Aren’t Careers advisers great?. I could have gone into that interview -having stopped on the way to butcher several small children, taken dangerous amounts of intravenous drugs in a bus shelter and pissed in a charity shop- confessed all to the man, and I still would have come out feeling all rosy and good about myself. I could have been Charles Manson, and the chap would still have said something like ‘you have great people skills’. Apparently I have ‘a fantastic academic record’, I ‘attend the best law school in the country’ and I managed to get an interview without having worked in a law firm, which shows that I have ‘great commercial experience’. We shall leave aside for a moment, the fact that I am a bit of a twat. The main thing I was told, is that for the purposes of job-hunting in the immediate future, I must cease to be the Humphrey Clarke we all know and loathe. I shall become a career focused professional, my life planned out with Prussian precision and my C.V brimming with invented positions of responsibility and business ‘buzzwords’ like ‘portfolio’ and ‘focused’. Things like my chronic fear of using the telephone, my tendency to slack off and my lack of serious ambition can be swept under the carpet, I am the personification of ‘Business’ once again.
Television really has gone downhill recently. Upon turning on the ‘Devils Device’ a couple of nights back I was confronted with the spectacle of a naked pre-op transsexual, with oversized breasts and a giant wedding tackle. The next scene in the program showed the member being sliced apart by plastic surgeons. Lets look up ‘entertainment’ in the dictionary shall we. Entertainment ,‘Something that amuses, pleases, or diverts’, isn’t it stretching the definition a bit to call seeing someone’s fruit and veg being cut up entertainment?. What’s next, one wonders, celebrity autopsies?, abattoir game shows?, televised badger baiting?. Maybe I should become the next Mary Whitehouse, and pen a series of letters to Channel Five, expressing my ‘outrage’ and ‘indignation’, although that would probably make me the very defintion of a self-righteous prick.
As I look back over my former entries, I see that I have been a bit harsh on poor old John Paul II, I mean just because someone takes a contrary position to you doesn’t mean you should rejoice in their death. I suspect I was irritated by the sickening amount of adulation poured in his direction from most of the world’s media, I felt similarly peeved when Diana died and became the patron saint of dysfunctional women. Now we have a pope who holds the same views and is intent on following the same policies as John Paul, and yet he is being scorned because he isn’t very charismatic. If the last pope was so great then what’s wrong with a carbon copy. As I think I’ve said elsewhere, I never understood why the Catholic Church can’t preach abstinence and say that use of barrier contraceptives is ok. In my opinion, condoms actually promote abstinence because the infernal things are so hard to get on. By the time you’ve extracted the instrument from its impregnable packaging and rolled it on, you have usually lost your erection, your dignity and, worst of all, the intended recipient has lost all interest. This is not only incredibly irritating but pretty sound theologically I’d imagine. Besides, casting my mind back to my Religious Instruction lessons, Onan’s sin appears to have been his failure to conduct the levirate, not the coitus interruptus. It seems ludicrous to be preaching abstinence to the Africans, a large number of whom are in the habit of walking round in not very much at all if the pseudo-pornographic National Geographic is anything to go by.
My dad sent me to this Catholic School to put me off religion, and I found that most of their doctrines were unsound. During a classroom discussion we were informed by my R.I teacher (pictured below) that the theory of evolution was completely wrong. ‘But sir’, I piped up, ‘Its in all the scientific text books’. ‘Completely wrong’ the teacher sagely replied, ‘I mean if you took a squirrel and threw it in the ocean, then it wouldn’t just suddenly evolve gills and swim away would it’.
His argument was brilliant. To this day I get amusing images in my head of him standing on a boat and chucking squirrels in the sea to see if Darwin was really right. Being an atheist makes more sense to me. All you have to do is mock other peoples superstition, make belated comments occasionally about ‘believing in something’ to make you feel better about your steadily ebbing mortality, and then, miraculously find Jesus on your deathbed. Halleluiah.
I finally got to see the new series of Doctor Who last week and was horrified to discover it was full of flatulent aliens. Does anyone else find fart jokes chronically unfunny?. Maybe years of boarding school where I was perennially held down and farted on, have conditioned me to be un-amused by this form of humour. The expulsion of stomach gas from the rectal cavity, followed by an irritating noise, comic genius.