Monday, 21 November 2011

And Your Prejudice Won't Keep You Warm Tonight

Sometimes I wonder who it is that manages to persecute me so fiercely all the time without anybody but me ever noticing.

But then I consider my new hero Morrissey. The only thanks he gets for being the coolest person on earth is their adamant refusal to accept that under the hatred there lies a murderous desire for love, and how they look into his eyes and still they don't believe him, and how they hear him say those words and still they don't believe him, and if they don't believe him now will they ever believe him? Thing is, Morrissey is probably very much what I would be were I not full of shit. I suspect there's a kind of personality-trait constellation too many people are too stupid to be able to deal with for it to be a comfortable thing to carry around.

People too ignorant and vulgar to deserve being treated like grown-ups are trying very hard to create a public atmosphere that would make me ashamed of caring about the suffering of people towards whom they'd prefer me to be indifferent or hostile. It's insulting, and it's depressing, but somehow, it's not even remotely frightening. Possibly this is because it just hasn't gotten bad enough yet, but my feeling is that this whole current of political "delegitimisation" - a peculiarly Israeli preoccupation - doesn't sway me too much because I think myself a pretty convincing citizen. I don't seem to convince myself as much as a regular social person.


"You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does" - The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?"

If only I could muster that same kind of militant independence in dealing with complete tools saying incredibly stupid things directly to me or around me as well as with those passing laws against me, I'd probably be a much happier guy. But it's a much tougher argument to win in the first place. "I am human and I need to be loved" doesn't pack quite the same punch as "your infantile posturing jeopardises the freedom of us all and your irresponsible confrontationism could lead to unnecessary war and countless pointless deaths". It's an entirely different ballpark. I'm not saying "agree with me", or "let me participate" - I'm saying "love and respect me, you stupid shit." Why must you be so stupidly stupid in your stupidity?


"I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
But heaven knows I'm miserable now
I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
And heaven knows I'm miserable now

In my life
Why do I give valuable time
To people who don't care if I
Live or die?" - Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

I'd always really really really liked this chorus. It felt like an epiphany to realise I didn't have to care as much as I did - to devote as much of myself, and "smile/" in the words of the poet, "At people who I'd much rather / Kick in the eye." Many people probably wouldn't notice for very long your disappearance from this earth - a sad result of our living in the hyper-socialised, deeply-alienated group clusterfuck in which we do. But, it has occurred to me, there's more.

Even many of those who would prefer you breathing and with a pulse, would still like you as dead as possible within that physiological framework. You are best loved automated and conditioned into full basic predictability. Your feeling of self-fulfillment or silent desperate misery are by the by. I know I say this a lot, but I think I'll repeat it, to create a constant refrain in this blog: FUCK THEM.


"If you're wondering why 
All the love that you long for eludes you
And people are rude and crude to you
I'll tell you why
I'll tell you why
I'll tell you why
I'll tell you why

You just haven't earned it yet, baby
You just haven't earned it, son
You just haven't earned it yet, baby
You must suffer and cry for a longer time." - You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby

No, I'm not kidding. Someone or something is actively fighting my attempts to live a life I won't hate. I am wondering why. What's wrong with my way? What is it with people and their aversion to being human? Why do I need to be terrified of approaching life as anything other than a fancy dress party? Why does it feel like a disadvantage to approach a social situation not sufficiently dead inside?

It's like an army of zombies, trying to take everybody down with them. They need to be quarantined and gassed or something. Problem is, when you're in a room full of idiots, and they idiotically pronounce you deficient in some way or another, it is more or less undeflectable. I just really wish they'd cut it out, at least long enough for me to wade through the dead and find some of the living.


"Sheila take a, Sheila take a bow 
Boot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear
And don't go home tonight
Come out and find the one that you love and who loves you
The one that you love and who loves you." - Sheila Take a Bow

Probably a good start.