The Post Where I Finally Curtail Rumours That My Mother-In-Law Is A Romanian Prince Who Likes To Stick Spikes Up Bottoms.

Every now and then I get a little obsessed with stuff. This will come as no great surprise to anyone who’s read my insane mutterings about zombie chickens ( see.. pretty much the rest of the blog ).
Currently I’m a bit gripped by the concept of Cartesian doubt ( I’ll probably come back to that at some point ), but previous to that I was getting all thoughtful about the concept of karma.

I think a part of me *needs* to have karma at play in my universe, everything seems so dreadfully unfair otherwise, and that ticks me off a bit.
Not the traditional concept of karma – the paying for your sins in the next incarnation – but the all-new modernised instant karma that smacks you upside the head right now if you screw up. If I fiddle my taxes ( And I don’t. Please don’t report me ) I don’t want to come back as a colon-slurping tapeworm next time round. I want shit to rain down on me ( not literally – we appear to be back at the tapeworm scenario again ), and I want it to rain down on me NOW. I want to pay for my sins, and being a member of the disposable generation I’m not prepared to wait. Hit me!

And I have screwed up in the past. Some stuff I think I’ve paid for, some stuff I’m not sure I ever can, and in that respect I think I’m not so different from anyone else on this dirtball. Being agnostic I don’t have a heaven or hell in my future, so I have to rely on my own code of ethics to stop karma biting me on the ass. Fear of what comes next doesn’t motivate me, for me death is just a flicking of a switch from one state of being to another of nothingness. One minute I’m alive, minding my own business, sneaking down to the mailbox to see if the crap I ordered from eBay has arrived, the next I’m slowly cooling fertiliser. Death is a non-issue to me, I’m not scared of it. What totally terrifies me is pain and fear itself. I’m absolutely OK with being decapitated in a freak cheese-slicing tragedy, but being slowly and agonizingly grated myself…well, I’m going to have to go change my underpants just thinking about that.

For a lot of folk fear is stronger than morality. Horrifically, fear is currently fuelling the US Presidential circus. In an ideal world people would vote for whoever gave them the greatest hope instead of whoever tapped into their deepest terrors. I like to think that people are basically good. I see no difference between the darker skinned Muslim lady who lives downstairs, and my entirely paler Christian Mother-In-Law. Both have a warmth that extends to random strangers. Both like to feed my children snacks. Sure, the Muslim lady *could* be building a bomb in her dining room, but in all fairness so could my Mother-In-Law. Comparing my Muslim neighbour to a suicide bomber is like comparing my Mother-In-Law to Vlad The Impaler. It could be the truth but I’m thinking probably..not.

There is a quote from Benjamin Franklin that goes, “Even peace may be purchased at too high a price.” If peace comes from eradicating everything that we fear – and we fear everything and everyone who does not reflect ourselves – it is an acceptable price for us as a species? Of course not. And as far as Master Races go the ants have beaten us hands down anyway, so lets hope we never really piss those guys off.
Chances are even genocide will not halt the fear spiral, there will always be something that keeps us awake at night. I speculate that in a generation or two it will probably be intestinal worms.

 

 

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A Post About Friends , Which In Retrospect Probably Contains The Word “Asshole” A Bit Too Much For The Subject Matter.

I don’t blog much these days, a fact that absolutely none of you will have noticed. It’s not that you don’t care. Or, well, you might not. You probably subscribed 3 years ago and then promptly forgot about my irregularly spurty waffle ( which sounds like something you should never ever Google. Just don’t. ) It’s all cool though, it happens. No judgement here.

But for those still subscribed I feel the need to thank you for your loyalty. And your inability to clear up your inactive blogger subscription. I also find it vital to take this opportunity to tell you that YOU are important to me. We’re best buds. Chums. I feel close enough to you to try to tap you for a fiver. Or ask you to buy me doughnuts and tampons whilst you’re down the shops anyway. It’s a beautiful friendship. Which is why it’s such a wonderful example of synchronicity that after randomly deciding to do my first post in yonks I scroll back through this morning’s emails and find today’s daily prompt is the word “Friends“.

Well bugger me sideways, what are the chances?

It’s been a busy [ insert actual time absent here, I’m too lazy to look it up. A year and a half maybe? ]. Work was frantic, sporadic, and largely semi-satisfying. I took time to eliminate the toxic aspects of my life and gained a certain level of peace. I started posting on Instagram. I challenged myself. I put myself on a diet and lost a crapload of weight. I took myself back off a diet because despite what I’d been absolutely certain of the last 4 decades, being skinny didn’t make me happier. Or younger. Or drop dead gorgeous. I feel particularly pissed about the last one, btw.

I’m still a bit mental. Not much but it’s there. My favourite quote of all time is “Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes.” And once I started an asshole eradication program I found my life went a lot more smoothly. I highly recommend it.

So now all I have is my family and my friends and it’s good. No, it’s really, *really* good. I thought for the longest time that to be happy I needed more. More money, more stuff, more achievements, a bigger better more me Me. More doughnuts, definitely. But turns out that what I really needed was less. Less pressure. Less assholes. And the friends? They’re just right. I feel I can finally tick them off my to-do list.

So, anyway, if you’re off down the shops………

Duck Tales

Today I bonded with a duck.

I had planned to write about today’s daily prompt like a good little blogger… but a duck, man… a freakin’ duck! Duck trumps blog prompt, sorry.

I was on my way to pick up my two youngest from school, the journey of which consists of a walk around the school moat to the front gate. Now, I know without asking that a few people are going to have the phrase “Moat ?!? Your kids go to Hogwarts?” go through their heads, but alas…no. I can think of many many things I would not encourage in my children ( especially Brandon ) and magic is one of them. Well, maybe Lily would be ok… but Brandon? He’s more of a Voldemort Lite. So I’m shuffling along, dragging my ass in the way that a mother who knows her free minutes of day are due to be over any moment does, when I look towards the little moat at the sound of a tiny splash.

And there she is, speed-waddling in my direction. She’s not looking angry or scared, but there’s a definite hint of determination, so I stop walking so I don’t startle her as I’m expecting my new best bud to pick up some tasty morsel off the grass and be on her way. Didn’t happen. Instead she strolled up to me like we’d known each other forever and I’d raised her from an egg and tapped me lightly on the foot. It wasn’t a snippy “Nice feet, I’m gonna eat those” assault, it was more of a fist-bump “S’up?” moment. Given the choice I’d have stood there all day and spent time with my new avian chum, but assorted children were spewing forth from the school gates and experience has shown me that kids aren’t always at their nicest around wild animals, so I just said a polite “Hello!” and walked away.She returned to her important moat-based activities out of harms reach and I caught up with my dumbfounded Hubby who’s only words were “What, are you the Duck Whisperer now??”

I love nature, it provides balance in my life. As a born introvert, people are one long drain on my energy. It’s not like I dislike them, I just don’t like being around them. For instance, I have some great friends that I truly care about, which is only made better by the fact they live over the other side of the world. I can talk to them allllllllll day and not have to make eye contact or share a sofa with them once. Epic Introvert Win.

But nature, it’s like Anti-People. Everything that social interaction drains from me nature rejuvenates. My mind clears and I can take big breaths and level out. It’s like some sort of meditation, but with extra smiling and conversations with wildlife. When I say I was excited at the duck encounter I wasn’t just kidding, it felt like nature strolled up to me, put it’s arm around my shoulder, and said “Yeah, people suck don’t they? They just don’t understand us huh?” When I think of all the places I’d love to see in the world humans just don’t feature. They are places of epic beauty and reflection, natural shrines of silence and comfortable solitude ( except the tiny little voice in the back of my head that says “If you ever win the lottery were heading to VEGAS baby, ooooh yeah” ). When I think of emigrating I think of rural areas in Canada, where the scenery is stunning, the townsfolk are limited but renowned for their politeness, and the chances of finding a moose on your wooden veranda one morning are pretty reasonable. ( A moose. A MOOSE. You’ve seen how excited I got about the duck, can you imagine how I’d feel about a MOOSE? I’d wee my pants at the magnificence of it all, even if it started eating my expensive veranda furniture that I bought from my extensive Vegas winnings ).

So yet again I appear to have answered the Daily Prompt entirely by accident ( Lie : I’m actually an incredibly intelligent writer who manufactures it to seem like pure luck *ahem* ), because when the prompt asks me “a place you’d love to visit? What about it speaks to you?” my answer would be “Nature speaks to me by not speaking to me. Where it is in abundance, that’s where I want to be.” It doesn’t indulge in pleasantries that neither of us have any interest in, it just comes right up and taps me on the foot, and then waddles off ,it’s connection made.

That’s just duckin’ awesome.