If
there's one thing I hate more than Hitler and impromptu knee
surgery, it's people who make TV programmes about children. Jeez
guys, you're as transparent as a really see-through bit of glass;
just go to a therapist, eh? You're fooling no-one but slightly
dum people, and they're no fun to fool once you've made them
drink something that they shouldn't. We all know who the
above-average child is in your little paean to lost youth and
misunderstanding, and to anyone who knew you, your choice of
pubescent actress to play the immature love interest is both
scary and insightful (in that order).
You
think that just cos you get to make TV programmes, you get to
change history? Well you might to most people, but we remember.
Is that really how you saw yourself? Don't go hiding behind that
fiction label; we knew you, and that means a lot more than
knowing you ...and you know it. Above average? Cshh. You weren't
that above average. 51 is above average, sorta, depending on how
you do it. Above average is just an indication of minor
improvement on mediocrity. Above average is only used by parents,
and then when they reach positions of usurped power, people
working on shows about children. Real people don't use above
average; real people allow themselves to live independently of
the influences of others. Or to put it another way, real people
are average, with no reference points. Some will use themselves
as the reference point for the rest of humanity, and although
they are above average in the unscumly ranking list, they're
still more scumly than others. Float like a turd in the toilet
bowl of life, before being dragged down by the cascading flush of
useless metaphors.
Fame
allows changing of the truth. (Is that what you mean by
contradictory? I'd define it as lazy, and not caring nor thinking
about what I'm saying). Treason is only a matter of dates. I
thought it was orange sauce, Your Honour. You want the truth? You
can't handle the truth. If we all told the truth for just one day
(apart from me), then life as we know it would cease to exist.
That's nobbad, but then again, it's noggood. Shit dude, who am I
to tell you to tell the truth? We all float, 'member? But if you
don't tell the truth, a) you're nasty b) you might burn in hell
if you believe in all that shit c) you're probably gonna get to
make a TV series about your childhood.
Y'see,
what they don't realise is that it doesn't actually change
anything where it matters. If you had a shitty childhood, yet
everyone thinks you had a great one where you were above average
and kissed some girl, then you still had a shitty childhood, and
you sure as sureshit didn't kiss no foxy gal. If you had a great
childhood, but display to the world a shitty childhood where you
were above average, and no-one understood you, least of all your
parents, who also rubbed ground glass into your eyeballs to stop
reading those book things (never trust anyone who goes out of
their way to tell you they read as a child, for a myriad of
reasons that don't deserve to be constrained to parentheses, and
by other punctuation), you still had a great childhood. Moreover,
any sympathy, or any emotional outpourings - positive or negative
- you receive from the masses and others you deem to be important
in validating your life is a sham. But I guess if you get sham
emotions, you deserve them. I love you.
And
if you don't get the chance to make a TV series of your life -
and let's face it, one or two of us are tied to long-term
contracts with NBC, and are forced to read the news in slightly
different ways each day as an outlet for our creativity (which
our evil, nasty parents did their best to stifle by chaining us
up to the toilet with only low grade DH Lawrence books to read,
instead of the Emily Dickinson for which we craved). Damnit, I
hate it when I fuck up sentences like that. What I meant to say
is, if you watch them and identify with them, you're equally
scumly, and you're lying to yourself more than a man with an
unseemly collection of rubber bands (it makes sense if you
think about it; I don't).
Umm..
I'm gonna stop now, cos I'm losing interest: I've already made a
blu-tack and pistachio shell model of Jesus, and I should
probably be thinking about making something to eat, what with it
being almost lunchtime an' all. Hope you enjoyed this attempted
return to form, and remember, I survive and thrive on your tips.