now we are six (8/August/18)

we accept so much ugliness in the world, these incompatible deformities and gracelessness, because they coexist with each other and worryingly, with ourselves… we all too easily and quickly become inured, immune, complacent and ultimately mutely and unconditionally accepting, a shock becomes a shrug, a shrug becomes a swipe of the finger onto the next 15 minute/ second buzz…
… there once was a Boris and that once is now who had literary pretensions far exceeding any presumed or genuine literary skills who, underneath a Halloween mask of clumsiness, was either genuinely stupid or genuinely disingenuous feigning ignorance between the act of stimulating a debate anxiety and actually being offensive, a red line in a six year old child one perhaps may forgive for not discerning difference but as a grown-up with all the grown-up responsibilities  and attributes that for better or worse go hand-in-hand one is merely left astounded at such levels of wilful disdain and ignorance… the Boris suffered mostly from not a single original thought, becoming a merry plagiarist of other lives, seeking the vicarious spotlight and attention of those even more deluded than him in which to disturbingly, toplessly bask oblivious that perhaps some men, as is imposed (rightly or wrongly) upon women, should not take their tops off in public… and did so, in copycat-killer of language style, sycophantically steal a method employed by another stain of evolution called a Trump both of whom care not a jot what slicks and debris are left in their wake and again like a six year old child pronounces as outrageous a diatribe of bile and deceit just to see how far he can push it and push it and push it while dancing and flailing with puppety arms and puppety hair…. isn’t it enough to be baffled as to how and why anyone, especially a leader of la-la land gets away with astounding levels of bile, hate and divisive intolerance without having our very own Trump-a-like pretender in a ‘Boris’ on this side of the sea-level rising pond lapping every cowpat he steps in with relish…… this is not to “stifle debate” or “avoid the hard questions”, such overused shorthand itself designed to shut down informed discussion, it’s merely wishing for intelligence over the dance-macabre twitteresque excreted by twits.

© 2018 robert greig

comfortable place on the couch (2/August/18)

a place for everything and everything in its place… it’s a veritable mantra, perfect for resting the mind, body and soul… and I admit like I have done before I like some semblance of order, I need it, need things to have a place and know I don’t thrive on a mess, it’s just how I am and if it’s a flaw then it is what it is…. there’s another convenient mantra, it is what it is…… politicians use and most definitely abuse this desire, almost utopian drive, for a place for everything and everything in its place by purposefully sewing discord, promoting disharmony, creating dissonance which reinforces disenchantment, disempowerment by providing the one solution, let them fix it, the very ones who broke it… a bit of dysfunction goes a long way in shoring up a power base and asserting ever more controlled control, it’s the nudge effect, to push someone in the direction you want them to go sneak up on them from behind… they thrive on division and disunity, though only to a degree, it’s a clever conjuring trick for those who can do it, like I say, granny’s footsteps, they’ll never see it coming until it’s too late so they feed on such fears and a desire for order rather than mayhem, which isn’t a bad thing in itself but it does require you don’t ask too many questions while they are ‘fixing’ what they have fostered and continue to do just enough to quell a cadence of dissent allowing them to bask in the glow of, in some cases, a mythical chaos, when all the while throwing it tidbits to ensure just the right amount, not too much not too little, of division and disunity which is all very disingenuous but it’s never been easy to look behind the mirror when your own comfortable place on the couch complacency is staring right back at you……

© 2018 robert greig

perfect distraction (31/July/18)

as July ekes to a close, or eeks! to a finale, depending on how it’s been for you dear I find that plastic has become to new black, and the perfect distraction, albeit a laudable one in finally, finally, so slow as people are to change their set-in-skin ways, we are doing something about something some of us have long known for ten or twenty years or more, but I suppose we got there, or are getting there in the end… plastic, ah! spawn of Satan!… not quite but it is most definitely overused, absurdly used, cheaply-used and worse still used for things it doesn’t need to be… like a lot of new-fangled are, so-called, fifteen minutes of fame e-this and e-that and i-this and i-that claim to replace this, that or the other and in the end cause more problems than they are worth…… but like I say the whole anti-plastic revolution has become the perfect distraction against Brexit, I suppose in part because it is actually something we can do something about rather than Brexit which is, as like plastic can be seen but was in fact foresaw by those who actually engage their brains once in a while as being something we can do absolutely nothing, zero, diddly-squat about besides do remarkably good but disturbing impressions of decapitated fowl…… it’s good to have a cause, especially one that requires so little effort… or so we are lead to believe… even though it is something that requires far more and quicker effort than is actually happening as most going on is decidedly tokenistic, albeit, like I say, at least it’s something but, just like household recycling, we are given the basic tools, i.e. plastic (which incidentally are plastic) boxes and a pat on the back, all without encouraging that extra step in being genuinely and actively concerned in first where it goes after it leaves your kerbside and even if it gets recycled at all or landfilled or simply stuffed down the back of a metaphorical sofa, but secondly, the cause of what you’re filling up these boxes with in the first place and the responsibility required… and there is a thirdly which is a much, much bigger societal thing, but also in itself environmental as everything is indelibly and inextricably superimposed on the other, and that’s wealth and it’s barely-tolerated playmate, poverty…… perfect distractions are perfectly designed to perfectly manufacture feel-good, or feel-bad without tackling the fundamental inequalities, crack those and voila!…. perfect distractions, as I say laudable and still worth it, are in the end just that, perfect distractions.

ps… and here endeth July……

© 2018 robert greig