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07th July 2000 Friday, thank the lord, 18:11
 

People Die all the time and it means nothing. Four people were murdered due to Euro 2000. What was the point of that? Household objects probably kill more people than plane crashes. Carrots, I read somewhere, are notorious. Tony Blair’s son got drunk and puked up in the gutter because of his GCSE’s. One of my brother’s friends had to be rushed to hospital because he was left unconscious in the gutter pissed out of his mind. His stomach was pumped and he was one drink away from going into an alcohol-induced coma. He didn’t have any particular reason for it. One of Paula’s friends died of cancer at 18. Just after she left school. Graham remembers a trip to Germany where a mother was chastising a child in a souvenir shop, when the shop assistant said politely, in Germany we don’t treat our children so harshly. The husband turned to her and said, ‘In England we don’t send 2 million Jews off to be slaughtered’, before leaving. In Edinburgh there isn’t a night that goes by that old lang sine is sang by somebody drunk. 

Why don’t we remember that we’re incredibly luckily to be born in the western world? I am not defined by what I consume. I will not spend any more money on consumables. (Apart from the obvious one - Food ) Only on tools. Like Douglas Coupland says, we are missing something. We’ve got a life of incredible luxury, yet what do we do with it, waste it watching Hollywood action films, and soap operas. If we just gave us this urge to consume, wouldn’t life suddenly get a lot more spiritual. It’s like that silly Asimov or somebody story, we’ve got to consume, the more we consume, the more we get to consume, except instead of getting the robots to consume for us, we’ve internalised it into some kind of life defining process. 

I read in a column in SFX a month or so back, about a byzantium guy, who wrote a letter to a newspaper owner, (Or somesuch.)  complaining about packs of youths terrorising the auditoriums, when he wanted to go and enjoy an event with his family. They apparently had weapon and started vicious brawls with aposeing groups. So if hooligan thought they were doing something interesting, new, worthy, with a point, or not 1500 years old, they’re not. 

Where are the choices with modern life? I went with my strengths at school, so I could get more money, a better job, get good results, get into Uni. But now, that’s not what I want to do. I want to go to Harry Potters wizard school. Something outside the system, something that you can step back and take a good look at everything. A portal to choices. 

Computers. Just things that masturbate with information. 

Had that massive chat with Fliss yesterday. No, I didn’t write about it. Had a conversation involving lots of new words. Clumpersmuckle, Squissy, Pansywimple. I smock you sir! Obviously, it’s a knights challenge to a duel, using, a sock, instead of a gauntlet. Obviously. 

Random, hah! My life isn’t random or chaotic. I maintain a strick policy of non communication with people on journeys. I have my thoughts, and only my thoughts. I let any old thing change me, but I don’t change very much. I expect nothing. I hope for many things. I get impatient with time and the future. Why doesn’t it come along quicker? It’s just waiting around for me to die before any interesting possibilities come up. Bastard. Nothing random has ever happened to me. I wasn’t involved in any big random disasters. I go where I wish. If I make a mistake, it’s me, not the conductor. Maybe this work experience placement was a bit random. But so what, I applied for the random process, and dan, I so want one of the other jobs. All my real work has been random so far. 

Getting Neil Gaiman, or Geoff Ryman to write a mud would actually be a great idea. Or possibly both of them together. 

I was going to ponder my freak status, in a long self-winded sprawl of angst. And I may still. But not right now. I’ll let you off. 

Author information goes here. < That's Me! Or Meg if you want my full name. 
Copyright © 1999 by [weirdscience]. Most rights reserved.
Revised: 27 May 2000 21:14:14 +0100 .