Thursday, December 26, 2002

This is a really weird feeling. And I don't mean that "Scrumpy and white wine" feeling, I mean the one I had before I went to the party, when I read M'amselle's diary. The feeling is very hard to describe. In one way it's sort of like jealousy, in another anger, in another it's happiness. The mixture feels very weird, it's like someone playing with your hormones so every 2 seconds you switch emotions, and your internal dialogue goes something like;

"The bastard, the absolute idiot bastard!"
"That's really sweet.. what a nice idea"
"How could he??? HOW COULD HE!!!!!"
"I think I'm just going to stay quiet for a while, and think about this one"
"God I wish I could find it in myself to hate her"
"And why does that idiot little child think she had any right to exist in my vicinty anyway?"
"I wish someone had ever done that for me"

It's bloody confusing I tell you. One minute your hands are flexing as if you want to put them round someone's throat, the next you want to cry, the next you want to be sick, then you laugh and it sounds funny because you're almost crying at the same time. A very odd feeling indeed. But do you want to know my final thoughts on the matter? No, I know you don't but I don't care, you listen, I talk, is that clear?

She's a silly spoilt little girl, and because she ran off with a rich, handsome man she's getting all these nice things which admittedly I would have given her if I had the money. And by the way I bought her the first valentine she ever had, DOES THAT NOT COUNT FOR ANYTHING? But you know what? Looks only run skin deep. Real beauty is on the inside and I have a talent for seeing inside people. Sadly she appears not to have.

But the really weird thing is that I have all these feelings - real primal feelings stirred up by that stupid boy of hers - and yet I do not care about her. How odd is that? I don't care a damn about what she does with herself or her puppy-faced little bitch who has no right to exist or her handsome rich little spoiled brat of a bastard boyfriend (and I only sound this bitter because it's a habit that's hard to break) I honestly don't care. I can't even find it in myself to care enough to hate her, and even though I've got this weird cocktail of feelings bubbling up inside me and I really need a little soothing Bach before I go entirely mad, I still don't actually on a fundamental level feel anything for her.

I love my wife. She's everything I ever wanted in a person, not just a wife but a best friend. I feel like I could tell her anything, confide and share more than I ever could with anyone else I ever met. She is undoubtedly the most beautiful creature who ever lived. I could write an entire opera just about her breasts, she's that good. And that's why I feel yet do not feel. Not because I care about someone that much, but because she catres about me - and that is something SHE will never have.

Behold the smug grin. I may be anti-marriage, but damn it has it's fringe benefits, particularly the love of a beautiful woman - something M'amselle threw away when she had it, and will never have again. Keep your rich toyboy, he doesn't have two braincells to rub together and his family would disinherit him if they knew about you - so enjoy his money and good looks while they last, because neither can ever be permenant.
Alright, own up. Who snuck into my study last night and published that awful "Don't Feed The Sands" on Yes I know I wrote it. Yes I know it's awful. Yes I know it's loaded with private jokes between me and Stanzibeth that people won't get unless they too happen to think that Julian Sands is a crazed, stripping, blood-hungry scenery chewer AND have seen at least two of his films, AND they probably didn't get the Monty Python refference either. And Monty Python's Phantom thankfully remains unwritten.

So who did it, hmm? Or did it publish itself? Because I certainly have no memory of doing it....

I'm supposed to be going out tonight, and I don't want to. I'm cold and tired and I don't feel very well, and I'm having a bad hair day. Also, it's to a party I'm supposed to be going, one which will also include Martyn, Chrissie and their three children. These kids are darlings, they really are, and their parents are fun too. Sadly I have to stay soberish and pussyfoot around the subject of religion a little, since they are very devoted Christians and I'm not sure how they would take knowing that the woman they trust three kids from five to twelve (at least I think that's the ages) with is a Witch. No offence meant whatsoever to Chrissie's choice in bringing up her children this way, or even to her own religion - hell no, she's a wonderful woman, there's not a bigoted bone in her body - and no offence to any Christians either, but those girls won't be Christian for long. You want to know why? They're too intelligent.

In much the same way most people who adhere to the philosophies of Kant only do so because they stopped at the first thing they encountered, most intelligent Christians are only so because they don't really know anything else. This doesn't make their faith any less meaningful to them of course, and some of them I'm sure would stay Christian even if educated about every other path in the known universe, but the fact is that most people in this country would count themselves as Christian because they don't know any better and don't have the time or the inclination to do anything about that little thing we call "exploration"

However. Alys, Lily and Poppy are three of the most fiercely intelligent girls I have ever met. Nothing is ever enough for a young mind with that sort of zeal, and with such intelligence often goes a dislike to such things as genocide, ethnic cleansing and other issues dear to the hearts of myself and many others in philosophical debates. In all likelihood, if those children ever have to swear themselves to a creed when they are older, they will say they are Christian, but at the same time that will be a lie. Girls like that are Seekers - they may never find a path, they may choose to stick with Christianity, they may settle down in a three-bedroomed cell and become Shaolins, but they will always thirst after more knowledge.

I know some people like that who are commited Christians. More power to their elbow - it doesn't stop them asking me and other people of different faiths questions, or exploring our ideas and practices. I'm not saying Christianity is for stupid people (though oddly enough most of the really stupid bigots I've known in my time HAVE been Christians and you know who you are, Miss Wilson-Sharp) But when those intelligent people I know say "I'm a Christian" they mean "I believe in Jesus Christ, I believe that he was the Son of God. I believe that the Big Three look after us and love us because we are God's children regardless of faith, colour or creed" basically, what they mean is "big it up for the Nicene Creed" and what they specifically do NOT mean is "I believe that I should line my greedy pockets in the name of God, destroy this beautiful planet and the people who live on it who don't agree with me and my God" basically "My God's bigger than your God and he'll whoop you from here to whenever if you don't pay him homage"

Pfft. Organised religion is organised crime, organised rape! Organised SLAVERY! Down with the organised religion that strangles the babes of this country, down with this government that puts our perfectable natures in a bag and throws us in the Thames! ARISE YEA MIGHTY FOLLOWERS OF GODWIN AND REJOICE, OUR HOUR IS AT HAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*ahem* so yes.

To get back to my original point. I'd really rather curl up by the fire with a cup of cocoa, but it looks like I'm going to this party instead.

Ohhh wellll....

Wednesday, December 25, 2002

I just went to check my email. Now admittedly I'm at that "toasted not-cheese sandwitch third bottle of wine what day is it who's the King?" stage of Xmas, but I still can't help but be slightly ruffled by MSN's little advert. If you've got a Notmail account, log in and see, if not - it says in the bottom left corner of the screen;


How representative of the human condition can you damn well get? Unwanted gifts - how can there be such a thing?! A gift is something you get because some cares about you, it's not an obligation you know! If you don't life someone you don't buy them anything. OK I admit, I got two people who don't care much for me a set of cute little silver napkin rings because they are so sweet I HAD to get them and I don't own napkins, so somone had to have them as a gift and it happened to be them, but my point stands. Maybe when that novelty singing cookie jar grates just a little to much or you get a letter from Little One's therapist saying "please get rid of your novelty Sooty bow tie for your child's health" THEN you hop on Ebay and get a bit of cash for your trinkets, but until then they are gifts given in a good spirit. And I don't care what Faith you are here - one of the nicest gifts I ever recieved was a silk scarf from a Jewish friend of mine when I still spent a lot of time in Whitechapel. A Channukha gift. Now, Judith knew damn well I wasn't Jewish or ever likely to be accepted as a Jew even if I did decide to convert which is practically impossible for women by the way, but she bought me a lovely scarf and both she and her daughter Sidone shared their tradition with me, which was wonderful. What was also nice, by the way was going swimming in the River Cambridge with Sidone, but I was picking sticky darts out of my swimming costume for months afterwards. Matter of fact I don't even have that one any more, it was too full of River Cam dirt.

And yes, I've totally lost my thread.....

Oh.. gifts, yes. Well anyway as you all know I'm a vegan. That means no chocolate which I can't say I'm sad about as I never liked it much anyway. But my friend Sheila doesn't know this (she was in Texas when I went vegan. Explains everything) and she's also part Belgian through no fault of her own. Not that there's anything wrong with being Belgian, sorry Stanzi... :) So she bought me some Belgian chocolate cookies. Which was of course very thoughtful of her, and how is she to know I always mostly gave her Belgian gifts to other people anyway? In any case, she got my parents the video of "Ocean's 11" which A) I have been told by many people that I must see and B) The parental Unit already owns.

There is a very simple solution to all this, see if you can work it out.......

That's right. Being vegan, and the parents already owning the tape, I trade a box of Belgian goodies (which the Parental Unit adores) for "Ocean's 11" and everyone's happy, we all got something we will enjoy and Sheila need never know. We have recieved her gifts in the generous spirit they were intended in, but as it happens we've swapped a bit, not big deal, it doesn't make her gifts any less appreciated - in fact it makes them more so because we each got something we really liked - a decent movie, a box of nice munchies, whatever!


Indeed. If your gifts are unwanted, your family or whoever else you choose to spend this period with is not kind enough to help you trade about until everyone is happy. Remember you ungrateful sods, when your mother uncrosses her legs, you don't pop out with pen in hand to sign a contract which includes "I will buy gifts for everyone I know at Xmas" (Unless you're the worst sort of 'Merkin) you get gifts for people you really care about and you take time choosing them. And the poeple who buy you gifts take time choosing them too. In a way, Xmas is more about the thought that goes into it all than the gifts themselves. Not that it isn't nice to get nice sparkly parcels on December 25th :) But my point is, if your gifts are unwanted, you shouldn't bother with Xmas at all. Because no matter what faith you are it's a lovely time to forget the fact that even though we are almost certainly going to have an all out bun-fight with Iraq over those weaons of mass destruction we know they have (Oh and by the way, we know they have them because WE BUILT THEM) despite the fact that they may not still be there or they may not even want to use them, and even though Uncle Pete smells of cabbage and calls you Jeff even though your name is Suzy. No matter what, it's a time to get together and raise a glass or seven to family, friends, hope and love.

Merry whatever all, And make sure you put that Olsen Twins doll set that Aunt May gave you away carefully. When the Twins have gone out of fashion (say in, oh.. three weeks? wishful thinking maybe but we can only hope.....) You can get quite a bit for it if you can't find someone in the family who wants it. And we all have nieces and nephews who still love that sort of thing - hell... my nephew plays golf.
OK my last Blog post got swallowed by the Ravenous Beast of Tech, so here I am again. What happened since I last posted? House Chrsitmas, blah blah, mexican food cooked by M'amselle, heavy on the drugs, hand of death on living room table, ball lightning against shop window the next day, blah blah "ja Ludwig, ahhh,... hold mein vig on, oooh ja!" blah blah long journey home, didn't seem so bad. For some reason London keeps making me very bouncy - Hmm need to spend more time with Xander. Went to afforementioned oldest of old friend's 21st celebration, got pissed beyond belief, sang karaoke, blah blah, here I am, at home....

So me sez to me parents, "Dis DVD player sofware is fucked, let me uninstall it, 'tis only takin' up dee space on yer hard drive" and dey sez "Oh no, we call Marteeen in to fix it" and me sez "And what he do that I not do? He read de manual and scratch he head, just like me!" and dey sez "Oh we call out de technical support den" and me sez "Technical support, what dey do but charge you too much?!"

And so it goes on. The end result being I will have to wait until I get back to Lancaster to watch teh DVD director's cut edition of Amadeus which by the way is the best film in the entire world unless we count musicals in which case Little Shop deserves a mention. Apart from that, best film ever. EVER.

Spent Xmas Eve (and by the way I do that because I can't be bothered to type Christmas all the time) reading phluff - hey what can I say? I'm a great big sucker for three things; Free booze, a pretty girl in a white dress, and Erik and Christine living happily ever after. Well alright there are many other things I'm a sucker for but those are the main three. And when I ran out of phluff I dragged out the Dickens and was shocked to find myself enjoying it. I always regarded Dickens as the biggest slog of them all apart from Austen but it was very pleasant. Perhaps because I was picturing The Great Gonzo narrating it. Does Tiny Tim get on anyone else's nerves? I'm not the discharitable sort - even Lord Wuss enjoys Xmas, it's the one day a year he can have a guilt free decent dinner - I like happy endings (sort of) but Tiny Tim really irritates me and I just don't know why. Anyone know? Answers on a weasel to

Well I think I'm going to go see if any more phluff has appeared. Xmas tends to tickle the phans... Mery Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

*tumbles into graveyard to land dramatically on a great big Angel*

"Oh, hello Mr Boreanaz, free this evening?"

"Certainly am. Don't mind the wife and kid they'll wait, chances like you come once a lifetime"

"I assure you I come more often than that, David"

Yes it was a cheap gag. Two in fact.