Bump

So I do what I planned and I go to the random word generator and challenge myself to write something not entirely sleep inducing about whatever word it spits out. Maybe i’ll have to write about some form of food, or an activity that i’ve done in the past, maybe i’ll really luck out and get a big topic that i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about, like love, or hope, or even bridges.

’Bump.

There it is, the minute the page loads up, ‘Bump’.

Right. Well..erm.. yeah.

Now for some reason all that settles into mind is Mr Bump, a childhood favourite for me as I recall, after Mr Tickle of course, who could get his own breakfast in bed. Maybe it was in the tale of this little blue bandaged sphere that I found the kindling for my great love of schadenfruede. Who can’t be entertained by what is essentially a fat, smurf that walks into things and falls down holes. It’s the learning to read equivalent of watching a toddler drop his ice cream on the floor. Then of course the whole thing goes all Taoist on our backsides when the clumsy critter takes decides to work with, rather than struggle against, his disability, and of course now we’re in the 21st century we can recognise his tendency towards accidental injury as a disability, when back in the 20th century he would simply have been thought of as somewhere between unlucky and foolish. In fact if we think about it nowadays he would be viewed, depending on which newspaper you read, either as somebody with an unfortunate condition that should be understood, treated, and used as an excuse for not doing so well in his GCSEs or as a con man of the highest order with Legal Vultures 4 U on speed dial.

Wait, I did a tangent. Yeah our beach ball shaped chum goes and gets himself a job walking into trees in an orchard and causing the apples to fall down. Now you can call me a monster of you like and set the Society for the Patronisation of Clumsy People on me, but I can’t for the life of me think of a better job than as Security Camera Operator at that orchard. Watching Bumpy go about his daily business, tottering into a tree, falling back on his bum rubbing his forehead as the apple smacks him on the bonce.

I’d never be late for work.

All in one

Dear Sir,

The above vehicle, registered in your name, was recently observed on the 20th January 2008 @ 08.20hrs with glove box wide open / sat nav also on display therefore rendering the vehicle vulnerable.

yours faithfully, The Police

——

translated

Dr Mr Idiot,

If you’re gonna leave your sat nav on display inside your car on one of the crappiest streets in Preston don’t come crying to us when it gets nicked. We have better things to do that wipe your arse for you.

yours after they made me trog round on Dimwit Patrol first thing on a Sunday morning, Your Friendly Local Bobby

——

Now, i’m all for preventative policing, even if it is sponsored by Halfords (they offer details of the store and a couple of security product suggestions within the letter), and I can’t fault the police at all for taking the initiative and trying to save them, and me, time, money and inconvenience in this way, it is, on a very practical level, the right thing to do.

But I am left uncomfortable by how this action highlights the further shifting of the responsibility for crime away from the purpetrator and onto the victim. We’ve already had the right to make mistakes or to have accidents taken away from us by no win no fee blame and cash in culture but now we’re being encouraged to do away with our right to trust. I’d rather have my stuff nicked a hundred times and continue to act in a way that suggests i trust the people I live amongst than to assume everyone the enemy and live permanently on guard.

Don’t get me wrong, i’m not some ridiculous hippy that believes everyone is full of warming goodness and should be treated as a brother and welcomed into our homes for cookies and milk. I believe firmly in having spaces and possessions that are exclusively ours and i’m fully aware that the human being is a despicable thing capable of the most remorseless horror. And I know that if i do not take precautions against being bitten on the arse, i will at some point be bitten on the arse.

But i fear if you erode our ability to trust too far then there is no way back.

I was going to write about the party I went to last night before i got that letter. I may do later, it was a strange experience for me, the buffet included radishes, there was some kind of cheese sauce on the celery and 5 different kinds of cheese on offer to be consumed with biscuits and wine. There was also an amusing incident with a muffin, and i was introduced to the concept of ‘toe cleavage’. A good time was had, unexpected laughter was brought to the floor and time actually did what they say it does when you’re having fun and ‘flew’. However there was also unpoliced karaoke in a contained space which i think we can all agree is a much greater threat to our lives than having our sat nav swiped.

This is not cable-stayed

Everyone seems to be blogging this week. Maybe it’s because the party has finally worn off, the floods have subsided and we’re all feeling a bit more reflective. Maybe it’s just cos there’s nothing good on TV. Either way, i’ve been meaning to get back into it and there’s nothing like a crowd to follow for spurring people into action so may as well join in.

I’ve started and scrapped several blogs over the past months, mostly because it became apparent a few long winded paragraphs in that i didn’t really have anything to write about. You see, the thing with a blog, is it’s like a diary, people write about what they’re up to and how they are doing and such things, and in order to do this to to a level interesting enough to waste your eyesight it requires a fair degree of openness and sensitivity and other such hippy crap that has never really been my bag. I’ve built up some pretty impressive walls which i’m hoping to eventually roof and then apply for classification as a listed structure so i’m damned if i’m gonna start taking bricks out without a bloody good reason.

I considered bypassing this by writing about ‘topics’ and such, i even found a web based ‘random word generator’ and considered setting myself the challenge of writing each day about whatever word crops up. I may still do this to be honest, because the reason i write blogs isn’t because i’m under the misguided notion that anyone actually wants to know anything about me or mine, but more just for the exercise of writing, i like the sound of my own fingers, and it reassures me that my brain hasn’t fallen apart at the seams completely and i can still at least string words together in a way what is good a bit.

I just got distracted by Jeremy Clarkson in a day glo ski jacket. What the hell was I wittering about? Oh yeah, if you haven’t fallen asleep yet I was saying i’d given up writing any blogs because i’m an emotional miser who would generally rather give you a fiver than a feeling. This of course isn’t true in the slightest but we all have our self portraits to preserve, no matter how much of a scribble they are.

But frankly not blogging in the traditional manner through a lack of desire to reveal a chink in the armor (i was sure armor had a u in it) is paramount to not leaving the bed through fear of standing on slug, it’s no way to live your life.

So here goes. My copy of Blogging for Dummies tells me that a Classic Blog should start with a paragraph on how the writer is feeling at the moment. This would of course be much easier if I was of the lying kind, but as honesty is probably the only virtue i do possess it’s gonna be a matter of sucking it up and getting on with it really.

Right this minute I’m feeling pretty ashamed of myself in the most part. I was drunk last night and i was very inconsiderate and selfish towards a friend. So now not only do I have a relationship to rebuild, but I have a friend who is feeling crappy that I can’t help. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it when you break a trust like that. And people only ever say ‘sorry’ to make themselves feel better anyway. On the positive side (and every single cloud does have a silver lining, and if you ever need me to show you it i gladly will) this happening and me feeling bad about it has brought into focus that it’s something that’s been happening to lesser degrees altogether too much recently, and something I need to sort out. Hopefully it will also have encouraged them to punch me in the face in future, preferably with words rather than a fist, when I deserve it.

But obviously we don’t only have one feeling inside us at once, if that was the case girls wouldn’t have anything to think themselves into a state about. So on a smaller scale i’m feeling fairly proud of myself, because i’m writing this instead of playing pro evo, though i am aware that not only is my pro evo training suffering by this choice but that i could be doing something far more worthwhile with my time, like getting those basslines practiced, or feeding the hungry, or conversing over dinner with a friend, or making love with a beautiful woman. But y’know, we can’t be doing everything all the time.

What does the manual say I have to do next? Right, what have i been up to since the last blog. well that was in.... August, that recent? wow. I’m practically prolific. Ok so, since the end of august what have I done. I jumped out of a plane. Always good to start with something dramatic I think. Although, once you’ve said it you’ve said it, there isn’t really any follow up information, the parachute obviously opened, and nobody really wants to know about the end cell closure or the slightly botched landing, besides, everyones done it these days, some people use it as an alternative to public transport on the commute to work. So what else have I done in the last 5 months.

Erm.

Er.. see, here is the problem. The most significant activity of the winter months for me has been watching a lot of TV programs about bridges, and some about tunnels, and this one about the Panama Canal, and this great boat that Brunel built that cost shit loads and never made a voyage. And in terms of blogging readability, that doesn’t really cut the mustard, you may as well just read wikipedia. But it is significant for me you see, because it’s revealed to me that i’m actually interested in something, i actually feel the need to learn about these materials and techniques and designs. Which is quite a big thing, because it’s very rare i’m interested in anything much beyond where my next meal or my next kiss is coming from. And let’s face it, everybody needs a hobby, because boredom is not a desirable long term lifestyle choice.

Of course this isn’t all i’ve done, i’ve been out, i’ve had fun with friends, i’ve had drunken nights and hungover days, i’ve played music, i’ve seen family, i’ve driven, i’ve eaten and i’ve slept. But we all do this, every day, so in very real terms, it’s nothing to write home about. I haven’t fallen in love, I haven’t changed the world, i’ve just trundled through each day doing whatever i needed to do to get to the next one and hopefully have a laugh on the way.

These ‘ere instructions tell me it’s best to close a blog with a short piece about your plans and hopes and dreams for the future. But i’m not sure about that, i’m not big on hopes and dreams, the origin of suffering is desire, or attachment, or money, or women, or last nights doner kebab, or cats, or myspace, or something. But yeah, i don’t like to talk about stuff that’s planned, incase it jinxes it, or someone steals it, or you change your mind and don’t do it and then look like a flakey fool. So i’m not gonna do that, and to be honest, this blog is far too long as it is, and I have to have a shower or i won’t be allowed into the castle for the princess’ debut.

Adios for now.