Posts Tagged ‘ Randomness ’

I am Batman.

A Wonderful thing happened tonight.

I was standing at my window, observing the night sky as the darkness set in. My cat Wilbur was laying low in the grass, Lucy sat in front of him, panting in that retarded yet adorable way only a dog seems capable of pulling off. I could barely make them out, faint as they were in the dim white light of my laptops monitor behind me.. facing the window with me, watching the pair.

Lucy had made a fatal error in judgement, her tongue, dangling as it was from her mouth… Would soon trigger the instincts of Wilbur to attack and pounce… I probably could have called her in the time it took Kitty to attack, but why should I? Lucy needs to learn a lesson and I need some mild amusement at 11pm on a Saturday night, so just as I feared…Wilbur leaps onto Lucy’s face, leading with her barbed little paws, and it was at this moment that something amazing happened, maybe it was the yelp Lucy let out… But just at that moment, as my own instincts were triggered by the high pitched bark… An enormous shaft of light shot into the sky from a great distance, I’m not kidding… It shimmered along the low dense cloud cover as it searched the sky with great fervour, I was dumbfounded, gobsmacked even, my eyes followed the heavenly light. Left, right, left… Right! Why? Why was it doing this? Surely it was making a call… A plea for help, in one brief instant in time, I let myself be convinced that the light being shot up into the sky was in-fact for me, because they needed my help.. and who am I?

I am Batman, that’s who this silly light in the sky has convinced me I am, The Dark Knight, morally ambiguous anti-hero driven by childhood trauma, I may not have any actual superpowers, but I have some really fucking cool gadgets that you will most likely find in a toy store near you, along with a clearly phallic bat mobile that fucks any scumbag unlucky enough to be illuminated in its blinding headlights. I am an alpha male, I eat sleep and shit manliness, there is always a new attractive woman on the horizon who has everything in her life except for that one key ingredient… Me, but I will not stay with this woman, because she only signed on for one movie and I wouldn’t be very anti-hero with a wife and 2.4 children now would I?, so I must live as a perpetual bachelor with the occasional passionate but brief affair. I also pretend not to care about social issues by living the life of a playboy millionaire, but really.. deep down in my dark heart. I do, I fucking care… Like, a whole fucking bunch. So I must answer this light in the sky, I must wear fifty pounds of leather and endure the agony of relentlessly itchy balls an outfit like that would surely cause, I must wear eye shadow, because without it my helmet would look crap, you’d clearly see the skin around my eyes and it would clash with my expensive dark body armour and this would not do. But most importantly of all, I must wash the scum from the streets of Gotham with my reign of Vigilante Justice, I must help.. for i am needed.

All of this flashed before my minds eye as I stared into the distant probing light.

But as soon as I had convinced myself, I knew in that same instant that it was a sham. I’m just some schmuck dreaming his life away, and the light.. Wondrous as it was… Beamed from some fancy nightclub with shite music and fancy lighting in a town called Navan, not twenty miles from where I now sit. Awwwww, fuckin reality. Why must you insist on gatecrashing my dreams?

But dejection soon turned to amusement, Lucy and Wilbur lay together on the grass, the cat licking the dogs face, who in turn let out a prolonged groan of satisfaction into the night sky, all is well in my sleepy home, and I really need to see that new Batman movie.

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One Hundred and Thirty Thousand Reasons to be afraid.

Trim, County Meath, Ireland.

3.30pm, Thursday, 3rd July, 2008

I stepped out of the bank onto the wet pavement as crowds of people milled past, hurrying to wherever they needed to be to avoid getting overly wet, it’s raining, obviously. My father stood beside me as we looked up and down the narrow street for traffic, suddenly it was too late… I spotted him at the last instant, this hooded man who stood out from the crowd with singular intent, to get to me… Raising an arm that clutched a shotgun with its barrel sawn off to deliver maximum carnage at minimum range, I looked into his eyes in that brief moment before the smoky flash… He didn’t seem to care about my life, no compassion in those cold dead and dark eyes, his face contorted into a mask of self induced rage he obviously had to work himself into to even get this far, it’s a shame, I would have just handed it to him, all that mattered was the paper… Just bits of paper in the bag wrapped over my shoulder, some fuck working in the bank must have set this up, it was the only place a leak could have materialized.

Anyway… I’ve just been Shot and I fall backwards ever so softly… Or at least it seems that way, my chest perforated with hundreds of little soft lead balls that have flattened and surely shredded my internal organs, I don’t feel it though, I know I should be wailing in agony and demanding medical treatment but it’s wonderfully calm actually. I should get shot and die more often, won’t be long now, that mysterious nothingness is all that awaits me… I see the hooded stranger take off down the street, his shotgun leaving a smoky wake as he darts and bulls his way through a crowd of panic, bag in hand. It’s a funny angle, watching his escape as my head rests on the cold wet pavement, Is that blood? Ah yes.. My blood, shock is a wonderful thing, I wonder do a lot of violent deaths end this way when the victim has time to kill before expiring? Is it calm? Soundless? A comforting examination of the events as they play out in slow motion? But yeah…. There goes my blood, mixing with the rain water as it leaks out onto the street. It looks really bad, I really don’t think I’m bleeding THAT badly, the dilution effect.. It has to be, I strain to tell those that approach that it’s just a trick, blood always looks worse mixed with water, but no words come out… Just blood as it seeps out of the sides of my mouth, bubbling through red teeth. They must be scared, they crowd around me now, serious strained faces shouting and gesturing wildly in every which direction… Someone is on the phone, don’t bother, there is no time.

A serious case of day dreaming I have going on at the moment, Yes indeed. Why was I day dreaming about being shot walking out of a bank? Well I was in one at the time of said oddly disturbing day dream, helping my father withdraw a large sum of money, the exact amount is not entirely relevant to this particular blog, but let’s just say it was enough to make me jump away into my imagination and dream about shoot outs at Midday in sleepy town Trim. So what really happened? We waited in an office, sitting in uncomfortable silence with one of the clerks until finally in came the bank manager with the cash, which I spirited into a carry bag and placed over my shoulder… So far so easy.

After much blabbing and small talk pleasantry nonsense I plaster on a fake smile and we both say our goodbyes to the staff…Who I don’t like. I don’t think I like any bank staff, how could you work with all of those huge piles of cash and not try to steal it? I just don’t get it, is it not everyone’s dream to pull off the perfect heist and swing in a hammock whilst smoking opium  as the self proclaimed King of some third world country backed by a band of Mercenary thugs? Am I alone on that one?.
But anyway the nervy part had arrived. People are always wishing for more Money, “I wish I had more money my life would be fucking great, yay hurrah blah blah blah” and all that jazz, but let me tell you… Imagine walking through a town with a large amount of money on you, it never feels quite right… Because you know that on the street with you there is a certain percentage of people who, if circumstances permitting, would take that money from you out of sheer greed, having it makes you paranoid… You’re looking at little girls walk by you and double checking to see if they pull out an uzi machine gun at your back to fill you full of lead… It’s possible you know, you could train them to do that.
But yes.. walking out of the bank, my favourite uncle was waiting for us. I  walked between them as they flanked me, this part I like. I’ve never had bodyguards before, It’s reassuring to know you have these walking bags of meat to slow down a few bullets for you when the shit hits the fan… It was raining but the streets were busy, just like my daydream… But no lunatic with shotgun to end me where I stood thankfully, so anyway we’re walking, nearing the waiting Jeep when I spot this really really attractive woman coming towards us… I mean one of those Gob smacking beauties that give you that just been slugged in the gut feeling when you lay eyes on them. She looked like Eva Green, that wonderful actress in the new Bond Movie… shame she died in that movie actually, at the end she drowns, very convincing little death I might add, but anyway… back on course.

I’m so Smitten by her beauty that I stupidly let my guard down, it was a set up of course, and me like a trained monkey fell for it, beautiful girl, guard down, oldest trick in the book you fool! Before I even had time to cry like a little girl She’s taken out a silenced small calibur firearm and is blazing wildly at my father and favourite uncle.

*Lights Smoke*

So Yes… This is terrible, my father and favourite uncle have just been gunned down in front of my eyes, they drop like sacks of rocks on either side of me. ‘Damn… You cowardly bitch, did you have to kill my favourite uncle?’  I Exclaimed in a really smart arse annoying even by my own standards manner, holding my hands up as she points the handgun at me, a sly grin creeping across her face, indicating to me that she’s not only ruthless, but sadistic… What a combo! Anywho, eventually she opens her yapper and starts flapping her beautiful lips about me setting the money down on the ground and taking a step back, I would be spared, all the usual bullshit, I was unafraid as I held my ground, the rain pattering around us, quietly but confidently offering up a compliment ‘You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen… Wild eyes’ Which seems like a strange thing to say when two immediate family members have just been shot down in front of you and it’s looking like you’re next, but hey… We all realize at this point that I’m day dreaming again… So I can make this as strange as I like.

But back to her reaction, she didn’t like it… My smart arse comment that is, I figured that out as soon as my kneecap exploded after she shot it, I fall to my knees and make a wonderfully dramatic wailing painful screech that trails off into a bored monotone bleargh sound, one suitable for the horrific occasion. It’s raining still… I drop the bag with the money in front of me, she’s approaching now as her gun remains trained upon my forehead… Cold dripping steel pressing against my skull as she arrives to collect her bounty, leaning down with that same grin… Unchanged since it’s arrival, letting me get a perfect view of those small perky tits. What a sadistic bitch, I was almost turned on, fuck it, I was turned on, save for the fact that she thought nothing of ending my life, that’s definitely a barrier to arousal in that respect, so yes… What am I thinking? I can’t just die here in this day dream, I did that in the last one, I want to win this one, I’ve decided… So as soon as her beautiful little greedy fingers are on the bag I launch myself upwards whilst grabbing for the gun, a ballsy play I hear you say. Indeed… and it paid off.. I managed to deflect the aim of the pistol as it fired, continuing upwards as I use my head to crack her one right on the chin.
She’s out cold in an instant, her body falling back to the hard concrete below, a loud wet slap as it comes to a halt. What a shame, In another day dream… we could have been friends doll face, maybe even lovers. I pick the pistol up and aim it at her pretty unconscious face, but I don’t kill her, I want the good guy who is too big hearted to seek revenge ending this time,  so I toss the hand cannon aside along with the evil money. Good Riddance I say, climbing into the back of the Jeep I originally intended to get into in the first place.

My Father and uncle are waiting for me Impatiently in the front seats, there was no attractive lady or murder or anything else exciting for that matter. Just a boring old walk from the bank to a car in the rain. I think I like my world better.

If Trees could talk.

If Trees could Talk

I like fruit trees, I like trees in general, they’re pretty for one, especially in spring and summer, through even in fall and winter they have an amazing visual appeal, slowly leaves die, lose that ripe green colour they have mustered all through the seasons of life, fading into a palette of reds and yellows and oranges and finally brown. The final curtain descending on the growth of life for the year, saying goodbye as winter sets in, they become leafless, piles of dead plant matter scatter throughout the land, clogging drains and gathering in piles along the sides of roads for me to wade and kick my way through, because I love that sloshing leaf sound, reminding us all of death, Autumn is the Season of decay, yet I love it so. The trees themselves live on, enduring the cold, spindle branches playing with the light as you drive or walk beneath their canopies, I like that flicking of light through trees as you move under them, looking upwards, simple wholesome appreciation.

I’m looking out my window at the apple tree in the back garden, already, thanks to the voluminous amounts of sun we’ve received in the last few weeks here in Ireland, the little apple buds are starting to slowly swell and ripen into little balls of juicy soon to be edible goodness. I wonder what the tree would say, if I imbued this living thing devoid of consciousness a mind so that it could think, and lips so that it could speak, I think it would plead with me in an ever so honest way. It would say “Hey.. I give you this fruit year after year, season after season, and you kill me… Why do you do this? Bringer of air and food into your life; all I ask is that you respect me” I would feel a terrible guilt, for here in this imaginary conversation I must speak for all mankind when I reply that “I’m sorry, I do appreciate all that you and like you do for us tirelessly year after year, but I can no more stop killing you than you yourself could refuse to blossom into life each spring while you are able, for it is your nature, and you must obey your nature, like we must obey ours in killing you, for our pride will not allow us to conceive of the idea that you have just as much right to life as we do, your betters must take priority”, and there would be no help in this truth, only pain… And the tree would not speak again, for it would know that all the words in the world would not save it if it came to a choice between my and his existence. Man, for all his reason, is beyond a beast.

The Bastard Wind took my Plum Tree down last night too, curse the fucking air for moving at high speed, taking away the incredibly local source of favourite fruit!

If you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?

Work

The Sheer horror of it.

Even the word fills me with an empty black dread, now don’t get me wrong, I’m not afraid of good honest labour, but let’s be frank, there is a big difference between Work and labour, the former bringing with it countless other annoying social conundrums to contend with, work relationships and the putting up with of assholes “The Boss”, rules , regulations, being on time.. Etc etc. All very annoying we can agree. I Say this because I happen to be stuck in work at the moment, slaving like an 8 year old Malaysian Adidas employee, endless reams of numbers, statements, Invoices, quotations, phone calls. This high pressure corporate world is crushing my poor Hobo Soul, turning me into a machine of profit… All I can think about now is my Job and the making of lots and lots of money so that I may buy such important things as thick Gold Chains and Jewellery to inform the world around me that I have a lot of disposable income and don’t mind flaunting it with meaningless displays of perverse affluence, maybe a flashy car that makes very loud Vroom Vroom noises and is shaped and curved like some fifties American pin up, so that I can impress members of the opposite sex in  the hopes that I might be afforded the chance to stick my penis into them……. Come on ladies, look at me, I have prospects, I have wealth, you can have some too, just let me stick my penis in you!

No…….. wait, wait. I am lying through my sun tanned teeth.

You see, in actual reality, today is “Bring your shotgun into work day” A really fun work bonding experience that involves a Shotgun, 450 rounds of ammunition, 450 Clay Pigeons, a Clay Pigeon Launcher, and one disused scrap yard filled with the hulking wrecks of looming cranes and great big diggers you used to see as a child and dream of driving through anyone and anything that stood in your way… Now just carcasses, a mix of rust and that comforting danger yellow most heavy machinery seems to be blessed with, resigned to rot until someone deems it finally profitable to smelt them down. This idea is the brain child of my father (The Boss). For his many faults, and I do mean many, he is actually one of the greatest employers you can have, (If you’re not his son, that is) as far from conventional as you can get basically. So instead of working this afternoon we all went out back to the scrap yard and set up a firing range, why work when you can blow the crap out of hunks of Clay as they hurtle through the air, I like to imagine they’re little alien saucers flying overhead, trying to spy on us, finding victims for their suitcases of Anal probes, not on my watch, not with my trusty double barrel shotgun at the ready, eat high velocity lead you bug eyed bastards!

Anyway, there was six of us in total and we each took our turns belting out the lead as the clay pigeons sailed silently through the sky at various angles, the wind catching and twisting them in unpredictable directions right at the moment you’re about the pull the trigger, needless to say just about everyone missed most of what they were shooting at(Except myself of course), but not really caring as the sheer thrill of hearing that violent burst of sound that makes your heart jump and your ears scream, the mood was jovial but edgy, which can’t be helped because no matter how much fun you have shooting inanimate objects that secret fear is always in the back of your mind, this machine is designed to Kill, I never forget that when I hold a shotgun, it was no different this time around, especially given the fact that what we were doing was not strictly legal, randomly deciding to shoot weapons in the workplace (Unless you’re a gun club) is generally frowned upon by health and safety inspectors.

But on a slightly lighter note I think I made quite an impression on the youngest of our employees here, “Little” Johnny as he’s affectionately come to be known, due to his small stature, just shy of five feet tall and at 17 probably not going to get any taller, cue little man syndrome, he’s joined a gym to beef himself up, I think his logic is that if he beefs himself up to an Adonis like condition it will somehow compensate for his lack of height (Endlessly fascinated with the expressions of little man syndrome in the vertically challenged people I meet) But he’s a nice fellow, with a good heart and a common sense you don’t expect from someone that age (I had none at that age, not much now for that matter) but all afternoon he wouldn’t stop complementing my skill with the shooting, asking me for tips, had I ever competed or would I consider it, flattery flattery flattery, no idea what to do with it once I receive it, he seems to think my rather nihilistic view of life and its problems is hilarious and easy going, I don’t have the heart to explain to him that it’s really just a cover for my own inability to find and express any type of meaning into my life at the moment, that’s too heavy a truth to place on the shoulders of  little angel faced johnny, who knows nothing of these things, let him have his delusion, at least for now, life will crush him soon enough. Anyway… Excellent times were had all round, by the time we finished it was 4.30pm and almost time to go home, I just had to reflect on the fact that I’m glad I don’t work in some normal structured environment,  I’d never last, Chaos is too close a friend for that kind of world, I’ve no idea what I am going to do with myself long term, I’ve yet to find my purpose, my “use” to make this world a somewhat better place if such a position exists for me, but for now, this will do just nicely, at least until it all comes crashing down around our heads, which it will.

Roll on “Bring Your Hammock and Honey Rum to Work Day”

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