La vrai vie est
( toujours ) ailleurs !....
With apologies to Rimbaud, but it is always true – real
Life, is elsewhere! Particularly, when you become so disenchanted with the
times that you find yourself in… The current! Disenchantment with almost
everything… the so called culture , the environment… socio-politically
and just socially… Everything!...
Personally, I always begin to feel a little
disenchanted when I have been stuck in the same place ( IRL) for at least six
months. Apart from a short trip to France recently, I was only out of the c(o)untry
for a short week last June in sunny Sardinia. At least, over Christmas, in a
couple of weeks, it will be possible to put one’s feet up for a while and
forget the God damn commute, and all the suffering joy that it brings…!
I should not complain, of course. After all, I am one
of the lucky ones! So, imagine my happiness, yes real happiness!, when the latest instalment of Céline books
came via Amazon this morning; I opened my door only to be confronted by
a brown cardboard pillow ( envelope) lying at my feet. “Could it be,” I thought…
Quickly, bring the packet inside, I opened it to
discover Féerie pour une autre fois ( Folio, Gallimard), Á l’agité du
bocal ( L’Herne), and finally Ballets sans musique, sans personne, sans
rien ( L’imaginaire, Gallimard).
It’s like a fix, at this stage. After reading the
preface to Féerie, by Henri Godard, I already know that I must get Maudits
soupirs pour une autre fois next, as it is all part of the same project
along with Normance, which I have partially reviewed here. I know, I
need to finish this article but I’ve been working my balls off and academic
style writing, right now, is simply not on the cards girls and boys!
I need a bottle of Calva, which my good brother will
be brining up to me, and a few days snuggled up on the couch with the hund (
Argo) before I get back to that lark.
In the meantime, here’s another little extract from The
Deplorables…!
There is talk of war. There has been now for some
time. My generation is unusual in this respect as it will be our first time.
Our first time, in a real war I mean.
It’s a funny thing, you prepare yourself all your life
for the eventuality of it happening but then, when it is actually about to kick
off, for real this time, you just can’t believe it all the same.
People can be such cunts, you know. CUNTS….! Absolute
fucking cunts. There’s no getting away from this revelation. Of course, I knew
it all the time.
In times of so -called peace, you could always see it.
The sheer cuntdom of some people. Not all of them, mind.
There are always one or two good ones. One or two,
mind. No more.
I’ve been following the news more than usual, of
course. It’s still far away, in the middle east, but it will come here too.
It’s been a while, about 100 years. So, people here have become quite
complacent.
Oh, they will be reminded very quickly just how bad it
can get. They take things for granted. Food, heat, and a roof over their head.
Wait till their houses are destroyed and they have no food to eat… That is when
they will find God again. You’ll see.
It would be comic if it were not so fucking tragic, in
the end. A real comedy. Yea.
I have always been wary of people. It must be my
upbringing. Total cunts, of course. Parents!...Jesus, they should have just
tied a knot on it.
The Chinese, now, they are a serious people. One child
is enough.
Listening to people is the most difficult thing
imaginable. Their wants…their specific needs. Most people can’t even do it.
Listen properly, I mean. Cunts. You see!
It’s one of the most immediately recognisable features
of a cunt. They actually become physically uncomfortable trying to listen to
others…
I have actual empirical proof of this fact. Can you
imagine!...
Such is the scope of their egotism. CUNTS…!
How do you recognise a cunt?
Talk to him, and if he squints kick him in the
bollocks.
No comments:
Post a Comment