Tuesday, 25 March 2014
No Country for Young Men
So this post here be is just going to be a bit of an "on yous go" tirade, blather on about what bes going on with the blog and De Franco and all that related shite. Oh, and apologies on the comments, will get on that as soon as possible.
First, I've been completely bollocksed over when it comes to study. I've taken a pretty big risk in a lot of ways and quite frankly, I have no clue if I can pull it off or not. Assuming I do though, things look a bit more open, a bit more fresh, a bit more terrifying.
The academic environment is horrible, sick, twisted hoards of passive aggressive skinny fat bespectacled aspergery fucktards. Successful failures. Commenter Shenpen had an excellent comment on why this may be the case, chronicling the lack of community amidst cunts and cuntesses. Used tae be a man knew what he had to do, what was expected of him. Environments of pissy little milquetoasts is, above all else, exhausting, ugly, deep imbibed in a cunt's psyche. Equality week. Diversity day. Another LGBT rainbow week, as if those fucken bullys deserve one. Fucken hell like. Wimminz week. Bring your vibrator to university day. This is what this place has become. Some of the finest gents to walk, and this is how you repay them. That's why I brought the oil thing up. It seems to be one of the few environments where a cunt is given a map, a line a target, the cage is opened and yous are told "up to yous lad, get cracking!"
Which is why I'm getting out of it, once and for all.
So where is there to go? Ireland is quadrospazzed, built upon a shaky foundation of European credit and bond purchases, a lad needs to look for fresh grass, new adventures, a call to the wild, to act all cheesy an saccharine and shit. It seems to be something left over from Generation X, bequeathed to the Millenials, people forging masks of irony, playful cynicism, a race down to the meaningless bottom where every lad is as mopey as the last. There be no true atheist a cunt can say that.
So where is there to go? It will follow the same format. The carry on back with the couple of nicknacks I own, the jumping, nay immersing myself in another country altogether, watching every grain of sand pass through the hands of the lassie. Nine different Francos, nine different timelines, nine different countries, all geometrically decaying. The drinking and the other stuff, oh yeah, I need to stop that too. St Patricks Day was all crawling under tables and stealing drinks. Go figure.
The truth will set you free. It's like disentangling Christmas lights, there's still a mess of things in tangles there, but if yous don't accept the truth of things, that's going to be one hell of a bare looking Christmas tree ken. Because I think I get it now, the absolute truth, the great gig in the sky. This system works like this, that lad and his mates works like that, this person desires this in his life, that lassie is not into her boyfriend anymore, that man is on smack and so forth. You can literally see the little lines of code running through the streets as you make your way to the crack den with the dollar bill in yer nose. Used to be books like The Bible and Willie Shakespeare taught a cunt these things, mad hungry fiend Cicero and all of that and yes its terrifying, raw, tender, jump and let it all go. Reactionary is like the Ludovico technique, the more you understand and comprehend your surroundings. But it's something that at the end of the day, you wouldn't trade in for the world, right lads? Or is that steak too juicy for yous? Who wants to be a bread and butter cunt anyhoo?
So long story short, posting might be a bit spotty for the next little while. This project I have that might very definitely fail, other projects I want to do, looking at your inner demons, too much time spend online and all that comes with it. But start of May we might see something. A new hope, even though there be no country for the young lad or lassie.
Wish me luck.