Has Media opened my mind to ignorance? A topical rant with no topical ending.

Woody Allen once said that mankind now stands at a crossroads; “One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly “ And are these two options really it? No I don’t think so…?. We have love, laughter, still an ounce of individualism, still an ounce of soul and real feeling that hasn't been ripped out our minds by television or raped by advertising, doing all of those things for us. Are we the humanoids that Howard Beale speaks of in Network?

And after feeling this, I ponder the question…is ignorance truly bliss? Have I cursed myself through asking why it isn't? By removing the glass ceiling, have we removed a glass floor that ultimately, was the only thing protecting us from the large gaping downward spiral into despair and self-loathing? Ironically i question my questioning with a series of questions. Because it's all i know. Am i happier for it? Well i don't know. It’s immeasurable. It is on a completely different scale to the happiness that you derive from a particularly funny episode of Frasier or a particularly good meal at an ego-masturbatingly pricey restaurant.

Again I’ll contradict myself, well in-fact, define myself by putting this question into the context of a film: The blue or the red pill...is it ignorance or bliss, or is it ignorance as bliss or else is it committing yourself to the unknowing. That’s the crux of it. Fear hides behind the guise of bliss. It's not ignorance if it's a knowing ignorance. I would only be deceiving myself, tricking myself into bliss. Doublethink? “Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom” says Bertrand Russell. My thought process works like books and films because my life experience is limited. But so is everyone’s or at least the majority. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe books and films have opened our minds to our own ignorance, as juxtaposed as it seems. But then everything comes with balance. I guess it’s the difference between watching Eastenders and Planet Earth.

But life will out. There is no such thing as just good or just evil. Balance? Time after time, I come full circle back to a 50/50. Once someone told be I either need to commit to one thing or another, never sit in the middle, looking both ways, because all you’ll get is a pain in the neck. The sentimental bastard. But maybe if I take a step back I can look at both. Take life as it happens, in the knowledge that it will.

Pressure

I considered pointing out the irony of the dj playing 'under pressure' after being heckled into last-song-submission, but i figured it would only turn a night of general social acceptance into one of indifference and one-eyebrow-raised glances.
A few sub standard cheesey pop songs earlier i had prayed for it to end, but in thier drunken excitement over dancing without caring they had decided to elongate my suffering.
'Please make it something that might replace my faith in music' i begged with any general ecclestial being that may or may not have existed within the immediate vicinity.
Clearly not. Queen and David Bowie seemed to be accounting the growing need for me to tell everyone what i really thought. But apathy prevailed over bitterness and i resolved myself to a quiet corner to contemplate Bowies better work and roll a cigarette.

Why i'm not bloody getting a job in Starbucks

Reasons i hate working in retail, bar work or restuarant work or any job that involves working directly with the public and thus deleting important pieces in the jigsaw of my soul are as follows.

A) You get paid pittance for working harder than, say, some dumb broad with a rich husband and a face like a bee chewing a wasp, has worked in her whole life, and probably work harder than the plastic surgeon has worked on her whole body. And then you have to serve this very woman. She sneers, i fume.

B) the general customer often feeds their dying senses of self and lack of decorum by treating you with more disgust and contempt than they would condeming a dog who's just taken a dump on their new victorian imitation rug. And then eaten it.

C) The general customer has the tendency to ask stupid questions and make unreasonable requests, for example
1) 'Can't you make my coffee any hotter? It was luke warm yesterday' (well if you do insist on sitting outside in the middle of winter to inhale a quick succession of Benson and Hedges, then be my guest)...at which point i'll turn the temperature on the steamer to 'fresh from an active volcano' and watch with sick pleasure as your leathery face contorts in pain. Ah, sweet sweet vengeance.
2) *clicks fingers* 'Can i have an expresso' (You're in a pub, and it's an espresso, but fine)
I make an odd expression as though thats exactly what they've asked for, which, effectively, they have. 'An espresso?' i say. 'an EXPRESSO' they repeat. Tits.
I'm being pedantic, but its not the presence of one incorrect letter, its the gall with which they assume they're right and i'm some half witted servant girl.

Not bitter at all. Never.
So yes, my reasoning for never wanting to work in Starbucks.
Instead i'll waste my time filling a blog with mindless self importance, dillusion and drivel.
ENJOY.

Don't panic dears, it's just a snow storm

Yes, i realise its snowing outside. No it's not life threatening. Hypocondriacs with shovels wake me up far too early, digging out their cars in a blind bloody panic that they won't be able to drive to the gym and work off that meduim rare steak with extra peppercorn sauce they'd had the night before. Housewives sprint (as fast as you can sprint through knee deep snow) to the corner shop to stock up on bread and milk in a frenzied bid too make sure their spoilt lumps of offspring don't starve in what is surely the brink of a natural disaster. And then there are those half wits who pretend its completely acceptable to pretend like its a breezy summer day and struggle to work in their high heels and probably deserve the broken ankle they're bound to suffer. And all because they dont have an outfit that goes with their snow boots that they purchased for an over rated holiday in the alps.
Of course im generalising and still bitter about the outside and probably natural proceedings of everyone else. Of course they'd react that way to heaps of snow pressed up against their windows like hungry toddlers at a sweet shop. Why wouldn't they. :/
I was quite enjoying the snow, mindlessly stamping footprints into the unspoilt pure parts, squarely (why squarely i don't know) refusing to walk in the sullied, used paths, freshly hurtled through by children. I was then pelted in the ear with a snow ball from some atrocious little dipshit from a carpark roof. At which point i decided the world was doomed and sulked the rest of the way back to the house. Very adult of me of course, but by then i had already decided the day had gone to shit when i fell over tring to put a sock on and the printer had run out of paper. Never a good sign in the morning. Not that the two things are related in any way but when they happen within an hour of eachother it's one in the same when it comes to a sure sign of the day ending with my soul leaking out of my ears. (Or in todays case, snow.)