It’s the little things
By blighters rock
- 526 reads
I wish I was a spider, easy rules of play, you try and get me, I try and get you, no mixing, just blood and guts and survival and no moral bollocks.
But I’m no spider and the only web in my life is the one I’m caught in, like a helpless fly waiting for the crunch, waiting for my eyes to close and never have to open again.
Yes, I’m a human being with values and scruples and love and regret, watching kids getting blown up on breakfast TV.
Actually that’s not entirely true, I sold the telly a few months back in a bid to retrieve my brain, which needless to say hasn’t worked out. But seeing those little faces with hands holding out those little empty bowls - I had to get shot of the thing, knowing their fate.
They stuck in my head, those little faces and bowls (the mind is a strange thing and I kept wondering how they got them so clean but then I reconciled the thought by imagining them wiping them ceaselessly for hours, dreaming of the next bit of food).
One kid that’s probably stuck in my head for good was face up on a hospital floor, almost naked but for a bit of cloth, looking up at the photographer with eyes pleading for mercy.
How was he to know all the snapper really wanted was the money shot to pay the mortgage? He may even get an award for that shot.
I get confused so I tried explaining my ‘feelings’ to a few friends but they told me to man up, and they didn’t want other people’s problems ruining a perfectly good pint either, so I drained mine and went home and wrote something and put it on the web in a moment of righteous self-importance. Not ten minutes later the phone went all funny for about two hours.
When it went back to normal I stared at the thing and heard the camera go click. I checked but there was no picture. As for the post I didn’t even get one like for it.
Not so much bombing these days, now they’re all on the run. I rolled a fag for a homeless guy on crutches outside the tube this morning and he told me it’s got to the stage when it’s all about starvation and humiliation. I gave him a light and then someone came up to him and smacked him hard in the face. The homeless guy reeled backwards and then picked up his crutches and chased after the chap. He got him too, not a pretty sight. Probably crack.
So things are much the same over here, although I must say there are an awful lot of babies being murdered at the moment, by their folks too. Must be the filthy weather.
There was the one baby found in a pub toilet the day before yesterday, another was left in a bag for life in a shed by a pair of screwballs on the run. They’re in prison now but I’d like to see them shot. I’d pay to watch them shit themselves as the gunman slowly, ever so fuckin’ slowly, took aim.
The other one that was left in a frozen food bag in a park survived and is now doing really well.
It’s the little things.
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Comments
Tellies
Thank you BR. This isn’t the first time that you’ve said what I’ve been thinking.
I’m utterly appalled by the reluctance of the developed world’s leaders, banks, weapons manufacturers and miscellaneous mega-rich people to do something good about the terrible things that are happening to our once beautiful planet. But it makes good television and lots of lovely money.
Watching News at Ten these days is like sitting down to watch your own leg being sawn off. We don’t really like it and it makes us uncomfortable, but we feel obliged to care a bit. For some of us it crosses our minds that we should have gone to a doctor to make the leg better before it got this bad.
Governments appear to believe that the best way to deal with a problem is to make it worse until everyone is dead. And so far everything seems to be going to plan. They have war, famine and pestilence up their sleeves, so one of these is bound to succeed.
‘Thank you for this award. I’m so proud to be voted Journalist of the Year. It means a lot to me.’ they might say ‘But not as much as my two-million-pound home in Surrey.’ I hope the dying kids in Palestine were invited to the ceremony.
I gave up my telly twelve years ago. I gave it to one of my grown up kids who have since worn holes in the screen from watching it so much. As well as the constant terrible news, I can’t stand the mind-numbing dross that they show us to take our minds off the problems and make us think that everything is nice again. And there isn’t one single television presenter (apart from Kirsty Young) who doesn’t repulse me with their arrogance, smarminess, over-inflated ego, sycophantism or any combination of those.
And there’s the man who didn’t make enough out of being a top footballer so he found the need to earn more by sitting in a television studio to talk about football to the point that he’s the BBC’s highest paid presenter but he’s still a bit short so he sells a few crisps. Luckily he still manages to find the time to put the world to rights via his artist formerly known as Twitter account.
But I stay away from Twitter and Facebook. They irritate me as much as a telly would. Publish something on this anti-social media about Gaza or Yemen or Sudan or refugees drowning in the English Channel and only your two best friends will read it. That is how they came to be your best friends. But if you post a picture of a fluffy kitten with a ribbon in its hair or a little puppy looking for a home, the whole of Facebook is on it. Benjamin Netanyahu loves my new cat by the way.
Turlough
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Viva Nothing
Hello Richard.
I'd very much like to read your gambling and drinking journal. I'm guessing that it's not full of tips on how to get started. Thanks very much for offering to send a copy (I'd love a bit of those Spice Girls commemorative stamps... which side would you lick first?) but the postal system in Bulgaria is only about 60% accurate. So an ebook might be best.
I am... terrythefootman@yahoo.com
¡Hasta la victoria siempre!
Terry.
Turlough
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Super, smashin' great!
Super, smashin' great!
I'll look forward to reading it.
Turlough
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Terrible news and dross, I
Terrible news and dross, I think Turlough summed it up. Is the world going to hell in a handcart or is it just me? Or is the world constantly being wheeled back and forth from the brink of hell to something a bit better. So much for evolution.
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My son has been brought up
My son has been brought up without telly. I don't think he has missed it. We get all news from radio 4. I send them grumpy emails and suggestions for programs all the time, which they ignore. When the Gaza slaughter started, the presenter of PM seemed wholly on the side of Israel, frequently asking people in Gaza, to sound of bombs falling around them, if they felt sorry for Israeli families who had relatives taken as hostages. As they told him about their own relatives and friends who had been killed by recent bombs, he would ask if they blamed Hamas. It was horrible to listen to their desperation and how he seemed oblivious to it. This has changed. I don't know what BBC reporting was like on telly, but on the radio, Jeremy Bowen is brilliant. I hope he is looking out for drones at all times, and that the BBC will not allow any attempts to smear his character in order to stop him reporting. That this is a reasonable possibility is very scary to me. I really enjoy your rants, and if I read them on facebook would definitely comment. The trouble is with the emojis - a thumbs up is not appropriate
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Facebook needs an 'absolutely
Facebook needs an 'absolutely horrified' emoji to click on these days Di. And if yer man Zuckerberg says there's no room for it, they could take away the smiley face one which has outserved its usefulness.
Turlough
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just one for ", I am angry
just one for ", I am angry too, I agree with you" But then everyone who used it would be flagged as a terrorist. Perhaps all those who read such comments and say nothing are the wise ones, the reeds bending in the wind
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