It was Poe *porn*, I tell you.
Jan. 4th, 2008 11:37 am
It's virtually impossible to see everything. We all had different stories to tell afterwards. I'll relate some of mine, in random order.
At the Cenotaph
I saw the Prince of Darkness, with his Staff,
Standing bare-headed by the Cenotaph:
Unostentatious and respectful, there
He stood, and offered up the following prayer.
“Make them forget, O Lord, what this Memorial
Means; their discredited ideas revive;
Breed new belief that War is purgatorial
Proof of the pride and power of being alive;
Men’s biologic urge to readjust
The Map of Europe, Lord of Hosts, increase;
Lift up their hearts in large destructive lust;
And crown their heads with blind vindictive Peace.”
The Prince of Darkness to the Cenotaph
Bowed. As he walked away I heard him laugh.
--- Siegfried Sassoon
The Sellotape® Company (NZ) |
The boy, he is gone home. The girl, she is sad. Also vodka.
We had a good time until dad decided it was too much effort to be aloof, dismissive and plain rude for another two days and Put His Foot Down and told me Gabriel had to go. Then he Changed His Mind when it was too late to change Gabriel's travelling plans. Dad is now in Guilt Mode, hence why he's calling me 'sweetie' and buying me things I don't need.
Dad's away all weekend with a random woman called Sue. I have no idea who this person is, but I hear she knows all about Gabriel and I, and advises dad on how to deal with it. Bravo, Sue. Remind me to drive a tank over you someday.
Alas! Now there's no-one to watch Most Haunted with or speak Polish to. *insert great big unhappy face here*
However - housemates - I hear we're moving into Radishland soon. What's everyone planning to do?
I hate having an otherwise generally cheerful evening spoiled by idiot nations and thier idiot leaders with thier idiot wars.
I wish I was a superhero. I'd have the power to drop great big boulders on great big idiot nations. I'd film it and upload it to youtube so I could watch it again and again.
And I'd get away with it, too, seeming as dropping heavy objects on civilians is the new black.
What ever happened to Bird Flu? I was looking forward to a good old fashioned plague.
I wonder what age I'll be when true political apathy sets in.
I was so excited about my first vote. I went alone to the polling station in Cambridge, cackling to myself becuase I'd already been able to vote in Ipswich due to a clerical error. I'd been on protests beforehand, written obnoxious letters to Bush, Blair And Cronies, shouted at the TV and generally acted out like an angry teenager.
Don't get me wrong - I knew all politicians were bottom-feeding slime, and I had no party affiliation - but a few years ago I wanted to do some good in my tiny way.
Now there's just impotent frustration. I rarely watch the news anymore. Yelling "WHERE ARE THE SODDING SNIPERS?!" at the television isn't going to do much good. Even if we got rid of all these comfortable middle-aged men on the BBC, a new wave of comfortable middle-aged men would waddle in and take thier place.
Why am I writing this?
I hate war. As a Forces child, I grew up with war. "Where's daddy?" Iraq. "Where's daddy?" Bosnia. "What's he doing?" Minesweeping the Adriatic. "Why?"
I support troops becuase I know what it's like to sit at home waiting for someone to return. It's a far nobler profession than politics.
Some of you may have met my Uncle Ken. He's from Alabama. He came over here to marry my aunt and has lived here ever since. According to him, gay people, black people, conscientious objectors, 'lefties' and the like should be 'put against a wall and shot'. He uses those words. He loves Bush. Loves him like the kindred spirit he is. When I went on my first anti-war protest, he went ballistic: 'She's under 18, she can't have her own opinions yet, they don't teach politics in school' blah blah blah. He shouted, slammed doors and wouldn't speak to my family for a few weeks. Now that the war is, quote, 'over', he's full of remorse. The 'good guys', amazingly enough, are still being killed, and he just can't understand it. 'It's a Godawful state of affairs', he says, wearing his sickening little stars and stripes/union jack badge.
Of course, now that Israel are throwing a shit-fit, he's on top of the world again. 'If it wears a kaftan, kill it.' Yee-haw.
I have to wonder how many Uncle Kens there are in the world.
Why I'm ranting, I don't know. On a cheerful note, Sisters of Mercy are ever-so-jolly and it's only a matter of days until I meet the minx.