Fuck The World?!?

This text is written from the heart and from the emotions, and may contain words or phrases that you might find displeasurable or vulgar. If you do not wish to view such things, please stop reading this document now.

I preview my incoming mail in a text editor, so if there is nothing of particular interest, I will not debatch it right then.

Earlier today, I caught the following in the incoming mail:

#! rmail 951
Return-path: 
Envelope-to: xxxxxxxxheyrick.co.uk
Delivery-date: Thu, 21 Mar 2002 08:02:23 +0000
Received: from httpd by cool.coolfactor.org with local (Exim 3.03 #1)
	id 16nxWh-0003pi-00
	for xxxxxxxx[at]heyrick.co.uk; Thu, 21 Mar 2002 08:02:23 +0000
To: xxxxxxxx[at]heyrick.co.uk
Subject: ummm....
Sent-From: RickMail script at www.heyrick.co.uk
From: me@[...]lfactor.org
Message-Id: 
Sender: Web Server 
Date: Thu, 21 Mar 2002 08:02:23 +0000
X-UIDL: 4303d2ac03c075227291e4fcd78dd080
Status: U

hey. i dont want to worry you but i am seriously scared for your sons mental he
alth. i am a doctor and after examining his web page i have come to the conclus
ion that he needs help. and fast before it is too late and he ends up being hos
pitalised because of his conditions. if you have any questions please e-mail me
 at idontlikethedrugsbutthedrugslikeme[...]@hotmail.com 

At first I thought bugger it, probably some 'scare spam'. I've had that recently, ranging from safety warning about the sexual toy you bought at amazon (isn't Amazon a book/dvd/cd/video store?) to something obscure about some sort of braking system on a Japanese car that apparently doesn't exist.

Then I read it again. It was posted from my 'write me a message' script. Our nice 'Doctor' friend here put in his identity as 'me' (the server adds the coolfactor.org bit automatically if the identity doesn't appear to be an email address.
Notice no name is given.
Notice also that the email address given is idontlikethedrugsbutthedrugslikeme. Guess what, I don't like the drugs (but the drugs like me) is a Marilyn Manson song. Oh yes.

Now, far be it from me to lower myself to mailing back this person about why he thinks it is a 'good' thing to pretend to be something he isn't (doctor - my ass) to try to scare my mother.
Uh-uh.
My mother... I'm sure she might be shocked at some of the shit on this site (like the language on this page?), but she's a believer in free speech.
It is a valuable lesson she taught me. People are entitled to their opinions. Even if you think their opinions are a crock and are utter gibberish, hey, dude, they might think the same about your opinions.

And so we progress. People have, in the past, been shocked about some of the stuff I say. The whole thing about the dead bodies on my 'about me' page. That's a good one. People either find it hysterical, or it really pisses 'em off.
The basic premise behind it, and why I wrote it, is you simply cannot judge a book by it's cover. I guess I should say that on the page, but I refuse to. If you get so tied up in the details about burying bodies, you need your god-damned head examined. Doesn't it speak volumes that my concern at the end of the paragraph is all the paperwork over insurance claims for the gardens that would need to be flattened to get the hotwired JCB into the back garden? Or the various digs at 'hooray henry's? Was the piss-take not waving a florescent MAGENTA frigging sign at you?

Sure, I have a morbid sense of humour. Is that a crime?
Also, I openly accept death. Death is something that will take every single person, creature, and bug... not 'that i know', but everyone, everything, everwhere.
So I accept death. I ain't gonna run from it, and it certainly isn't a taboo.
You know, some cultures dress up pretty and have parties when a person croaks it. Us? We dress in black (my favourite colour!) and we wail, howl, and cry. And have stupid church services where we say all sorts of shit that we'd never consider saying to the person if they were alive.

Then we get on to some of the other stuff here. I guess it is everybodies dream to be the sane one in a fucked up world. Well, I don't consider myself 100% sane (define sanity, define normal), but it doesn't take a genius to tell you the world is fucked.

Want examples? Okay, right now, as I write, BBC Teletext, page 102 (news headlines):

• Four dead, 60 hurt in suicide blast (p104)
• Poverty "fuelling world terrorism" (p107)
• Mobile phone thieves shoot man, 19 (p119)
• MPs give themselves 13.5% pay rise (p121)
• In-car mobiles "worse than alcohol" (p122)

Is today a bad day? Yesterday, police named the woman whose burnt body was found in a park. Tomorrow, some schoolkid will probably turn up dead. Dotcoms, hell, even 'respectable' companies are crashing.
The older generation had the assassination of JFK.
We got the maybe-assassination of Princess Diana as a contender, swept away by the stark reality of across-the-board programme interruptions so we can watch a plane full of people smash into a building full of people. Ever wanted to know what those daft sci-fi movies would be like if somebody actually did that, like, for real? Well, shit. Now we know. And, yet, we are supposed to be happy shining people. And we get America wittering on about rogue states and dropping bombs on whoever they think today's enemy is. We get stupid fucking Americans boycotting French goods (cf. CNN) because France is one of the few countries who stands in the way of NATO allowing the US to "bomb the bastards". Maybe the people running France and Germany remember WW2 and don't want to see the same thing happen again. The Americans? One spectacular terrorist act and they'll all piss their pants and demand full and complete 'threat assessment' of everybody buying an airline ticket. For fuck's sake!
Oh, yes, if you're an American, feel free to classify me as "Anti-American". Not that I have anything against Americans in general, I just think this world might be a better place if the entire Bush family, like, got food poisoning and died. Oh, and that Rumpelstiltsken bloke too.
But, you know, Saddam. An aging dictator. Maybe he's a wacko and maybe he's a psycho. But, you know what? Right now I trust him more than I trust Bush.
But, enough banging on Bush. What about Tony-I'm-A-Dickhead-And-I-Don't-Even-Know-It-Blair's so-called "compelling evidence". Yeah. Right.

Anyway, the point is... This world is screwed up. This world makes no sense. As every day passes, I think less and less that I would want the guilt of creating a child that will have to live in this world. I once used to wish I was young again, but these days I think I'm glad I'm old enough to realise how messed up things really are.

So part of my way of dealing with this is to make fun of it. Have you any better suggestions?

Oh, wait. Shit. I forgot. My mental health. It's bad, apparently. I might soon end up in hospital, apparently. Doctor says so, apparently.

I think the only way to cure me is, actually, what he suggests. Admit me to hospital and pump me so full of morphine that I cannot tell the difference between the cute Irish nurse attending me and Lala the Tellytubby.
Because world peace? Ain't gonna happen.
Even if Ireland and England found a suitable and amicable way to resolve their problems, and Christians and Muslims work out their differences, and the Palestinians and Israelis come to a solid truce; some dumb bastard will only go and start another war. In the '90s, look how quickly Saddam Hussein was mediafied into the devil incarnate. And, well, Osama Bin Laden didn't need any media massage to convince the world that he's a shit. But, he's a shit we just can't find, so let's pick on some other evil-muslim-guy-we-don't-like. Like, say, Saddam. A-fucking-gain. Yawn.

But, like, these people pop up from nowhere. What makes you think that when peace reigns on earth, that it would last, like, even a day?

So, for feeling jaded and disillusioned, I have my mental health called into question.

For thinking most of the politicians are tossers, I am considered an anarchist, nihilist. I am not subservient. I believe the basic premise that politicians exist in order to coagulate public opinion into some sort of framework for running this country. We cannot all run the country, it would be a beaurocratic cock-up the likes of which simply cannot be imagined. So in each area, we choose people who will take on the job of representing our views, our opinions. Why is it then, that the politicians seem to be a self-serving double-dealing bunch of criminals-by-any-other-definition?
Where did it all go wrong? Where did democracy become "if you don't agree, we'll squeeze you until you do".

Then we get to part of our 'doctor's email address, "idontlikethedrugsbutthedrugslikeme". What is this saying exactly? It is easy to jump to conclusions that he is inferring that I am some sort of drug user. Well, sorry. About the only drug I touch is tea and coffee (well, caffeine, same difference). At least I know that caffeine is a stimulant. I'm not like those droves of cigarette smokers that refuse to admit that they are addicted to nicotine. A drug. They are drug addicts, just like those who smoke Cannabis. But, well, one is 'accepted' and 'sanctioned', the other isn't. But that doesn't make it 'okay'.

You know, maybe my life would be improved a little if I smoked dope. Rolled the weed and toked every timed I felt blue.
But, hey, this world sucks. So why not try a little Valley Girl too? Then move on to Angel Dust to make it all better. Qualudes on the side.
But the world will keep on sucking as I'm altering me, not the world.
So then I will be obliged to sniff that white powder. After all, there are all these reports made up by the people against the legalization of cannabis which state direct paths from starting with weed and finishing up doing coccaine (somehow they seem to miss the bloody obvious - the people who are the source of the drug, and their incentives to push you on to harder and more profitable drugs, but I digress). Line it up with a razor blade, block one nostril, and sniff it up with the other nostril. Big deep breaths. I've seen it often enough in movies (try practically any David Lynch movie).

Then we reach our checkmate. There is nothing stronger. Nothing can mask the pain. Nothing can hide the fear. And the world still sucks. 'cos I changed me, not the world. So what option is left to a scared, paranoid loser hooked on an expensive degenerative habit?
Simple, grab a nice S&W and blow my friggin' brains out.

Happy story, huh?
Just what the kids need for Show'n'Tell, huh? A nice happy turn-of-the-millennium story of how we got the world fixed up right.

Or... Why not simply accept that the world sucks, ridicule it every so often, and be true to yourself.
So the world sucks.
Big fucking deal.
It doesn't suck for you alone. The world didn't roll over one day and think "I hate <insert your name here>". It sucks all round, for everybody. Even the rich, who have shitloads of insecurities brought about by their money. Even the famous, who often have to take the time to remind the media what the word 'privacy' means, while showing their lives to the very same media in order to promote themselves and make themselves wealtier (Catherine ZJ - grow up!!!).
The starving victims of drought, to the media moguls. But are they happy?

You know, I go through the ups and downs. I get times when I want to dump Nickelback, Rammstein, and (god help me) Nirvana into the CD player, crank the volume up, and blow the bloody windows out.
But, by and large, on the global scale, I'm happy.
We always remember the downs more than we remember the ups.
But I'm happy.
I have a job. It ain't the best, but it is interesting.
I have a loving parent.
I am alive, today. Tomorrow? Well, that's then.

And because I accept these things. The world is unbridled madness, it sucks, and I'm going to die. No shit, really?

There we have it. All the fears and paranoias dealt with. So maybe I have depression and anxiety from the trivialities of day to day life, but I don't have The Big Fear.
Maybe I over-analyse things? Maybe. But at least I'm forming an opinion instead of just going along with the crowd.
Oddly enough, I don't find a use for religion as a crutch to aid me in coping with the world.
It's a done deal, really. I've sussed it. Now all I gotta do is live in it until I myself get crusty, then croak, then get my dead body carted to some stupid church service where a bunch of people I barely know will say some bollocks like "He was a quiet person, kept to himself"...

Either way, you can't really take it that seriously.
Because that way leads to drug abuse and madness.
Well, either that or you transmogrify into a chartered accountant.

Dear Doctor...
Maybe you've read this. Maybe you're pissed that I posted your message. Maybe I'm pissed you sent it.

I'm not going to ask for explanations, or what you think my problem is.
You said "i am seriously scared for your sons mental health". Well, this article has explained a little bit about the way I feel in a frank and brutally honest manner.

So, my friend, 'fess up. What do you suggest my remedy should be? I am a bright and alert person whose problem is not substance abuse (of any form - I don't even smoke). I do, as I said, think the world sucks, and it is madness.

Got a medicine for that, huh, Doctor?
Got something that will make the flowers glow and all the badness go away, huh, Doctor?

Mail me.

That's open to anybody. If you actually bothered to read to the end here, you've probably got some sort of opinion. Mail me. Go on...

It is not my habit to edit my work, to sanitise it. These are my thoughts, dammit, and I'm going to share them as I think them. To try to correct them to suit some screwed up idea of political correctness will not do any of us any favours, because then I'd just turn into the two-faced lying sort of shit that I hate in a person.

My thoughts may be invalid, or plain wrong. I stand by them, and in the face of reason I am perfectly willing to retract stuff and post corrections and apologies, as necessary.
If you are an employer reading this and are getting a bit worried about what sort of freak you have working for you, then consider my bluntness. And consider my plain no-nensense approach. Would you rather have an employee that you know where you stand with him, or a nice quiet type that is only too willing to stab you in the back?

I don't do back-stabbing. Chicken shits do that.
If I got issues, I raise 'em. :-)