Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Intermission: The Killing Joke

I woke up at 5am today and went out for breakfast. Not having a regular job compels me to enjoy breakfast. And waking up early.

I bought an issue of NST.

AR Rahman said, upon winning two Oscars recently, "All my life, I had a choice between hate and love. I chose love, and I am here."

Well, fuck you, AR Rahman. I mean, congratulations and all, and fuck you. Fuck me too.

I choose neither love nor hate. I choose doubt. Doubt is my product. It's what I'm selling. Like Bill Maher.

I had some half-baked plans earlier this year to go to London, to Hyde Park, and hold up a placard saying, "Don't believe anyone, including me." and then stand on a soapbox - a real wooden soapbox - and expound on the virtues of not believing anyone.

It's just so stupid, I have to do it before I die.

Cause you see, some people got it WRONG. They believe that not believing makes them smart. They believe that knowing or being suspicious of other people's motives and agenda as the smart thing to do.

Na-ah. They're just as stupid as everyone else. Moreso, because it's all about their egos. They're wasting time on other people.

Nope. Real doubt is acceptance that we don't know jack shit about nothing. And neither does anyone else.

They might want you to believe they know shit, cause there is arrogance there - and I am an expert on arrogance - that they know MORE than you. And because they have MOAR, they are MOAR. MOAR!

In the end, they will also die. And no one gives a shit.

Everybody lies. Maybe not all the time, but they lie. ANd if you believe them, then somehow, you are inferior. They got the better of you. They are bigger than you. They are better than you.

Pathetic, isn't it? Well, that's what they do.

I met my fair share of conmen. And friends who pretended to be shit but are actually shit. Everyone has them. Betrayers of trust. Selfish motherfuckers. Bla bla bla. Especially if you're a big blubbering vagina.

I met people who expound on ideal shit and then when the shit hits the fan, they are the same grubby, dirty motherfuckers as everyone else.

Everyone has a right to screw-ups. It's the ultimate democracy. Ho-hum. Pass me the petroleum jelly, cause I'm just wanking.

The secret is not letting any of this have any effect on you. People suck. So what? Life goes on, bitch.

Nothing you've ever done will be as cool or as stupid or as crappy as the things you WILL do. Eventually.

And then you die. And what does it matter then? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are worth practically nothing.

In the 50s, according to a short story in the Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy (or was it the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction), all the chemicals in your body is worth USD1.99. With commodity prices down, I wonder how much we are worth now.

To be trapped in the black hole of despair is ridiculous. To lose yourself in the delirium of intoxicants and whatever the fuck is cowardice. To retreat into dreams is more proof you have no balls. Destiny sucks. I hate predestination.

Everything is a joke. Can't you see that? The whole world. Politics, artsy-fartsy shit, celebrities, money. It's one big thigh-slapper. It'll leave you in stitches. Everyone is a clown. Ha ha. I get it. I do. Ha. Ha. Ha.

And no, I am not unhappy. In fact, I am content. I can work with this. This is my turf. I know comedy and the whole world's a fucking sitcom.


Don't believe anyone. Not even me.