Nov. 4th, 2006

johnny9fingers: (Sri Yantra)
LJ goes down, I'm without my fix. If I were only more non-rational about things I could imagine it to be a conspiracy to deprive me of my particular pleasures. Being rational, however, I know I'm in the waiting room phase of life.
Still to come:
Colostomy
Prostate problems
Impotence
Zimmer frame
Altzheimer's
Parkinson's
Increasing myopia and then darkness
Cardiac Arrythmia

All avoided so far.
Still hetrosexual despite aversion therapy (Women...ARgh...Women...Arghh! dumbstruck by a combination of anger and confusion our hero beats himself about head with clicky ba' resulting in the normal concussion experienced by having anything emotional to do with the enemy gender - I know what they've done to me in the past, so I might as well beat myself up first, at least I'll be on the winning side.)

I still wonder why women prefer thugs to gentlemen. One forgets just what a turn off manners and courtesy are to the modern woman, or at least the modern women who, for some unknown reasons, I find attractive. My chum Hazel reckons its all self-selecting - I choose the mad ones because I need something to complain about, or in some unexplained way, the madness is the sexy bit. I'm beginning to dislike my subconscious in the same way that one begins to dislike a drinking companion who, though good fun, leads one into increasingly embarassing situations, like attending a society wedding with Courtney Love as one's date. 'Wax my anus', indeed. (Represses slight shudder - can you actually imagine shouting that to your PA down a busy London street? I know rock'n'roll folk are meant to be a bit OTT, but couldn't she just be a bit more tasteful, like Keef for instance.)

The Old Man's a bit weak today. He has spent lots of it in bed. Finishing up his 4th bout of Chemo, and right at the nadir of the cycle. Mother has local ward meetings and selection committee stuff to do and I have to be about for Dad until our sitting MP has been reselected or not. Doesn't affect me - I resigned from the Party over the war, so I don't get a say anymore - perhaps impotence has come earlier than I anticipated.

Again lifted by news from across the pond. Think the US will get its act together and do something about present situation. I have faith that now many of the issues are being openly discussed, spin will count less in forming the US electorate's opinions - even Fox News got a visit from R Murdoch (prop). Will not expect Volte Face from Fox, but if Roops is agin the war and the Republican position, then its bye-bye both houses, hello lame duck President.

My family have fought in the military for a very long time. One member was (famously) Wellington's ADC at Waterloo. One (a member of the British Upper house) died at the Somme. Both my Father and his elder brother fought during WWII, my uncle being mentioned in dispatches for work behind the lines in what is now called Iraq - he lost the sight in one eye and was physically broken by the ordeal. My brother and I are the first generation not to have served their country in over 200 years, and I used to wonder if I should have continued with a family tradition. Feel v.glad I didn't. I think it's different with conscription and von Clauswitz's concept of total war, or defensive war.
Which is of course why in any contest between defensive war, which is Athene's province, and invasion or aggressive war, which is Ares': Athene almost always wins...eventually.
johnny9fingers: (Sri Yantra)
Bleeding glamorous ex telephoned. Will not be able to make birthday party in studio. Apologises. Plane back to Senegal departs on 14th. Has offered me her 12 string to look after (one of the few things in this world that I actually covet - some peace offering, perhaps she knows me too well).
I suppose she has a good heart. So shall accept and try not to be at all sniffy. I am sure, however, that I have at least equalled her in kindness and good manners, and ergo am strangely comforted. No doubt I shall have to ask if she needs driving to Heathrow with all her goods and chattels, and will be in jolly mood even if strained to point of hernia. However, when I return home will no doubt spend two hours swearing at TV, or re-reading Catullus. Odi et amo indeed.
Reminds me of a poem 'what I wrote' about affair with inappropriate woman some years previous, filthy and not entirely appropriate, but sums up mood: however Glamorous recent ex's sins are somewhat different (as I suppose are mine at present). If you are under 18 and/or not familiar with Catullus's oeuvre, I'd advise you not to read on (because either it's very dirty indeed, or you're so incredibly jaded it smacks of old school solipsism).


If Lesbia were Clodia, I would be Gaius Valerius Catullus.

Even your spit is more poisonous
Than strychnine, and as addictive
As heroin. I wouldn’t trust your word
To hang a man; provide an alibi;
Or determine who’s the father of your children.
But then, Clodia, who listens to a word you say:
I look and salivate instead,
And dream of you, wanton, on my bed:
Piss-flaps spread, arsehole pouting,
Your spittle bathing my prick,
As you beg for a routing
Or some other magical trick.

Fat chance,
I think this someone else’s dance.

JB
15.03.01



The stuff we do for moral advantage (and to save face).

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