Orientation for life

Orientation for life

When I was younger, I was very much afraid of rattlesnakes and quicksand.  Luckily, I grew up in south Wales so the chance of seeing either was low.  Nevertheless, the fear I experienced was real and was possibly due to staying up late on Saturday nights watching inappropriate films for children.  At least that explains the rattlesnakes.  The quicksand, on the other hand, must have come from watching Tarzan.

Do you remember those 1970s American films they used to show on TV on Saturday nights? 

The film would start off slowly, and then some guy in aviators and a rain mac would start following our protagonist around the city.  Sometimes he would slip envelopes under doors or listen to phone conversations with a tissue over the mouth-piece so that no one could hear him breathing.  Usually he would smoke, and drink whiskey and soda, but we never saw him eat, meet with friends or exercise. 

The background music would start quietly.  It would grow more hectic as the paranoia grew, reaching a chaotic climax of clarinets, cellos and discordant piano notes towards the end.  If there was a woman involved, she would have fabulous hair and shoes, but would be dead by the final credits if she had sex or showed interest in anything other than our main hero.

Everyone was terribly competent at opening apartment building doors with their credit cards, roll jumping out of moving cars and remembering complex clue details without writing anything down.  Dates and times were arranged and strictly kept to, lunches went half eaten and no one needed to go to work or phone in sick.  No one needed directions while driving. 

If the government of Ireland wanted to spy on me, they wouldn’t need to hire anyone.  They could just browse my social media where I have expressed all my thoughts, whims and fancies, every day for the past 15 years.  Everything is there:  my political opinions, food preferences, work details and holidays.  Even in lockdown I keep them informed of my whereabouts and my trips to the supermarkets, my walks in the parks and my yoga. 

The conspiracy theories of the 70s were so much better than the ones we have today.  Did Elvis kill JFK and then film the moon landing in Stanley Kubrick’s studio?  The fact there was never any evidence to support these theories was evidence itself of the cover up, which led to a delightful proliferation of Catch22s and chickens and eggs.  The best thing about the conspiracies back then, of course, was that people believed in the moon landing hoax, but also that you could send letters in paper envelopes safely and have private conversations on public telephones. 

Bless.

Virus related conspiracies are dull in comparison with what’s going on in public life and seem quite ordinary when put side by side.  The current President of America believes the election was a hoax; the Prime Minister of the UK has recently sacked his Head of Propaganda (but no one believes him); and the Tánaiste of Ireland (who everyone, including the Taoiseach, is still calling Taoiseach), is hand delivering confidential documents to all of his friends.  Sadly, the motives for all this are also very dull.  They are doing it for the money.  That’s all.  I don’t know how many yachts they need to make them happy, but they are only doing it for greed. 

I can’t wait until we’re post-capitalism, post-politics and post-government as life is going to be much lovelier.  Then we will be able to concentrate on much more interesting conspiracy theories such as, do we exist, is music just in our mind and is time linear?  Are molecules real and what happens outside outer space?  How did the dinosaurs really die out and did the Palace kill Diana?  So many more vastly interesting things to contemplate rather than the wealth of the rattlesnakes of politics who are making us all suffocate in their grubby, dirty quicksand. 

I know some of you have had a slumpy week. 

It’s not easy, all this.

It’s actually quite hard, which is why I wrote you another poem and I hope you enjoy it, and that it cheers you up.  Remember it’s November, so wrap up well and be kind to yourself.  Stay indoors and drink warm drinks and be gentle with your mind.  However, if you do see a man in aviators and a rain mac following you around, try and loose him at the corner of 5^th and call me, and let me know!

Orientation for Life

Orientation for Life

is in room 274

Irredeemable Love is in the main hall.

Due to high demand

The Epicureans and Dreamers practical exam

is happening on the roof

Devil May Care (for beginners)

is in the music room

Evergreens for transitions

Has been cancelled altogether, while

Umbrella Maintenance

is in French

Finally, the how to build an igloo course,

You’ll all be pleased to know,

is taking place online.