I have to learn to enjoy living in a state of negative capability.
"Oh, what is that devilish invention now?" you ask. It sounds pretty smart and high-tech, doesn't it?
"(...)that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts without any irritable reaching after fact & reason." (John Keats)
Except, I'm not a man. And I don't seem to be enjoying this state as for now. I'm also not a poet, so WHAT'S THE USE?!
I also don't know what to do with myself. I'm working on this silly project, but I have insanely short attention span. I watch films instead and try to draw inspiration from them. I mean, that's the official excuse. I don't know what the real reason behind it is, actually. But c'mon, how long can you keep staring at your own hand before you lose your plot completely?
By far I watched Big Lebowski, Fargo, Intolerable Cruelty, A Serious Man and Burn After Reading. About to watch Ladykillers. Any suggestions which Coen movie I should watch next are much welcome, as long as it's not overly dramatic and/or serious (i.e. No Country For Old Men is a no-no).
In other news, got a delivery from home, I don't know what will I do with all that food. I suppose, eat it.
"My lover's a carnivore; her body's an ivory casing"Somehow related, somehow not, but one of my favourite lines in a while.
Which gives me a smooth transition to a paragraph about the music I've been listening to for the past few days. Which is oddly enough, close to none. Basically, almost exclusively "Burn It All Down" by VHS or Beta, simply because of its delightful l'air de la destruction and general apocalyptic party themes. They also threw in some biblical references (bread and wine, to be more precise).
SPEAKING OF BIBLE. Mom is full of surprising ideas.
Skype convo transcript follows.
mom: Are there any churches where you live at all?
me: Probably, why?
mom: I thought maybe you could go for the Easter Mass.
me: And why would I do that?
mom: Dunno, I just thought it'd be nice.
me: Nice for whom?
mom: Oh come on, you wouldn't want to go?
me: Nah, it's not really my idea of weekend entertainment.
mom: Oh, you.
Funnily enough, she's not even a bible-bashing crazy catholic at all. But she'd sometimes half-jokingly say that stuff and it leaves me with a WTF expression on my face. Glad I didn't mention apostasy to her. I would probably go with it if I had time and nerves to deal with stupidass church pawns (who make it as hard as possible for anyone expressing their interest in leaving the church). I don't like being a virtual number in their statistics, which they can use to support their self-indulgence over how "powerful" and "widespread" their religion (read: cult) is. And it is a cult.
You're screwed from the very beginning, your parents have to christen you ASAP, because if you die and you weren't christened, you're going to limbo, which is actually part of hell. I mean, SCRATCH THAT, a few years ago they changed it and decided babies were no longer going to limbo if they died without christening. Yes, Da Pope decided limbo for babies was no more. Just like *snap* that. He woke up one day and went "Hey, those babies, maybe let's not send them to limbo". And He saw that it was Good. But I digress. Let's say you were born before that. Therefore, you were christened as soon as possible. Then you went to school, where R.E. (Religious Education, which should be renamed to "Catholic Indoctrination", if you ask me, cause not one word is being said about any other religions) is a regular scheduled class. TWICE a week, through primary, middle and high school. Is it compulsory? Well, no. In theory. In theory, you can choose between R.E. and Ethics. Interestingly enough, I don't know a single school that HAD Ethics class. And by the way, your parents have to write a letter to the principal if you're about to skip R.E. and you're not 18 yet. You think YOUR parents would do that? Think again. The "what will the people say?!" argument kicks in and you HAVE to go to that damn class and sit through all the bullshit. Ok, so you go to school and you're 9 and you have that first communion stuff going on (once again, nobody asks you if you want it, everyone else does it, so you have to do it as well). They say it makes you a "full member" (I guess it's like premium membership then) of church and you're allowed to snack on Jesus' flesh, which is kind of gross, but honestly, kids don't care about anything more than a mini-wedding white dress they're about to wear that day. Fast forward to being 15, and by that age, you're kind of on a way to self-discovery and you're not afraid to express your own mind. And at that time, there's a little farce called "confirmation". And then you say "HELL NO, I'm not going through with THAT now, I don't believe in it!", but you know you're screwed because you're mother gets all teary-eyed and practically begs you. "Please, do it for me, do it for grandparents, you can do whatever you want after that, you don't ever need to go to church again, just do this one last thing". What's there to do? You agree. So you choose the third name (which, btw, you're not supposed to reveal to anyone after the act of confirmation, because it can be used to put a CURSE on you, that's right, a CURSE, witch hunt is still alive, so it seems). Deed is done. Skip to the last year of school when you're 18 and you can finally decide for yourself if you want to attend that pityful R.E. or not. You choose not to. Classmates start acting weird. Some "pagan" insults are being thrown occasionally. You find it hilarious and ponder loudly about building a totem in your garden to worship the Sun. Or you pretend you're a monkey in a canteen after someone calls you a "circus freak who doesn't believe in GOD" behind your back. That's what I did and damn, didn't I have lots of fun while doing that, just to upset those hypocritical, narrow-minded, backwards, and uberly annoying pseudo-catholic kids, who love to throw their faith around and have zero morality whatsoever in real life.
Hey, I'm a good person because I WANT to be and not because some dude in a dress told me to and I'm scared of being burnt for the eternity if I do no good.
Oh by the way, am I by any means worse than a priest who wrote "1" (equivalent of "F" grade), in black ink, on my best friend's forehead when we were 6 years old, simply because my friend had ADHD and he just couldn't sit still for 45 minutes? See, I don't remember EVER making any child cry their eyes out, so I daresay I'm above that.
Metaphor of the day: Captain Obvious and Colonel Bullshit like to go hand in hand.
0 comments:
Post a Comment