I can't say I'm the biggest fan of this season. The way things have been commercialised gets to me somewhat. You've got every atheist and his cousin giving gifts, because it's the done thing, yet ultimately, there's no true meaning to it. Nothing anymore has anything to do with the fact that God gave us his son. It's simply about how much retailers can exploit their profit margin through a carefully planned marketing campaign.

So, to this end, I have a solution. I need to falsify documents that prove that a friend of mine is Santa. Following this, he makes a statement at a press conference that he has no further intention of handing out gifts, due to the fact that he has filed for bankruptcy, since Ossama Bin Laden flew a 747 into his toy workshop. After that, "Santa" must elect me as his official legal advisor, and subsequently, we will sue everyone that have used him as an advertising tool without his permission. And voila, we're back to square one: Christmas, a holiday where only Jesus' birth is celebrated.

Christmas would no longer be a simple commercial mockery anymore. It'd become a holiday where people give gifts because God gave us a gift. I'd be the saviour of the true spirit of Christmas. And not only that, but I'd be a rich motherfucker too.

Nothing is sacred these days. We live in an age where, to the majority of people, most everything is worthless. Sex is an act that gets participated in because we're horny. Love? That's an illusion. Or at least, so I've been told. Marriages? Be honest now, how many of those do you know that've worked out? Offhand, I can think of four.

To be honest, I'm personally all for them changing the wording of the oath two people take when they enter into marriage to "...till death do us part, or we tire of each other, and modern legislation permits us to tell each other to get fucked.", rather. At least it'll be closer to the truth. I mean, we don't want some people to get up false hope, after all, right?

There are two reasons for this rant, one of which I won't get into.... The other, well, it's hardly the reason I'm in the mood I'm in. Ordinarily, I'd resign myself to this. But anyhow.

To get the ball rolling, a good friend phoned me this afternoon, to relate to me the story of his short weekend holiday to the Northern province. He had a couple of tales to tell me, which he thought I'd appreciate thoroughly. The first, being one of a female who had gone along on holiday with him.

From what my mate told me, she'd recently broken up with her boyfriend, and was looking to engage in a good make-out session or two. The reason he knows this, is because she was flirting with him while he was in the process of writing his novel. However, he pulled what has been duly dubbed a "Karlos". It took him longer than the space of a day to figure out he was being flirted with. Which is understandable, except for the one statement she made in his company. "I could really do with a foot massage." she said to him, in a really innocent tone, I'm sure.

And being the person I am, and possessing the faith in humanity which I do, I would put 20:1 odds on the fact that she was indeed looking for a long, meaningful relationship. Any sucke... er, I mean, betting men that want to take me that bet? Come on, I'm sure that naive innocent waif wasn't interested in getting violated like a parking meter. Right? Right?!


The second story, well, I think I can sum it up reasonably succinctly. What happens when you mix enough men and women? Right! Karlos's Universal Law no. 1: men + women = fucking

Do the maths. Not only is it a balanced equation, but it's also an inalienable truth of life! So anyway, what essentially happened, is two people hooked up on that holiday. Which is nothing special. They were horny, so they shagged. Nothing unusual in this day and age.

What might surprise you, however, simply proves one of my theories on life. The guy, in fucking the girl, was cheating on his girlfriend. Nothing out of the ordinary I suppose. He'd only been seeing her for a paltry six years. As for the girl, well, she ended up cheating on her boyfriend of five years.

And if you ask me, it almost seems like par for the course, really. It's to be expected, right? I mean, two people meet for the first time, their meaningless relationships go straight to hell, and they proceed to fuck like bunnies. After all, what's a measly five years? Why bother with a cumbersome relationship, when you can fuck someone you haven't fucked before? What's five years when matched up against the possibility of fucking someone new?


Nope, nothing is sacred anymore.

Whee! I removed another blog. Look how whimsical I am!

I watched Clockwork Orange tonight, for the second time. It is without a doubt, one of the best works ever created, as far as metaphorical stabs at the depravity, the selfishness, the aggressiveness and the sexual drive that is an inherent part of human nature go. And in saying that, I'd actually love to know exactly how Anthony Burgess perceived humanity, for him to have written a work of literature like that. The man's views must've been interesting, to say the least. Moveover, he held these views more than thirty years back.

Moreover, you can't help but smile at the way democracy is portrayed: As a system of government that, while still being fair from the point of view of giving everyone a "say", can be manipulated in order to benefit those in control of a country.... Exactly what Mugabe is doing right now....

Somewhat ironic, really.

I must say, fiction like that appeals to me simply because of the way it depicts people. While being somewhat tongue-in-cheek, there's an element of truth to the portrayal as well. What I find interesting is that the slight amount of truth in movies like those can elude us simply because we either don't examine the movies properly, or we dismiss it as a work of fiction.

This is a good argument for literature, actually, since you're forced to take in what you read in order to comprehend whatever you're reading. Novels are without a doubt a far more interactive form of storytelling than movies.

The past two weeks... have been absolutely weird. The fine line between what is imagination and what is reality is somewhat blurred. Throw surrealism into the fray, and you've got a recipe for a good mental brawl. To be honest, the mental state I'm in right now is vaguely reminiscent of the state I was in 3 odd years back, and I don't know why. There's no concious reason behind it, that's for sure.

Most people didn't know me 3 years back. To be honest, I don't think anyone did, really. And when I say that, I include myself. I have almost no recollection of the events that took place from 1998 through to 2001. If I wanted to, I could piece together vague recollections that seem more surreal than anything else, but the likelihood that they actually did occur is good. The question I have to ask myself, is would I want to analyze that portion of my life? What good would it do me? It'd only prove to me even more conclusively that all humans are inherently fallible. This brings me to the question of perception, and the fallibility of perception, which is a topic I feel is best left for another night.

My head's swimming, and my social aspect of who I am is on auto-pilot. I'm whimsical. I have no drive. I'm simply one ridiculous whimsical instinctively driven individual at this moment in time(yet to what extent? would I fuck whatever offered to put out right now based on instinct?). And my perception is feeling too fallible right now.

If this post makes no sense, it's because this 'existence' I'm residing in, this body, this soul, these thoughts, are all really really disorientating at the moment.