our mistaken ideas when conversing with us oldies. It must really drive them mad the poor little darlings.
Anyway I will keep plugging away at things in the hope that one day I may be able to hold my own with these super intellectual babies. It's only after I earn their respect that one day they may let me take charge of my own life. This is my dream. Until then kids rule- of course.
Friday, May 29, 2009
But the most interesting phobia she has is of the dishwasher. She will bring her dirty dishes to near proximity to the nasty thing but she can't bring herself to actually load them in. They just sit there waiting for some brave person, and that would be me, to load it all in.
I find it really interesting and I am not annoyed by these things at all. Oh no. They don't upset my day in the least. I just keep doing the same things over and over and over. I would have liked being a slave I think. Well, I am now really and I really like it. I feel so------well, so------ I could have said used but really I think the word is needed.
Yes. That's it. I feel needed. Mind you she is 25. It may just be time she got the idea that we don't come into this life with a prepackaged slave attached. But if she did- well, I wouldn't feel needed any more. And I don't think I could handle that.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Here's my take on it. You catch it usually from someone having kicked your guts in.
It's a big one and much more complex than plain old anger. We all have an element of bitterness. Like in all mental conditions, it is only a problem when it becomes a problem. Otherwise it is completely normal to have bitter thoughts from time to time. And don't forget. We have all had our guts kicked in at some time or other. If you think you haven't then you are the total arsehole who has been the one doing all the kicking.
Oh good! I was beginning to think I was an arsehole. Now I know I'm a really good guy because all my wives have kicked my guts in and run away not the other way round. So I must be the good guy.
I was beginning to think I had a problem here on overthinking. A great many of my posts could be seen as bitter. We can see that -too easy. So take your smart-arse cap off.
I said to my totally good-worded girlfriend that I write all this crap to let it out in a controlled way. In this way it stays where it belongs, here, harmlessly festering on some insignificant site on the net not in the real world. Some people let it out with a drink or six. Not me. I'm a good boy I am. I let it out here like a true wimp that I am. Though, hopefully it helps you let it out too when you read me letting it out.
Yep we're all one big happy family in the real world aren't we. But here we are bitter little arseholes.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Here is an example of how useful the internet is in establishing the truth of something. In this example the Australian economic outlook as of today:
"This is turning out to be quite a nice recession for Australia.
Aussie GDP has fallen just 0.5 per cent, compared to nearly 10 per cent in Japan, 4.6 per cent in Europe and 2.6 per cent in the US. Unemployment has actually decreased according to the latest data and is now at 5.4 per cent – at least two percentage points below other western countries, where unemployment is rising quickly." [ Alan Kohler -Business Spectator today]
Economy continues to falter: survey
"The Australian economy continues to falter due to the global economic downturn, a survey shows." [ The Age today]
See how useful the internet is? Is it any wonder my opinions constantly flip flop. It's like trying to hold onto a small board in a rough sea for safety. I feel like just curling up my tootsies on an intellectual level sometimes. It's lucky I was never really smart in the first place or I would be a total neurotic mess, like my ex wife is. She believes everything she reads and it's messed with her head big time. She spends her time preparing to run away from everything; in being afraid-very afraid. She reads the internet looking for the latest on doomsday scenarios. Yep. She sure knows how to have a good time. This is why we are ex now I think.
Cruft in the brain- that's what we've got.
Monday, May 25, 2009
But this is about the types of people who think because they have a few quid they can push everyone else around. They think the reason they are well off is because they behave the way they do and because it seems rewarded they keep inflicting themselves on us in their rude and pumped up way. I can't stand them.
Here's what they do. They see a business that has shut down. All the blinds are drawn the place is sealed up and for all intent and purpose to any casual observer- nothing's happening so move on. Not these people. To them it is a matter of waking the dead. They have the power to do that they think.
So it knock on the door ring on the bell I'm gonna knock and tap and ring until you do.
They are irresistible . One thinks that there is an emergency right there at the front door and is compelled to respond accordingly. To these types of people- life , their life, is urgent. If I had hair it would have been certainly standing on end by the time I got to the door. Swing the door open to see this worked up piece of work gesticulating about "are you closed- how can this be - you are closed - I can't believe it- closed- wow." I should have replied with:" No I'm not fucking closed - you just banged the door down so no I'm not closed." But I didn't. I'm just such a polite wimp- I missed my chance. And they put out this aura of- you may just make a fortune out of me if you entertain my rudeness. This is the key to how they operate. YOU JUST MAY MAKE A FORTUNE OUT OF ME. That's what sucks you in every time.
Next time! Stuff it- I'm gonna head butt one of these fuckers right outta my front yard-- no I won't- because I JUST MAY MAKE A FORTUNE OUTTA ONE OF THEM. Doesn't it shit you the way they win all the time?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
But let's get our hands really dirty here. I'm brave.
The answer I am always given by those I know to be at the top of the scale of self absorption, young women, is that it is just the way it is. Well I don't think it should be that way at all. We should grow up but we don't.
Sometimes I think it will be good when I'm dead. I won't have to listen to such self obsessive person. Guys do it a bit but they are usually female because I am informed by them that this is their natural way because they are made like this and it is just part of being a female to be so Oh my Gooood!! Awesome Amazing and worked on. Oh yeah- let's not forget insecure- this is the big one. The mirror was the worst thing ever invented. It turned 50% of the human race into self observing insecure nitpickers for a good percentage of their life.
Luckily this is tied up with the process of reproduction so then nature takes its sweet revenge. These self pampering creatures end up with a creature who demands they look at them whilst they grow and start looking at themselves in the mirror ever more and more.
Then later in life, after all this job of rearing is done what does a poor woman do? She goes back to looking at herself in the mirror and mourns the loss of the beauty she once thought she had. And she is again insecure. And I bloody well hear about it all-non-stop-all day-every day- from some woman or other.
Me? A misogynist? Sometimes. Sorry.
Postscript: 27th May
I wrote this post last Saturday morning- put it up but then took it down. I was afraid that it sounded too--- well,--- too nasty.
That evening I go down to my girlfriend's. I walk in and what do I see? Three teenage girls; all looking into a mirror- spinning around looking at themselves from every angle in a close scrutiny beyond the scientific process of analysis of split atomic particles.
Yep. I am a prophet people. Or else I am creating reality. How powerful am I?
Girls look at themselves in mirrors and I look at myself in the brain. Who has the problem?
Friday, May 22, 2009
My girlfriend and I were flat on our backs with a rotten cold you know, feeling like ten penneth of God help us. When there was a ring on the front doorbell. I had no intention of answering it. Then there was another ring. I still had no intention of action. Then there was a third and a fourth. I thought well it must be urgent so raised my sick body, dragged on some clothes and went downstairs and answered it. There was a nondescript Euro-styled and spoken gentleman at the door looking at me as though I should recognize him. I didn't.
So in he came like a whirlwind talking rapidly like some kind of German made machine gun. My head was so clogged up and spinning I couldn't make out too much but it was something to do with him knowing me from the past and how he knew I worked with sound recording then- which I did. Any way he had this project on and I was given all the importance of this project over about 10 minutes of rapid fire non'stop talking in a thick accent which left me guessing every 10th or 11th word and not understanding much about the sentence leading up to it anyway. You know, I was simply not there.
Somehow I managed to understand that he was doing radio ads and he wanted me to quote on doing them and it was worth about 2 to 300 per week. Great. I think I might have a handle on it. He passed several judgements about how this person and that person were lazy and this is an opportunity and that I should grab it with both hands. He also made several personal and insulting remarks about yours truly not being on it and all that even though I told him I was full of cold and then he left offering a few other random insults and judgements. Mmmm I thought- pain- in- the- arse. Back to bed and rest the head.
That night I had a dream. I dreamed that this same guy engaged me to cook a feast for some big party he was giving. I cooked a turkey roast and his lackeys picked it up and took it to his big event. I went to the event to check everything was ok and opened the oven to find the turkey was burnt black. Now we can see my dream was warning me.
Next day he phones. I announce my lack of interest in recording his ads. He was most surprised. Turns out he wants 2 to 300 ads recorded per week not 2 to 300 hundred dollars a week that I thought it was about. He threw out some figure of between half and a million dollars worth of business. My ears suddenly pricked up. Money money money---it will do it every time--- and this was real serious money. So again it's on the table.
So I sit down with my trusty pencil and work it all out. Looking at it from a point of view- there's big money in advertising. I was liberal with my figures. I was in a dream of - the ship has finally come in. No more struggling artist- this is it! I bashed everyone's ear on whether I should go for it or not and whether the guy was a bullshitter etc etc.
Cut a long story short. He was. He was one of those types who throws out the big money that lures you in to quote then says--I don't want to pay that much. Quoting is like the game- I am thinking of a number see if you can guess what it is. My guess was not the right answer. The buzzer goes and it's see you later. How often over my life this has happened- I have lost count. Dreamers and their give me a quote game. It gives them a sense of power and that's what they get off on I'm sure. I even said to him why didn't you just tell me how much you wanted to pay. He skated overthat comment. I know his game. There are so many like him.
The burnt turkey dream was spot on.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
We are not that amazing. We think we are but we are simply evolving animals with a hunger for comfort. Entertainment is comfort. It stops us remembering that we are gonna die-it takes our mind off it. Unlike religion which is just a soother when we remember- entertainment is what we are about for really covering up the whole tragic mortality thing. Everything that we make is geared towards more comfort; we had the raw survival stuff in place ages ago. Now we make big about the icing on the cake. That's where the money is. But really nothing has changed as far as I can see. Walkmans in the 70's and Ipods in the 00's- who bloody cares? They both do the same thing.
Take these bloody typing devices we sit on all day. And I'm talking about the personal computer not the serious ones that do breakthrough in discoveries and such.Rather these ( more breakdown than breakthrough types) home ones have not in any way really improved anything. We keep getting told that they have. But I think all they have really added to this society is first a new addiction and second a filter on communication but mainly a huge distraction from what is important for the masses. Note here that I will also include the mobile phone as a personal computer because it really is one.
Mind you I have mates who stuck with the bottle for their addiction and distraction in life and their brains are just about as damaged as the rest of us now. But yeah, pc's, P bloody C's. Everyone's got one and don't they feel so special just having one? Can't live without 'em--- don't leave home without one. Most everything we do on them doesn't really need to be done- we think it does but really it doesn't. We want to be part of it- not left behind though so we do it. Like I do with these stupid rambling rantings.
For all that- we have never been expected to work harder and longer- we are expected to produce more and more yet for all the buildup of the marvels of the pc---- productivity is dropping in just about anything they are involved in- or in the office at least. Paperwork was more efficient. Odd thing is we use more paper than ever before so the pc revolution hasn't even cut back on that as was promised. This is because they inherently distract us. We go into a sort of mind numbing journey of never ending distractions from the path we originally set out on every time we look at them.
Anyway bored with this rant- back to surfing. I love pc's. They are such fun.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
This depends on whom I am talking to but there rarely seems to be an in between. You know, someone whom one can relax with and feel no pressure to keep it all good between us.
This has lead me to entertain that maybe the world is going mad and me with it and that the end times are truly coming. Mankind seems to be so neurotic now that we appear to be like some creature who looks into the approaching calamity and decides the best option is to go stark raving crazy before the pain hits. And it is evidenced by our communication.
But there is probably no grounds to draw this connection. It's just me struggling to relate as I grow older and grumpier due to my decreasing testosterone levels. Yes. That's it. It's just me.
It's like people think by acknowleding their imagination they are putting down the importance of their thoughts. Their thought goes: It's gotta be real not imaginary because it felt so real to me. And they are so quick to spin the magic than to accept they have a powerful imagination.
It's the same in religion. All religion is magic. It fills the whole thing with magic as the cause of the mystery and it gets away with all kinds of strange occurences if in fact they ever really happened with a large amount of supernatural magic type thoughts. We are supposed to be magic thinkers to be holy and good people but if we think magic outside say the bible's notions well then we are just plain delusional. But between these extremes no-one mentions good old fashioned imagination. Religion is just a work of human imagination. It is so obvious. Just look at your plain old life people--it's mundane--really!!! Get over it!! Stop trying, and trying is the operative word, to make it bigger by enlisting magic.
Of course as an artist I am a big fan of imagination. I go with it. It works. And all the crazy flights I have and you have witnessed here in my blog- well they are just that- crazy fun flights of imagination full of whatifs and maybe's. But people!!! You are all so serious. You are swallowing so much crap. You have lost - well you probably never had- the ability to set aside reality from imagination. Because you don't understand your imagination then you take everything as real. You put every little mystery into a belief structure and it is a high and mighty structure I tell you. But it should fall. In 2009 it should fall. We should let go of all the old thinking and start afresh with our imagination proudly alongside. And know that life is plain, boring but incredible and fascinating and imagination takes it into a whole other world.
An unreal world though.
Now back to my latest project which is designing symbols that will change reality.
Monday, May 18, 2009
I can't see how these vast emporiums exist. Everytime I wander into them one word comes to me- overdone. How can a business support the cost of running such excessive retail space. It's just so spread out- so spacious- so well lit- so staffed- so empty of customers.
I have a theory that it may just be The Dead Zone. It is unreal. The staff all have a faraway look on their faces. It's like they are from the dead zone- really. They are dressed in black and they look sort of timeless. The fashion of their sales outfit is like 50 years in the past. They wear old fashioned watches and their jewellery is the kind of stuff my grandmother left to us.
Whilst we were at one of the counters my theory was proven. A younger sales woman approached an older one who was serving a woman ahead of us. She leaned into her ear and whispered something into the older sales ladies ear. A kind of mystical expression came over her face- like she had come into very important yet disturbing knowledge. It was as though she had received a message from above.
See! I knew it! The Dead Zone!!!!!!!! Money doesn't mean anything in this place. It is beyond space and time and you are there as in a dream. It's another dimension. My search is over. I have found the lost dimension- emporiums. One day they will simply not be there and it will be as though they were never there in the first place. I will be telling my grand children about these places and their eyes will be wide with amazement. Yes! It will be that hard to believe.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Even with all the ease of my days I still manage to find something to feel negative about. This can be bloody difficult sometimes but I persist until I do. And this is a great thing. I won't bend to the onslaught of happiness. I will resist. After all, how else can I be happy when I am only happy bitching about things? I love to get down and dirty with a real good gripe. My day is not complete if I can't let out some kind of smart-arse comment on life or the universe or something. Having nothing to complain about would mean that I am dead.
All this giving thanks for small mercies thing- forget it- find something to pick on. It is an art form. Any fool can be happy.
And I don't want to be seen as a fool. True genius is only displayed by a miserable attitude. All those difficult personalities we so admire in the media- they put smart arsed misery on show and because of this they are held as artistic types- geniuses. Now that's how I see myself. So expect more misery people- misery is good.
Friday, May 15, 2009
I used to say that I was studying quantum physics in order to boost people's impression of my intelligence. It worked in those days because it hadn't hit the pop culture of the time. Now every man and his dog are "studying" it.
We can see that it's really a wank can't we? And by this I mean the "study" of it and the actual subject itself. The whole thing is a total absurd piece of clap trap. Einstein tried to warn us all those years ago but we wouldn't listen. So here we are in the next century still carrying on about this absurd thing. It's not a science- it's a thing.
The closest I can go to describing it is this. You're walking down a road. It's a bright sunny day the birds are singing and you come to a fork in the road. So you decide to take both paths at once because you can't decide. So you are deciding and not deciding -both at the same time- so you take both paths at the same time.
And there are idiots who go with this!!!!!
See? I am not lazy or unproductive. I am doing serious work here.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Several months ago we found our back door key, which is the old substantial mortise type has broken whilst sitting in the back door. I replaced it with a new key and the very next week the same thing happened.
Our conclusion having thought about it is that we may have a mischievous spook in our house. Yeah right! I don't believe it for a minute- of course. But due to lack of evidence to the contrary- well- I do entertain the slightest feeling that just maybe I may be wrong.
I told my very Earthed girlfriend about it and she puts it down to one of us ( me or my daughter) being off in artists land and not even registering moving the box or breaking the keys. We here however, don't think this is the case. So we have a deadlock. Mysterywise it's a beauty.
Then as I was driving home tonight from my girlfriends place I began to think about her belief that we don't have a ghost and my belief that ghosts don't exist. I believe in a, or more specifically the, Creator and my girlfriend is Christian. How is it then that we are quite able to believe in these supernatural ideas and all the associated over the top things which go along with that yet we can't go with the mischievous ghost in the home thing?
The answer is:
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm! And things that make you go Hmmmmmmmmm! More specifically it's to do with selective belief structures. We believe what we wish and that's all there is to it. No logic- no consistency- just go with what we go with.
This got me to thinking- again-of -course. What is it with these peole who hide away behind their steel panels. They seem to no longer be human. They seem to adopt a machine- like personality. They no longer see those around them as people inside cars but as some kind of other mechanical being made of metal plastic and rubber. They don't seem to be able to recognize that within these mechanical exteriors is something alive and precious. Also something that is very vulnerable to their careless actions.
The sooner we run out of oil the better I reckon. We need to get back to the horse days as soon as possible. If you are going along on your horse and someone comes up behind you and places his horse's nose up your horse's bum well he just looks totally foolish. And because he is not able to hide from the outside world whilst on his mode of transport he can feel and hear the full impact of his ridiculous action.
Come on global warming- come on peak oil -come on- come on. It's the only way humanity will get a perspective of what it is to be human back.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
There's heaps of research in future predicting though. These poor blokes spend their time reading and reading in order to predict what is going to likely happen in all areas that effect man. Then they have to see the trends before anyone else does in order to become famous by predicting the future.
Of course there are those others who harness the dark side to gather information about what is going to happen in the future. They're the ones who talk to the dead. Yep and they actually think they do this thing-well they know they don't really but it makes them very interesting people rather than that boring old hag that lives down the road watching TV and talking to herself all day, they can be an oracle who everyone consults.
But people- there is no need to search for these types of individuals any longer. I have the answer to everything right here on overthinking. I give this advanced knowledge away for free.
Here is my predictions for your future. You will build a life. All kinds of stuff will go on around you to which you will respond as you see appropriate at the time. You will do this usually in a state of urgency and anxiety. And if you don't well you probably haven't really understood the nature of what's going on in the first place or you are half asleep. And when you have solved that stuff you will move on to more stuff which seems to be important and requiring your immediate attention and this is on top of the million other things that require your immediate attention. You will respond each day trying to reduce the long list of things that require your immediate attention for about the next 50 years unless you die in the meantime and simultaneously you will try to cope with the distraction from the constant interruptions that are going on relentlessly in the background. You will worry a lot. Then you will worry some more. Occasionally you will get totally off your face on some kind of substance in order that you are relieved from the constant concern of a million things going on all at once in you daily life. You will try to cut off using other methods like totally immersing yourself in TV or some other passive entertainment. But you will always know you have to do stuff no matter how long you sit there because it's not going to get things done.
Then at about age 50- if you make it- you will say to yourself- What was the point of all that? And you will get a sense of futility in your life. Of wasted efforts. You will look at all your achievements and all the happy little humans you have added to the population. And you may hide out in that aspect of your life all by itself for the rest of your life. You will say- yep, it was about the children. All that work had a wonderful fruit. The children. But when the kids were young and you were trying to work to keep food in their growing and ever hungry tummies it was a nightmare. But now they are gone and you are all alone. You are watching TV. You are watching a lot of TV. You want to keep yourself busy. But you really don't have anything to do. You could do volunteer work to whittle away the hours or something to relieve your long habit of being busy
Anyway I could go on painting your gloomy future for you but I think it would be best to leave all this prediction to the experts. They will make you much happier with their predictions of global catastrophe and pandemics and the collapse of civilization and stuff.
For me, well I have moved on to the final stages of my future. I wash the dishes. I crochet. I dream up paintings which are never done because I like dreaming them up but doing them requires way too much work.
But I am really happy. I am not worried about the future. It is here and I like it. The only thing that we are really alive for is the feeling of being alive. And how do we feel alive-----???????
That's what your future will be about---love.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I see that most of the world has gone equally crazy as me. And they have their best friends too. Recently I got so mad as to think that everything is about numbers. Just like my best friend does. I was reading New Scientist magazine and it mentioned a certain individual's fixation with the number 137 and then today I stumbled upon a group set up to study the number 47.
Of course who can forget our old favourite 11? When you look at the time as I did today and every day for about a year as my daughter and I and my sister did some years ago and you see it is 11:11 all the time well is it any wonder we think it's all about numbers. You may want to google these numbers. Then again maybe you better not. You probably have enough to think about.
I have discovered that I am not actually writing. Firstly I'm typing. Writing no longer exists because it takes too much effort to find a pen and paper and when we do write it is block letters now because we are trying to be as neat and legible as our computers. We don't have a taste for flowery appearance any longer- bland sterile and uncluttered is the modern of today. And although literature is flowery at times most of what we write is done with a bland yet clear communication in matter-of-fact style. We haven't the time to piss fart around trying to understand what the hell is goin' on. We are in a hurry---- now get on with the story! And this is exactly what I don't do. I don't get on with it. Both in writing and in life. I like to sit on my backside and slowly sniff the flowers in life. Looking up at the Sun is about the most active I like to be in a day.
So what do I do? I stream consciousness. Doesn't that sound simply amazing. I thought I was just lazy and that there was no point in most anything we humans do in our lives. I looked around at the flurry of activity people involve themselves in and I thought it is all so pointless really. I thought we were simply killing time making out that what we do is of some importance somewhere along the line- but it really isn't. It feels important. Our lives do feel very important- to us- but really when you reduce it like stock, it boils down to nothing in the end. It tastes good at a certain point but as you continue to boil it, well, nothing remains. This may be how life goes. So what I do is add more and more flavouring to the stock as I go. And I do that by activities such as this.
These are my stream of consciousness and this is just another way of describing overthinking. No wonder most people prefer not to think too much but rather just do. They would hate to discover that if they look at their actions from a distance they look like busy little ants do to us and that is very busy yet their busyness means nothing to us. We know it means a lot to their survival of course and that is important. But that is all we really do. Work for our survival. There are those among us who look for deeper meaning though. I know we are silly. But we do it. And if you get busy being busy then you really can't have the time to really analyze the overall picture of our existence. God, I sound, look and feel lazy.Am I lazy? Yes to a busy person I would look lazy but I look at those people as ants.
Within that analogy: when the ant looks back at me looking at it well, it just doesn't understand does it because it's caught in its little world being busy.
I don't write this to sound superior but it will sound that way. Philosophical thought often does. Keep in mind while you are busy it's just a thought; it's just my "stream of consciousness". And in the end --relax. We are important and what we do is important because we make it so through our "stream of consciousness". We swim in it every day in our own way filled with a feeling of importance.
Monday, May 11, 2009
So making something out of nothing is the foundation of human thinking. As I type these words I am in fact making something out of nothing. Just a moment ago there were no words from me and now there are words from me. See? But they mean absolutely nothing yet they mean something because they are talking about nothing. See how easy this all is?
What I am doing here is showing you how I think. This is the mess I have referred to in earlier posts and is the core of the issue on display here at Overthinking. In me being so fortunate as to having been born an artist I have also been afflicted with this kind of thinking. It makes it so difficult for me to go ahead and actually do anything tangible most of the time and decision making is an absolute nightmare for me.
People have often commented on how changeable I am. One moment this another moment that; but its part of the way I am set up. I look at everything from all angles all at once and depending on where the light is at the time is how I see things. The slightest move of the thing under scrutiny or a change in the appearance caused by interruptions from another person and I see it differently. And this can be totally opposite to the way I saw it a moment ago. Something can look beautiful to me one moment and totally ugly the next. Then it can be any of the infinite shades in between at any other time.
The end result is that to the outside world I am fairly much a non-productive person. I do surprise people sometimes though. Occasionally I spin out some kind of tangible thing like a painting, or even this writing. Of course monetarily it has no value whatsoever. All my efforts go for free. So I guess one can see that I more or less inflict the world with some kind of nothing which is sort of something but it is really nothing because nobody pays for it so it is nothing. Does that make sense?
Sunday, May 10, 2009
I love being a bloke. Women are caught talking about how- do- I -know- if- he- loves- me stuff. It never has an answer but a man can always rely on his mates to tell him what adhesive to use in any situation.
These angels in human form are the ones who you must tippy- toe around and keep the conversation in their earshot on the level of ever so light and fluffy; Childlike; Nonthreatening; responsible;courteous and be very very aware that God is watching. Well stuff that! Stay the hell away from me coz I'm always gonna let it out.
All I want to do is opine. Not threaten anyone- not for any particular purpose- just because it's what I like to do. So many people bottle it all up. Or worse, they have to get pissed off their nut before they can let out any of the inner beast and by that time it is far more ugly than it has to be. The way I do it is the way of the masters, like Gerry Seinfeld. Of course he is a real cynic. I am but a lowly amateur.
With all this in mind and in keeping with the view that I am an animal who is critical of many traditions I must openly admit my absolute love of Mothers Day. I am so sorry to disappoint those who think I am a total cynic- well I'm not- stuff you! I love mothers. They need to be celebrated. Thank God there are mothers or else the world would be full of smart arse cynics. They soften this place and make it beautiful. They bring a somewhat cynical person like myself to my knees in awe of their perfect care.
Good on you Mum. I miss you. You weren't a goody two shoes- you let out the beast sometimes and you gave me the same trait. But you cared- probably too much. RIP.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Yes people!. It's just word salad. But at least I am honest enough to say it. There are so many writers and aspiring writers who expect us to swallow their stuff. Not only that; they think they have the truth and are imparting it on others as is their God given duty, right and mission. They are all over the internet. Just as I do; they put up their dribble in massive dollops. They put up the amazing stories that are totally unsupportable as to their efficacy, pretty their site up with eye candy like some kind of technological Bowerbird. Then they wait for us to stumble upon their self important madness.
Then again, maybe all that I have written here is me----------- and on and on and on. There is no resolution. Wonder if everyone is the same as me. So changeable so indecisive so messed. Yep! I reckon so.
This part of my personality causes me to cast my eye across every article that has the slightest glimmer of mystery to it. No matter where I am and what I am doing- as soon as the curiosity switch is triggered- I'm in. So the internet is my biggest trap. And I am bogged down in it every day of my life. It has me hypnotized. There is no chance that I can escape its allure. When it comes to a life in the real world- well- my number is up. At least I'm not addicted to the vast amount of free porn that comes with the territory. ( Well, I can say this- whether I am believed is doubtful- everyone is disinterested in porn that's why it is the most popular subject on the net.) But this is off where I want to go with this.
People like me, I repeat those of curious nature, and I think there are plenty of us, can't resist swallowing the huge amount of guff put out by other people like us. We are curious about what the curious amongst us are curious about. I think it is human nature to be like this. The human is a totally curious creature. Beyond all other things - we are curious. And this is why we are in so much trouble. We are lost because of our curious nature. Because alongside the benefits of being curious like learning new and useful things, we also pick up all the mind-filling viruses along the way. And this brings me to the whole point of this long winded piece--------- are you curious?
The point of this whole article is:
I'm so cruel!
Friday, May 8, 2009
It's pretty much how my life feels at the moment.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Why is this blog about the little things? Why are there no reflections on the big things in my life? Why am I not trying to rock people's worlds with my brilliance? Well this last one is easy to answer; I'm not that smart. But yeah, back to the theme. The underlying thing I have here at Overthinking is a slow exposure to something very disturbing.
We live in a house of cards.
Doesn't this terrify you? It does me.
I will clarify this. I worked on a relationship with another person for 24 years. I was part of a family and I did all the family building things. I worked on being a loving partner in order to grow a strong emotional bond. I worked at building up a business in order to have security. I worked at being a parent to build a sense of selflessness within myself that only comes with family. If I were to picture this scenario it would be a vast structure that towered into the blue sky. Lofty in its intent and because it had been built over a quarter of a century it would appear very developed and strong. This is providing the work put in was good work of course. And I believed it was. What I failed to realise is that all this is just a deck of cards. We cling to things like partnership but the things we cling to are just like a house of cards. When your partner leaves, the whole structure of what was collapses. It has no strength at all. And it is so easy to destroy a partnership. One just has to walk away and in my case wipe out 24 years in one breath. Gone. Destroyed.
Now doesn't that take the smile off of your face? Don't you just feel like shit now? I am a real party pooper aren't I? Just when you were having a really good time reading all my trivial little pieces about all and sundry simple and shallow shit about night clubs and spiders and mating habits and all that crap---, I go and spoil it all by saying something serious. See what I mean about everything being a house of cards. I have just ruined your entire happy quota for the day. What an absolute arse I am.
Have a nice day! See there was a twist at the end- not a good one- but a twist. Have a secure day I should have said.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Look, you're going to sleep with me in some possible world. Since all worlds are equally real, it doesn't really matter which one it is. So it shouldn't worry you that it's this one that we do it in.
Aristotle: Because you possess beauty, all men by nature desire to know you intimately. Me especially.
There's a part of me that really wants to get to know you.
Don't listen to what they say--you know we're part of something special. ( This one really works.This is the one that got my attractive ex-wife into bed with a smelly ugly weirdo----- and hey that's not me; it's another bloke!!!---I don't smell----I think)
So what are we witnessing in the big Saturday night now in the noughties?
Well it hasn't changed much. We called them disco's and they call them clubs now. As you can see the '70s won in the colourful name stakes. The lights are more hi tech now of course and the sub woofed bass kicks the shit outta the old 70s sound rig in terms of pure groin grunt. The senses are definitely attacked much more these days. And of course you have all the later day drugs which may have been around in the 70s but we little people didn't know about them. We had to make do with heaps of booze then mainly.
So where is this leading. It goes straight to last Saturday night in the Knox Ozone entertainment precinct. The place where the burb stalwarts excercise their right to party and make the all important Saturday night---- Huuuuuuge!
My girlfriend and I had just dosed up on action via the cinema's offering of Wolverine. We were really hyped I tell ya. Good clawing fun that Hugh Jackman- and the muscles-- wow! We strolled out into the night air in the precinct walkway to be greeted by the nightlife of suburban Melbourne. You can pick a lot up from the distance sometimes and not so much if you were to be actually part of something. This is the case with crowds seen at a distance. I observed firstly the Irish Bar next to the cinema. It roared out standard rock music to the outside crowd. It was dimly lit yet you could make out the crowd ok. There was a cloud of smoke enveloping the whole mass of dark figures. they all clutched their glasses about mid point on their bodies and because of this they all looked sort of the same cardboard cutout types of figures. They all looked stuck, moving slighly but stuck because of the sardine type nature of their environment. The whole thing was very masculine in feel. In fact I saw only about a handful of women in an otherwise male crowd. Nothing has changed. That's exactly the way it used to be in the 70's at pubs.
We continued heading back to our car along the walk. The big club thing was our next encounter. As we moved away from the pub area and towards the club there was an interesting mix of standard pub rock and techno doof filling the air about mid point. It was not a pleasant combination and I could see that both venues had marked out their territory equally using sound. The doof however had the advantage. It was massive! Saturday night was obviously massive at this establishment and I 'm sure it would have gone off pretty well if in fact anyone attended. I peeked past the bouncers standing outside into the venue. Empty! Empty! I couldn't believe it. Oh hang on. It was only 11 pm. The drugs hadn't kicked in yet. So the crowd would arrive later when the effect was in them. it's gotta be right on Saturday night. We walked past this ongoing nuclear explosion with its zombies at the door our chests filled with the thump of the doof. It was truly exciting. I can see why people go to these places. It is full of promise but little in actual worthwhile outcome. Most males, I assume, would go home empty handed only to fill their hand with the object of their loneliness alone in their beds later on that night. But the booze and drugs get you over that at the time. And because of these effects and influences- Saturday night was big. And then its on to next Saturday night and the same bloody thing. It's the same as it ever was- same as it ever was ;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;same as it ever was;----------------------------------
Home to a cuppa tea and chocolate for me and Deb. I like quiet Saturday nights.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
In a state of stupor , I raised my eyes in order to avoid colliding with the vegie stands only to notice a pair of flanny pj's. Not so different you say?--- well--- these ones were walking. This lady had decided to not bother getting dressed and to just go shopping in her pj's. Interesting.
So I continued my routine through the store- slightly awry at the pj encounter. Just a relaxed person I thought.Rounding the back section in the store I noticed a couple of tradesmen types - you know- bright orange fluoro safety vests and work boots types. They appeared to be in some kind of trance. I thought --- maybe Swine Flu----- No---- their attention seemed to be off in the distance in front of them. I followed their gaze. Oh my!!!! --------- There was this model looking vision of beauty strolling along the dairy section as nonchalant as you like. She was a true beauty. But my eyes quickly fell to the jaw dropper in all this. She looked naked from the waist down.
Her leggings thingys were so form hugging and skin tight that she may as well have left them off. Nothing was left to the imagination. The perfect get up for getting men up and for grocery shopping she thought.
What is that about? I have had nightmares as everyone does, where I have left my pants off in a totally mundane public place and have had to run around hiding my nudity. But then again- if I looked as fine as this woman did, nudity would not be something I would be embarrassed about. But what goes through the mind of people? Why the need for such exhibitionism in such an ordinary place at such an ordinary time of the day? Maybe she was on her way somewhere where half nudity is the norm. Maybe she simply thinks that it is normal to show your wares to all and sundry at the supermarket just to help relieve the boredom of both herself and others.
I didn't join the snake of men following like mesmerized zombies in her wake but took the nearest aisle in order to feel rebellious. And I did feel very much in control. A man of substance not effected by such wiles of that foul temptress.
Then I saw the lady in her pj's again and I was back to Earth. The strangeness of these two images somehow managed to counteract each other. You know- the turn on followed by the turn off. Such is divine providence. Such is the strangeness of our ordinary daily lives.
Monday, May 4, 2009
The ungrateful little ratbags tell the almighty parent to shut up. How dare they!. So that's why I rave on here. I won't shut up. I pretend that the rest of my world is still interested in what I say. And I rattle on about shit. Same as I did all those years ago to that poor little person whom I inflicted my ideas upon. Then again. Somebody did that to me too. It goes on and on. We never shut up though. Not really. I think that's why we have kids- so that there is a powerless individual who we can rave onto and feel very knowledgeable about stuff we really know nothing about. The thing we really know nothing about is ------life! We pretend we do from time to time though. We have to bluff our way through when a small person is relying upon us.
I love special FX. I have studied multimedia at Swinburne. Yes I seriously love special FX so much as to totally waste my time doing all that worthless study. But I have to say I do miss substance being present in these movies. I can't say that I have seen an action movie in a long while where the actual story rated alongside the brilliance of the special FX. Modern movies are all show and no go.
Talking about all show and no go and superheroes; this is fairly much what I am about. Some friends are in awe at my intellectual power as demonstrated in these insightful blogs. I sound so powerful when I write don't I? The typed word HOLDS MUCH POWER. See? But really I am just a cowering little man in a very big and scary world. A mate said to me yesterday that the reason I get no replies to my silly articles here at Overthinking is because they come across as not debatable and utterances of perfect truth.
This is how they all read:
Imagine this said in a really loud and powerful godlike voice:" I am giving you the insight here idiot! I'm using my most high and mighty vocabulary. If you don't agree with me well fuck you! Fuck the World! And Fuck you!"
I like this style I have developed. It works for me. It's exactly the way I want to do business here and most every place else. Oh yeah!. That friend of mine--- he's an idiot. I like being Mr Right------in my mind at least. I don't care what the rest of you idiots think. So don't bother me with your useless comments!!!!
I'm a bit lonely now. Wonder why? Being a superhero makes for a very alienated life I guess.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
I am an elitist. I used to love having a PC in the late 80s early 90s. People marveled at how clever I was in being able to even turn the bloody thing on. As it whirred into life and all this boot up stuff scrolled past they were wide eyed with amazement. And then When I actually typed in DIR at the flashing cursor and all this other type scrolled speedily down the screen I could almost see them swoon with admiration at my ability to control the beast. Ahhh! They were the days!
Now any girly can get on these things. They made it so easy. My mystique has dried up completely. I don't know where I am going to go to impress people now. I thought crochet might have been the go. But it just doesn't seem to do the same thing for most observers. Maybe I will become that brain surgeon I always dreamed of being. Then I could definitely impress. Pity the poor bugger whose head I'm poking around in though. A little known fact is I never knew what I was doing with computers way back in the past. It was all bluff.
Oh shit! I forgot something; the success. I didn't acquire the capability for excess.
Now we see what this blog is all about. I am venting my disappointment at never having the excessive existence which is thrust in our face every day of our underachieving days.
Well first I was in my prime then and I am not now. I'm still pretty cool mind you, but I was way cooler then. I had hair- lots of it;and it was long, really long. It was free. I didn't have the fashion police around in those days telling me what I should look like and what I should wear. And fashion was way over the top for men. We were able to push the limits. Now all that type of dress is just labeled gay. We didn't even wear any advertisements then. It was looked down upon. If you wore something with advertising on it- well that was your job- you expected to be paid for that not to pay for the privilege.
We weren't anxious in those days. We were optimistic and really believed that the world would be the same as it ever was only better into the future. We thought marriage was for life and that it was the best way to be. We expected to own a house with a vegie patch and all the trimmings. It would all be rosey in the garden and in the home.
Everything was new and hadn't been done before. The pill was new, the electric guitar was new, new new new. We were new. The music was new- it sounded different to all that had gone before it. The outlook was new. We didn't want conservativism. We wanted to push boundaries and not be the same. We wanted to be individuals. We bought new denims and hacked the shit out of them so that they didn't look new. How new is that?
I could go on and on about the 70s. But, dear reader- this unfortunately is the end of your attention span. You are becoming bored.
Oh yeah. We could stay tuned in for the long haul in the 70's. We didn't channel surf life back then.
Friday, May 1, 2009
A friend said to me " You are much nicer in real life than you are on your blog."
That got me to thinking- of course.
How would I describe me in my online personality.
Angry-pissed off-lost-annoyed-irritated-no patience-arrogant-judgmental-preachy-cynical-caustic-acerbic-pessimistic-defeatist-----All or part of all of these things could be gleaned from my writing. This is the online me. It is my alter ego. It is my beast. And I dress all the pulp I emit here in a veneer of humour; cheap, self indulgent stuff indeed.
But my dear readers it is not me. I don't know the real me; never have;never will. But I don't want it to be this person here on this blog. He is really screwed.
However letting out the beast in here makes me a better person out there in the real world. I used to drink buckets of booze to do this but now I do this. At least the beast here doesn't dance with chainsaws when pissed off his face as the beast of the past used to do.
So how did I get this deep insight? I was beautifully vomited upon. My friend brought over her baby. Whilst I held the bubs she, (the baby, not my friend) was very uncomfortable and was thrashing around and wailing profusely. Finally she let loose a big spew on my sleeve and then quietened down to a placid and happy state. This is what happens to me after I vomit all this stuff on the blog. Out goes the discomfort and in comes the peace.
I think the biggest pandemic now is mental illness. If it wasn't before - it is now.Anxiety reigns supreme.