The weather is particularly gruesome here in the UK at the moment which is always conducive to slouching on the sofa with a good book. Indeed as I write the sky is dark grey, rain is lashing down and the wind is pulling ferociously at the trees and telephone wires.
So not a particularly great view from my study then. I did actually order a room with a picturesque canyon and sunset overlooking a discreetly placed chocolate factory. But God was on holiday and St Peter sent me the view for blasphemers. What an absolute rotter.
Yikes. Judgement Day. I’ve got some strong feelings and philosophies about Judgement Day which I can sum up (surprisingly) rather succinctly;
It’s pretty scary stuff.
Yep, that’s my philosophy. You didn’t expect something profound did you? Look, I don’t do profound stuff. Sometimes I try but every time it reminds me of what Mr T says when I serve up something new;
That was nice. But let’s not have it again Mrs T.
Yeah, so best leave the clever theories to the real philosophers cos you know philosophy is pretty confusing stuff. It’s like opening up (as I did recently) a “make your own gum shield”, looking for the instructions and finding there isn’t any. Then after locating your glasses ( which you discover after 10 mins were actually on your head) you check there isn’t any very small printed instructions you can’t see only to discover it reads instructions on accompanying Cd.
Yep, so me and the Cd made the gum shield together. Ahhh…. how sweet is that?! (Oh – and also with the cooperation of Master Jacob’s mouth.) Gez what next..a Cd to help me vacuum?
Turn on the button Mrs T. No you should have it on at the plug first…That’s right Mrs T. Start to push the cleaner around the room. No, don’t miss out the rug. No Mrs T. Please do the rug.That’s better..now let’s do the stairs together…. now get down on your knees and let’s do a really good job with my attachments….come on harder, harder! Oh that is so good Mrs T- you really know how to use an attachment……….what d’you say we do we the bedroom next…….
Anyway, back to philosophy. Now I know about philosophy. (Well when I say “know” I mean I “know” the word – I don’t actually understand it.) Now I “know” about philosophy because apparently I studied it at university, alongside history. Well that’s what it says on my certificate. Although you could be forgiven for not thinking I’d ever even heard of the word…. come on, I’m not exactly Martin Amis am I?
Yes, you’ve guessed it – Martin Amis is my new nemesis – move over Tom Cruise and Ashton Kutcher. Let’s have an intellectual nemesis! I mean, how many jokes can you make about Ashton Kutcher and his cushion collection? Although, I admit, there are a lot of jokes to be made about Dear Tom – hey it’s not his fault when the bogey man appeared in his bedroom when he was a toddler and told him to cut off his legs or he’d grow into a giant he believed him. After all, we all know Tom believes in little green men.
Whoops got sidetracked again… so anyway at university we studied religious and moral philosophy and metaphysics. Well, when I say “we” I mean everyone else studied metaphysics whilst I read Cosmo under the table with cotton wool stuck in my ears. I’ll never forget though the lecture on The meaning of the word “chair.” (That was one of the times I’d forgotten my cotton wool and after I put the ban on Cosmo for being ludicrous tripe.)
You know I thought a chair was just a chair. With 4 legs. And a seat. You know that kinda stuff – a place to park my butt when I don’t feel like standing or I want to eat my dinner or when I want to hang out in front of the TV and oggle George Clooney in a repeat of ER. Now sometimes chairs come in plastic but mostly in wood. I particularly like oak chairs myself but if you’re really trendy you can have one in metal with 3 legs which is called a stool. It’s like a poor relation to the chair but does the same job. Sort of. But if it’s a really really cheap stool you may get backache because there’s no back support. (There’s always a catch to something cheap isn’t there?) Now chairs are, on the whole, pretty good things unless they come from IKEA where they can be so low to ground you have to be Tom Cruise to sit in them. Or Martin Amis – who( unsurprisingly perhaps) is also small. Hmm… now what is it that attracts me to small men when I married a six footer? I’m not sure…. maybe it’s because I like shoes?
By the way, did you know Adolf Hitler was only 5 ft 8? I bet he had a big shoe collection. Bigger than Tom’s. And those boots… pretty kinky eh?
Anyway..chairs. Apparently they might not be actual “chairs”. In fact, chairs may not even exist. Or they may exist but when you die they cease to exist because they only existed in your mind. Or maybe you have actually been faking sitting down? Maybe you haven’t sat down at all – you were just bent over looking for marbles. Or maybe your mind isn’t actually real and chairs are a manifestation of a supreme being with 4 legs who wears a tartan throw-over? Or maybe you’re going out of your mind? Maybe you weren’t even in your mind or on a chair in the first place? Or maybe…maybe… you aren’t real at all? Oh yes indeed. Maybe your mind is, in fact, a vacuum of non existential gobbledygook existing in a space/time continuum?
Maybe the Time Lords were right after all.
Yes, that’s it! The answer is with The Time Lords! Because why, why, why does The Doctor always stand and never sit in his tardis? Why hasn’t he got a chair? You know why? Because I’m thinking chairs actually never existed or if they did exist they were so evil, so cruel, so deadly that they were trapped in the gap between the first and second dimensions by the Time Lords and a fleet of marauding bean bags……
Right, so what I’m saying is philosophy is confusing stuff, especially metaphysics. I haven’t got a chance in hell of understanding it. Do you know we even had some weird set of cards with funny signs and squiggles on them in my philosophy class. We were supposed to do something with them that would make us understand philosophy. I’m not sure exactly what though. Personally, I thought the lecturer was a covert recruiter for the Christian Scientists. I dunno, anyway I filed my pack in the bin. I expect the more trendy folks used theirs to cut their coke. That’s me, always missing out on the fun.
Well that’s it for today. I was going to talk about Judgement Day and get real philosophical about it all. But the truth is I don’t understand it. It’s all way way above my intellectual level. Although I will just say one thing about Judgement Day…
Darn good film. Arnie at his best. Love him to bits.
Now that’s my kind of philosophy!
6 responses
Well hello agin JT, it's been such a long time. Glad to see you are still as brilliant and irreverent as ever. How the blooming heck are you my dear?
Ah Hitler, yes. You know, Hitler was really proud of his German Shepherd mutt called Blondi (she later formed a band I believe in the punk era when my hair was stand uppish and held in place by dried soap). He put many hours into training her, and would halt important meetings with top generals to practice her tricks. Those clever generals soon realized that if Blondi was happy and content, Hitler was in a better mood, and more likely to take their advice. If she did poorly, he would become sullen and stubborn
My wife has a similar ploy when she is after a new pair of shoes or a handbag, only imagine my genitals as Blondi…. But I digress.
As for Arnie baby, I am a huge fan and sad that he's now a politician instead of picking up nine millimetre machine guns and kicking ass! 'End of days' was a fave of mine. Anyway, take care and as Arnie says, 'I'll be back'…. he also says, 'I need your shoes, your clothes and your motorcycle'…. but that didn't seem appropriate.
Toodle pip.
Well hello me old mate Floogie!
Ah tis good to see you again;) I am fine thank you- still churning out complete gibberish. One day I might write something sensible – but I wouldn't put odds on it!
Now, I'm confused.. are you saying your wife "trains" your genitals in exchange for material wares?! Cripes, I'm shuddering at the very thought!
Arnie films are the best aren't they? Can't wait to see him back in action when he's done with this flirtation with politics:))
By the way..I trust you only used the dried soap on your head- my imagination is pretty strong you know and at the moment I'm feeling pretty queasy!
Your brain was really working overtime today wasn't it?! Good post.
Thanks for the compliment Fran but the truth is I forgot my tranquilizers:))
I mustcome clean JT, there is a golden rule in life you see that says "When a man is hard, he's soft…. and when he's soft, he's hard….". And by the blood of Thor my wife has got that rule down to a fine art if you follow my lead. Me genitals are like putty in her hands so to speak, when she's after a new item of day wear!
Oh those simple days of punk rock when Johnny rotten was the guvnor and Debbie Harry featured in many of my dreams that were of a decidely moist nature. Acne was my bosom buddy and my spring awakening had yet to be.. well, sprung! The days when Thatcher ruled and there was still a 'Rule' in Rule Britannia. I used to use lifebuoy soap on my hait to make it stand up straight, and black mascara around the eyes.. us men were men back then, you know. Dropping coke in Stringfellows nightclub in broad daylight was nothing back then…. these days dropping the shopping bags is more common and my rebellious nature extends only as far as my bald head and failing eyesight will allow. Ah the glory days, I think I can remember them…. nurse, is it time for my medication yet?
Ah I see Floogie that Mrs Floogie has discovered the old adage;
"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach but the way to his wallet is through his genitals."
It's a saying close to my heart:)
Ah your soliquay brings fond memories of the other Mrs T and those way she kept those naughty little school boy MPs in check:) A credit to womanhood! I've modelled myself on her of course:)
Medication is great stuff – well that's what the Doc says every we see him:) Pity it doesn't make hair grow back though!