There are a lot of things that annoy me, I think I'd make a great candidate for the premature special of 'Grumpy Old Men', may be I would even make the best candidate.
In fact I think even I could teach Bob Geldoff or Jeremy Clarkson a thing or three about finding everything around them pretty contemptible.
1) Myself Three Years Ago:
Seriously? What was I thinking?
I was blessed with an atypical gloomy teenage outlook which was further exasperated by my emo fringe and black clothes. I was selfish, stupid, irresponsible, poor, studenty, annoying and had a disturbing pre occupation with facial hair.
What scares me more is that I'm only starting to realise it now. What will I think of me in ten years time? Will I look back to find memories of a charming, debonair, thoughtful, driven all round good guy? I hope so. No I believe so. Which probably means I'm wrong. Right?
Given that I've taken crawling in the traffic on a day to day basis, I tend to notice those yellow shirted men a lot more. Oh how they make me want to kill babies when I move over and they don't thank me, next time I'm just going to open my door on them. I swear I will.
Sometimes, when I'm having a pleasant 702 listening session dedicated to the antics of the stock market, a man in a Harley will drive/ride past my silver car. Predictably I will have the window open and predictably the noise of its bastard child tractor engine with hosepipe attached will blow me away so severely that I will no longer be able to hear Mosioua Lekota explaining to the listeners why he left the ANC. This makes me sad, because reaching that space of relaxed relaxation during peak hour traffic is not easy and the onslaught of noise that is such as Satan Machine forces me to restart my 'traffic meditation process', and because I like Mosioua Lekota.
It's not philosophy as a subject that I have anything against. No. It's given me words like 'empirical' and 'hegemonic' to use in everyday conversation. This seems to impress people to which I generally have nothing to say and that's just wonderful.
No, it's not philosophy that's the problem. It's the philosophers.
To be a philosopher, as a rule, it seems as though you have to conjugate word groupings in such a way that even an English graduate (almost me) doesn't understand what's going on. These men and women are not purveyors of insight but rather word trapeze artists.
They make my brain ache so hard with upsettness and that makes me sad.
Thursday, October 16, 2008