Monday 20 April 2020

Peak


I sometimes wonder how much more ridiculous
this life could get. Perhaps we’ve reached the peak of
absurdity already and I didn’t
notice. Is someone, somewhere, terrified
of toothpaste? Has the world of fashion finally
caved in and made a range called Emperor’s Clothes?
Did Spain elect a pomegranate for
its new Prime Minister? Has the Pope
declared himself to be an octopus?
I do not follow telly, so I wouldn’t know.
‘Hello, and welcome to Mindless TV.
Today we ask, “Is arson valid as
an artform?” and meet the man who says
that setting fire to other people’s houses
prevented him from following a life
of crime. We hear about a woman suing
her mum and dad for giving her a balanced
childhood. The alienation caused has been
disastrous to her mental health, she claims.
But first, it’s competition time, where you’ve
a chance to win The Royal Albert Hall.
Simply complete this sentence: “Life is worthless
because…” and tweet it on our twitter feed.
The most banal reply will win this marvellous,
iconic building, if hasn’t been
stolen, that is. And now, because it’s Daffodil
Remembrance Day, we have a moment’s silence to
remember all the daffodils who lost
their lives in conflicts old and new; and not
just daffodils, but every flowering species
who never found their way back home from war.
It’s over to Samantha now, who has the weather.
Samantha…’ Where is anyone supposed
to keep the weather? In their hands? Their pockets?
And have these people never heard of windows?
What effect do you think you have upon
this world? You watch your television and
the bad things vanish; post your eighty-seventh
denunciation of the Trump online
and suddenly he’s not a fool; preoccupy
yourself with things you can’t control, and waste
your life. There is no point to life, if all
you do is point. We’re all ridiculous.
We’re all the world and everything that’s in it,
and everything has long since been a game to show off
how perfect we all are. Don’t fool yourself.
The past person left the building long ago,
forgot to turn the lights out, and booby-trapped
existence. We’ve been paying for it ever since.
What do I mean? Really? It doesn’t matter.

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