MAN UP! HEAD DOWN!

Life isn't to be enjoyed. It's to be tolerated. I think that's undeniable. You can breakdown in the face of this truth or you can man up. If you choose to man up, you get your head down. You get your head down and you get your work done and you pay your way. There isn't much joy in it, but there is dignity in it. Don't be a freeloader. Don't expect anyone else's share. Take care of yourself. It's about competition, not cooperation. The only time you cooperate is to beat the competition. We're all rivals and you know it. Deep down, you know that only too well. Sure, the minus is that no one owes you anything, but the plus is that you don't owe anyone anything. Just get your head down, provide for yourself and try not to die in too much pain.

You see, you've got to be a tough guy in this world because this world is tough, guys. You don't measure the worth of your world with intangible notions like personal contentment and a sense of community. That stuff isn't quantifiable. You don't see that shit on graphs. Community can be best validated by measurable collective economic stability. That way we keep the road to the workplace smoothly tarred. Anything else and you're on your own. You've got to man up and compete. You've got to generate the income to partake of resources. There isn't enough to go around so you've got to earn your share. There's a scarcity and even if there isn't a scarcity, we should act as if there is or else there will be. Got me?

Way back in the way back when, F.W. Taylor knew that internal gratification didn't get us anywhere. He knew that external reward is the way to go. You're not a craftsman, you're a cog, but you're a cog that gets paid a heck of a lot more than a craftsman and shit gets made quicker too. Where would we be without quick shit? Waiting, that's where. It's about efficiency guys. Efficiency trumps all and if you're efficient you get paid more and you can spend your pay on quick shit.

Of course, I know what you're thinking. You're complaining that your income has been cut despite your hard work. If your income has been cut you man up. Work harder! The frontiersmen of old didn't bitch when their crops failed. Oh no. They steeled themselves for a hungry winter and tried again next year. People died, yeah. People die all the time. The cog gets rusty and it's replaced. Big deal. The machine has to keep running and that's all that matters because without the machine, well, without the machine we'd all have to go without wouldn't we? Yeah, we would. We'd all just be spare parts with no purpose. We'd have no reason to get our heads down and we'd have to look up and look around and if we did that then who knows what we'd see. What would we see then? It could be anything. Anything under the sun. The thought is too awful to contemplate. Just get your head down, that's the only way. For the love of God, whatever you do, get your head down and don't look up. Don't look up, just man up! Man up and get your head down!

THE COSMOS COMMUNICATED

The cosmos communicated. It flooded his mind with stars and equations, with the formula for infinity. Everything was revealed to him. EVERYTHING. The reality of the smallest thing to the largest thing. There was no size. It was just a category, like the whole of time and space that stretched out before him. He saw the beginning of all and the end of all and he saw that both occurred at once. He saw things as God saw things. He saw that he was God. He saw that all was God. He saw that all was one. The ultimate truth was set in front of him and the intelligible was rendered elementary. The mysteries that had taunted humankind since its inception were solved and made known. The Universe had whispered in his ear and he had been granted the most absolute of privileges.

He alone saw all.

He alone knew all.

He alone knew what it was all for.

'Hang on,' he eventually said to himself, 'if I play my cards right, I might be able to make a few bob out of this.'

SERVICE PROVIDER

I'll steal your world from you and you'll rent it back. You'll appreciate it more because it has a price. You'll earn the money to pay for your keep by working for me. I'll pay you almost as much as you pay me. You can borrow the rest you need from me so you don't fall behind on the payments but you'll have to pay me interest. It's my world after all. You owe me, in perpetuity.

I'll do the same with your peace of mind. I'll rob your self-esteem and flog you placebos. I'll tell you that you are ill and sell you pills if you become fatigued. You are unwell. The world is well, that's why you pay for it. If you can't pay for it you are not fit for it. You are too weak to be part of the world. You are aberrant, a malcontent, a criminal, a skiver or sick. Take your pick.

I'll make you feel ashamed of being poor or poorly or too fat or too thin. I'll make you hate yourself, outside and in. I'll be the sole gatekeeper of your self-approval. I'll be your self-improver. I'll sell you books that tell you how to get by but they won't tell you how to get by so you'll have to buy more. Then I'll get you to pay me for an army and I'll send it to war against another army that you also paid for.

When the fighting is done, I'll charge you for reparations and get you to pay me to pay you to clean up the devastation. You'll pay me for the monuments that you'll build in my honour. If you died in my name, I'll say you were a martyr. I'll sell you a coffin and pass your debts to you kids. I'll be the one who decides where you spend the life after this. Heaven or Hell, I'll own you even in death and you'll thank me because it was too much responsibility to own yourself.

TARZAN'S SHAME

There were shops so Tarzan went to them. Have you ever been to shops? I bet you have. Most people have been to shops. Not Tarzan though. Tarzan had never been to shops before. Tarzan had no need for shops up to this time. Up to this time, Tarzan had been living in hedges at the ends of gardens and feeding on birds, squirrels and hedgehogs. Tarzan had everything Tarzan needed but people who are called 'The Authorities' told Tarzan to change Tarzan's ways or they would lock Tarzan in a room for the rest of Tarzan's life. Tarzan did not want to be locked in a room for the rest of Tarzan's life. That struck Tarzan as very constricting so Tarzan changed his ways.

Tarzan was told that Tarzan needed proper clothes and other things called accoutrements and that Tarzan would get them from shops so Tarzan went to shops. Then a man in a shop told Tarzan that Tarzan had to hand over money if Tarzan wanted to take away the items Tarzan needed. Tarzan asked the man in the shop what money was and the man in the shop showed Tarzan bits of paper and some small pieces of metal. Tarzan realised that Tarzan did not have any money. Tarzan asked the man in the shop if he would take pebbles and litter instead of money and the man in the shop said that he would not. Tarzan told the man in the shop that Tarzan needed money and asked the man in the shop to give Tarzan some. The man in the shop told Tarzan that Tarzan would get money in the bank and told Tarzan where the bank was so Tarzan went there and asked the lady in the bank for money. The lady in the bank told Tarzan that Tarzan could only take money away from the bank if Tarzan put money in the bank. Tarzan did not think that this made sense. Why would Tarzan need something Tarzan already had and if Tarzan had something why would Tarzan give it to someone else to give back to Tarzan? Tarzan told the lady in the bank that she was wasting Tarzan's time. Tarzan left the bank.

As Tarzan was leaving the bank, the lady in the bank told Tarzan that Tarzan should put some clothes on. Tarzan told the lady in the bank that the world was Tarzan's clothes and walked out the door, putting one foot into the world just like most people put one foot through the leg of their trousers every morning.

Tarzan asked a man on the street if he knew where Tarzan could get money and the man on the street told Tarzan that Tarzan could earn it by working so Tarzan went looking for a job. Tarzan asked people if there was a job that Tarzan could do for them in exchange for money and they told Tarzan that Tarzan needed qualifications before Tarzan could get a job. Tarzan asked them where Tarzan could get qualifications and they said the college so Tarzan went to the college and the people at the college told Tarzan that they would only give Tarzan qualifications if Tarzan gave them money. Tarzan told the people at the college that Tarzan had no money and they told Tarzan to get a job.

Tarzan was beginning to get very confused. Tarzan was confused and hungry. Tarzan saw a small dog but Tarzan did not eat it because Tarzan did not want to be locked in a room for the rest of Tarzan's life by The Authorities.

Tarzan wandered the streets naked and a man pointed at Tarzan's penis and said 'cover that up or I will call The Authorities'. Everyone seemed to be disgusted by Tarzan's penis. The men all had their penises covered up by clothes and the ladies had their breasts and vaginas covered up too. Lots more of their bodies were covered up by clothes. Only their heads and hands were showing. They had hidden themselves from themselves because they found themselves disgusting. Tarzan realised that Tarzan better find Tarzan disgusting too or Tarzan would be locked in a room for the rest of Tarzan's life so Tarzan practised being disgusted by Tarzan and to go around thinking about the money all the time. 'Tarzan needs money, Tarzan needs money', said Tarzan to Tarzan all the time and Tarzan's hungry belly agreed with a growl.

Tarzan never got any money. The once mighty Tarzan got weak and skinny and Tarzan still had no clothes. An old lady saw Tarzan and said 'you should be ashamed' so Tarzan became ashamed. Tarzan became ashamed of Tarzan's nudity and Tarzan's poverty. Tarzan had never felt shame before.

The shame hung around Tarzan. Even though Tarzan could not see the shame, Tarzan knew that the shame was there because Tarzan felt the shame. Tarzan could no longer see the world because of the shame. Something Tarzan could not see was stopping Tarzan from seeing. 'Tarzan is blind yet Tarzan has eyes!' exclaimed the confused and miserable Tarzan.

Tarzan tried to hide from the shame but the shame found Tarzan wherever Tarzan went so Tarzan went to the only place the shame could not follow. Tarzan went to death. Tarzan dived from the top of a big shop and landed on the pavement. Splat. The shame was gone but Tarzan's skinny naked body remained, crumpled on the path. Tarzan's body was left there. No one would clear it away because of a thing called an industrial dispute. The men who clear away dead bodies wanted more money and the people who gave them money to clear away dead bodies did not want to give them more money. So, Tarzan's body rotted where it was and those who passed by it said it was a shame. 'What kind of world is this at all?', one lady asked. Tarzan could not answer her because Tarzan was dead but she did not want Tarzan to answer because she did not want to know. She already did. Deep down, she just wished she didn't.

GET THE JOB DONE (rumination of a philosophical dog)

I suppose, now that I've had 'the job' done on me, I don't spend so much time thinking about riding next door's setter. I have time to think about other things. Bigger things. Imagine if we could take ourselves for walkies. Where would we go? Would we wander off to some wonderful world where dogs rule and take the two-legs for walkies? Is that why the two-legs keep us on leads and locked in gardens? Do the two-legs fear that we will find this other land, the Dog Land, and rise up and bite the two-legs and avenge ourselves upon them for giving us 'the job'?

And what exactly is in that stuff that comes out of the cans and how does it differ to the stuff that comes out of my arse? Is there any difference? The two seem related somehow. They kind of taste the same.

And why do I bother marking territory? Who am I kidding? I don't own any part of this world. This world will keep on spinning long after I'm gone. The barking will continue. Bikes will still be chased and sticks retrieved. And those that haven't had 'the job' done on them will still have puppies and those puppies will grow up and the whole furry debacle will continue. But to what aim? For what purpose? Are we all just, literally and figuratively, chasing our tails?

And why are cats such arseholes? Why do the two-legs like them so much? All they do is, ...well, not very much. And the disdain, the permanent disdain on their faces. I reckon the two-legs hate themselves and like to have something around that hates them too. The two-legs feel they deserve no better. The two-legs can only love something that hates them. The two-legs can't love something that loves them back. The two-legs can't even respect something that is stupid enough to love them. Maybe cats have it right after all. Maybe I should behave like a cat. I don't think my face can do disdain though. It can just do mouth and eyes open or mouth and eyes closed. I do look kind of stupid I suppose.

I have my share of regrets. These things frequently come to mind. Awful regrets Why did I roll in shit that time? Why? I upset everyone. It was such an inconsiderate thing to do. Am I an inconsiderate dog? Is that why they did 'the job' on me, so I wouldn't sire inconsiderate pups? No, the two-legs like inconsiderate things. Cats are inconsiderate and the two-legs can't get enough of cats. The two-legs relate to inconsiderate things. If you are considerate, the two-legs just think you are stupid.

The two-legs are complex things. Dogs are not complex. This is why the two-legs rule but I would not swap places with the two-legs. They make the most elementary things so very complicated. The simple pleasures of life, chasing a stick or a bike, riding your one next door, displaying affection, all of these things come with so much other stuff for the two-legs. Other stuff that I will never understand. And the two-legs have other needs too. Needs beyond canine comprehension. Things to do with things they have invented. Things they don't even need. I remember once the two-legs bought me a toy. It was a kind of rubber thing in the shape of a bone and I remember how they said I was stupid because I preferred a real bone that one of them left on a plate. And then they fought because one had wasted something called 'money' on the fake rubber bone and the other said they should have bought something called 'scratch cards' instead. I remember seeing the cat peering at the two-legs with scorn that time and I remember understanding her contempt. I could never feel such hate though. Loving may be stupid but it's much more fun. But I do now know that I'd rather have four legs than two, even if that makes me dumb. And I sometimes also think, maybe the two-legs are the ones that should get the job done.

DO ME A FAVOUR LORD SHIVA AND GET THE F**K OUT OF MY OFFICE!

'Hope fuels the fool because the fool doesn't know what to hope for.' That is the legend that hangs over the entrance to the Fugger Life Coaching office.

There's a lot of discontent out there. There's a lot of people limping through their lives, hobbled by their discontent. A lot of these people come around to Fugger's life coaching office. I get them to sit down and tell me all about it and they do. It's always the same. They are unhappy. All of them. Some want to be understood. These people usually are understood, perfectly understood. The real problem for these people is not that they are misunderstood but, in fact, that they are not understood in a way that they would like to be understood. They would like everyone to understand them as fantastic individuals but others understand them as flawed individuals. Instead of acknowledging that they may actually be flawed, the people that come to my office take the easy option and decide that they are misunderstood. Do you understand that? No, neither do I. I tell these people that they are indeed misunderstood and the person that understands them least is themselves.

Other people often tell me that they wish they were, and I quote, 'fucking dead'. I am forced to point out to these people that their problem is not that they wish they were 'fucking dead' but really that they wish they were 'fucking alive' or maybe just 'fucking'. I'm not sure if that's what these people want to hear but it's what they need to hear. They usually ask me what they can do about it and I tell them to stop wanting things and maybe to try and just let things happen.

You see, the problem for many is that they won't let things happen unless things happen exactly as they want them to. Take the great many who come to me complaining that they are 'unloved'. I tell these people that, unless they are child eating cannibals or something, they are doubtlessly loved by someone but probably just not by the person they wished they were loved by. Then I tell them that the person they wished they were loved by is probably visiting some other life coach complaining about not being loved by some other person and that this other person might well love the person I am talking to and also be feeling similarly unloved. Do you follow me? You probably don't. You often get confused by those perplexing sentences I construct for that very purpose. Apologies. I'll make myself clearer. It's like this, Tom comes into my office complaining that no one loves him. By 'no one' he means Jane. Then I tell him that Ann loves him. Then Jane comes in complaining that 'no one' loves her and I ask if by 'no one' she means Ann and she admits she does and then Ann comes in complaining that 'no one' loves her and she means Tom. It's a Möbius strip of discontent. The Universe's little joke. Lord Shiva playing a game with himself. A strangely miserable game but perhaps entertaining in its misery, like Eastenders or something. I tell those that feel unloved that everyone feels unloved and this is the ultimate irony of the cosmos because everything in the cosmos is the one thing. 'It's as if the top of your head longs to touch the sole of your foot because it fails to realise that they are already connected', I say. It's in response to this that I'm often told by my clients that I'm being far too spiritual and not at all pragmatic. That's when I say that spiritual is pragmatic and that it seems to me what the client actually means by pragmatic is magic, as in a magic solution to all their problems that will bring them their desires on their specific terms. I then conclude by reminding the client that I am a life coach and not a fucking genie and, pointing to the words over the door, I say 'do me a favour Lord Shiva and get the fuck out of my office'.

Yes, my clients often complain that my coaching fails to make them happy and they usually ask for their money back. This is when I remind them of two things. The first is that money doesn't make you happy. The second is that life is not about being happy anyway but actually about feeling fulfilled and fulfillment often comes by a circuitous route that involves a great deal of unhappiness. Take a mountaineer who feels the need to conquer a daunting peak. Climbing to the peak will probably be a miserable and trying experience but the compulsion for fulfillment drives the mountaineer on. When my clients finally understand this they usually return to the topic of the money I've taken from them. (It's very hard to shift people away from the thought of money) 'If money doesn't make one happy Mister Fugger', they ask, 'then why don't you give me a refund?'. My clients often adopt a smug expression when they ask this question, thinking they have turned my own logic against me. This is when I tell my clients that they'll find not getting a refund more fulfilling than actually getting a refund because if they don't get a refund they'll enjoy moaning about it all the time and moaning is obviously what makes them feel fulfilled because actually addressing their fucking problems certainly doesn't seem to do it for them. If this seems unfair to you I'll remind you that the clients and me are one and the same anyway as we are both of the same cosmos so they don't need a refund as they never lost the money in the first place. Remember too, you are also us so if you still think it's wrong for me not give a refund you should remember that you are me so you are also not giving that refund and, like the clients, we are also being denied the refund just as the clients are denying themselves the refund. It sounds complicated but it's simple enough to grasp really, once you're enlightened. We are all one. We are all Lord Shiva's sock puppets, albeit unaware that we are mere avatars in his cosmic game of Eastenders.

****

Look, I hope I'm not coming across as esoteric and heartless. That's not my intention. I know that life can be rough and sometimes it can be very very rough. I also know that depression and sadness are terrible things but discontent, well, discontent is quite another thing. Discontent is caused by a sense of entitlement that is based on cultural norms and today's cultural norms come from the unsophisticated narratives found in popular large screen dramas, advertisements and other kinds of things where all problems are portrayed as solvable and everyone, ultimately, gets what they want. This is nonsense. Even if it were true, once you got what you wanted you'd probably start to want something else. 'Want' is the problem. 'Want' is an addiction. 'Want' is a state of mind. We are indoctrinated to 'want' and not just 'be'. Sure, 'want' makes money but money doesn't make you happy. Mine is the true War on Want! Quit wanting! That should be all you want.

Consider it this way, a thousand years ago my clients wouldn't have had the time to be discontentedly wanting all the shit they want, they'd just be happy enough to have made it to the end of the day without being mauled to death by some kind of gigantic bear.

Do you understand? Are you feeling illuminated? Good. Now, do me a favour Lord Shiva and get the fuck out of my office.

(Remember – although greatly enlightening (and a bit up its own arse these days), visiting fugtheworld.blogspot.com cannot replace a therapeutic relationship with a reliable mental health professional - you crazy fool.)

THE FUGGER INSTITUTE

I have a little black kettle and four large white mugs. How many of the large mugs can the little kettle fill? The answer is all four and the best part of a fifth - if I had a fifth, which I don't. I know all this because I carried out a test. I donned my lab coat and I did the research. I've looked into other things too. Which sells better, a good book or a rubbish book? I gathered the data. I put the data in the Datalizer and the Datalizer shat the results out on my Knowledge Carpet. I examined the pattern on the Knowledge Carpet and the answer is a rubbish book. Rubbish books sell better than good books. The same principle applies to films, music, all art in general, human beings and, somewhat strangely, biscuits. Price difference might account for the latter. I'll have to add that factor to future computations.

These are the kinds of activities that take place at The Fugger Institute. It is here that I and my team search for answers and it is here that we get results. The Fugger Institute is a hub of discovery and invention. It was The Fugger Institute that developed the The Quorak Curve. The Quorak Curve gives an entirely representative representation of entirely representative things. Very useful if you want to represent something or see something represented. We also facilitated Professor Benjamin Wellum in his development of the now famous Wellum's Theorem, a theorem that clearly proves that Wellum had a theorem. Another of my favorites is The Randomizer. By throwing random things together randomly, The Randomizer does random things, producing random results. It's very reliable. In fact, the randomness of The Randomizer is, statistically speaking, the least random thing in the Universe. This indicates that we inhabit a reality that is fundamentally ironic and probably taking the piss. Now, if I can get reality to take this piss on my Knowledge Carpet so I can view the pattern it leaves, I might just discover the key to all of space-time. Wouldn't that be nice?

Amongst our more recent inventions and thought experiments is something we call The Intention Hat. The Intention Hat is an uncomfortable hat that gives everyone who wears it the same intention. That intention being the intention to take the hat off. You may consider these results obvious but to us they are fascinating – fascinatingly obvious. Why are things obvious? That is what we are really looking into here. What is obvious? Why are some things not obvious? How can we make everything obvious so that there is no more confusion in the world? Not so 'obvious' now is it? The Intention Hat inspired us to start work on something we call The Obviousualizer. The Obviousualizer will basically be a pair of goggles and when you look through them the Universe will be stripped of its mystery. A member of staff recently donned a prototype and instantly lost his mind so we've got rough edges to sort out there.

Have I mentioned The Neuroticon yet? The Neuroticon is a large catalogue of neurotic conditions that can be instantly contracted just by reading about them. The man who compiled it mentally disintegrated under the weight of his knowledge. Since he completed the catalogue it has never been opened and is kept locked in a safe that no one knows the combination to. However, intrigued by the contents of The Neuroticon, The Fugger Institute is working on the Neuroticon Codebreaker, software that will provide us with the combination to the safe. Opening the safe will of course be dangerous seeing as The Neuroticon is in there so The Fugger Institute is also working on the Codebreaker Virus that will render the Neuroticon Codebreaker inoperable. Needless to say, The Fugger Institute is in the early stages of developing more software that protects the Neuroticon Codebreaker from the virus.

The thing we are working on that excites me most is Love Money. Love Money is not an object but actually a school of thought that intends to replace all the world's currencies with love. Instead of pieces of paper and coins, our fundamental form of exchange will be to treat others as we ourselves would like to be treated. This will help us understand that love for humanity is not some vague hippyish aspiration but actually an innate and pragmatic force that ensures stability and common well-being. Love Money will also prevent the concept of love from being confused with the incredibly pleasant but ultimately selfish and hideously conditional sexual infatuation that is celebrated in American films and popular music.

Another couple of things that can be found at the institute are The Monkey Chamber, a chamber that The Fugger Institute keeps its monkeys in, and Fuzzy Felt.

These last two items are not so impressive and the latter may have already been invented but what the hell, it's great fun and surely that's what it's all about at the end of the day. But what is fun? Maybe we should look into that. It's an interesting question. Hmmm, are games fun? What if they become too competitive and the participants become upset? Is that fun? If not why do it? Some say it's character building but you'd want to be building a pretty strange character. Speaking of strange characters, Benji Wellum proposed that we investigate how many large white mugs it would take to fill my little black kettle. I pointed out that the result would be almost five as a new experiment would merely be the one I carried out earlier in reverse. However, Wellum asked if the reverse is always the inverse of the forward and when I said I wasn't sure what he meant he turned the kettle upside down and concluded that it couldn't be filled at all. As I watched Benji dementedly pour filled mugs onto an upside down kettle, it occurred to me that maybe some minds inquire too much. Can inquiring burn out your wiring? This question is laced with irony because asking it invites the possible burn out the question warns against. I suppose that's reality again, taking the piss.

****

Hmmm. The human mind. The questions it asks. The lengths it goes to answer them. Then these answers lead to more questions and so on and so on, forever, without end, into the infinite circle and back to where it left off, the very start, the Ouroboros eats its tail because further discovery usually reveals that previous discovery was wrong and so everything must be discovered again. Oh yes, inquiry and discovery, looping, arcing, spiraling in a never ending game. A game someone or something must have invented ...for 'fun'.

'The divine is hidden from the people according to the wisdom of the Lord.'

ORDER!

Did you see the moon up there last night? It was like a discarded dirty plate and the stars were scattered about it like shiny white crumbs. I was looking up and I found it very messy. I found the sight slightly obscene. We'll put order on it one day. We'll line up the stars in neat rows, like the ones on the flag of the United States of America. We will look up and see a regimented, disciplined, and comprehensible night sky. We have brought order to our world and we will bring order to what lies beyond it. We cut the grass and trim the hedges. It's what we're all about. It's how we roll.

We even put time in order. We made it a series of numbers on a dial. When the pointer on the dial is at a certain number you know that it's time to get out of bed. When it points to the next number you know that it's time to leave for work. When it points to the number after that you know that you are late for work. A few numbers later and you know that it's OK to go home and watch the telly. Before us time was a sprawling mess, an intangible nuisance, but we captured time on a dial and when we put time in order we put ourselves in order.

Before time, humans were a messy. They just did things, all willy nilly and whenever. They would eat when their belly grumbled, sleep when they were tired, plant stuff when it was getting sunny and reap it when it was getting cold. Nothing really got done when it should be done and when it should be done is when we say it should be done. Proper order!

When we put time in order we put work in order and when we put work in order we put money in order. Yes, money. We gave designated times to the earning of money and with money we designated objective value to things. Before money value was messy and subjective and sentimental. Now it is certain.

We have order and we, ourselves, are defined by order. We ordered reality so it would order us. Without order there is only disorder. Have you ever felt disordered? Not nice is it? Scary isn't it? Did you know that there are those amongst us that hanker for the disorder that lies beneath order? Yes, it's true. Some actually feel an aversion to the numbers on the dial and to designated toil and objective values. These people are feeling the atavistic longing for a world before order. These people are subversives and seek to reinstate mess. These people are inhuman because to be human is to be ordered. These people must be put back in order so that they once again appreciate and obey order. You see, to stay ordered we must obey our orders otherwise we'd be a mess like the dirty plate and crumbs scattered throughout last night's sky. Without order we'd be an obscenity. An insult to human cognition. An anachronism. We'd be mad people or even criminals. Without order, well, we might not even exist!

There is no alternative. There is only order. We decide order and we impose order. We are order and we must have order and to have order we must obey order. So quit messing. That's an order!

This message was brought to you by the Society for the Maintenance of Chronological and Spatial Ontology, Kinnegad Main Street, County Westmeath.

MONEYMONEYMONEYMONEYMONEYMONEY

We need some money. Have you got any money? We've run out of money. If we have no money we can't give you money so give us some money. Have you got any money? We're nothing without money. If we have no money then you'll have no money and you're nothing without money. You can't have a home without money. You can't have a family without money. You have no shoes on your feet without money. Education costs money. Health costs money. Justice costs money. You have no rights without money. You are not a proper person without money. If you want to have money you'll have to give us your money. I mean, can you imagine a world without money? There would be no money. You can't have anything without money. Everything costs money. Ideas cost money. Innovation costs money. Self-expression costs money. Art costs money, lots and lots of money. Work costs money and leisure costs money. War costs money and peace costs money. Even air costs money. We have to clean the air by spending money because we made it dirty while we were making money so now even air costs money. Money doesn't make sense so to make money make sense we need to spend money. The problem is money but the solution is money so give us some money because we ran out of money when we were trying to make more money and we need money to make more money to get back the money we lost making money. So it's all about money. We need some money. Have you got any money?

BACKWARDS FORWARDS

and now I'm here again, yes, I'm back and I'll tell you how I came to be back in the next post but for this post I want to tell you about something I witnessed on my way back. On my way back (from a place that defies description because it isn't even there) I passed through several planes that contained possible realities that could have come to be if it wasn't for the fact that they didn't. One such reality caught my attention. A reality where the following took place...

This wealthy corporation invented rear view mirrors for pedestrians but pedestrians didn't want them because pedestrians didn't need them so then the corporation made ads and movies with 'cool' and 'glamorous' people walking backwards and made the ability to walk backwards a bit of a cultural status symbol and the inability to walk backwards a bit of a social stigma so, after a time, not too long a time, everyone wanted to walk backwards and then, to help them do it safely, the corporation sold everyone rear view mirrors.

Sales were staggeringly good. Shares in the corporation shot up and people were employed in the production, the selling, and the exportation and importation of rear view mirrors for pedestrians - and related products. In short: walking backwards was good for the economy and made fiscal sense. Everyone was happily walking backwards to work and then happily walking backwards to shops to spend their wages on rear view mirrors and rear view mirror paraphernalia - like rear view mirror polish and rear view mirror ornamentation. (People liked to decorate their rear view mirrors in different ways in order to express their individuality. Having said that, only a handful of decoration designs were considered desirable. The rest were considered to be lacking 'that certain something' required by the vast majority of people. So, the vast majority of people all expressed their individuality by purchasing the same select handful of decoration designs. Maybe it was belonging they were after and not individuality. Who knows? People eh? They're a funny lot.)

Anyway, everyone was happy and after a generation or two they all forgot how to walk forwards. They even forgot why anyone would want to walk forwards and actually considered walking backwards to be walking forwards. To these people, not walking backwards would be a perverse and/or insane thing to do. Rear view mirror sales never abated. The economy thrived. Going forward.

So, what do you think of that? Seem familiar? Surely not. Such batty fuckin behaviour could never become the norm in our reality. Heaven forbid! Heavens to Betsy! And who is Betsy anyway?

...So many questions. We shall answer all of them together or die in the attempt. I'll start by answering a question no one asked. The question is: 'what happened to Fugger after last time?' But I've run out of time so to find out what happened to Fugger after last time join Fugger next time.

REALM BEYOND REASON

Stars are ghosts of long dead suns haunting the night above us. They are the echoes of things that once existed and witnessed events beyond the realm of our reason. We don't wonder though, we just proceed. I'm taking the dog out for his evening shite or I'm putting out the bins. It's cold. It's dark. It's dead silent but for distant traffic sighing and the wind quietly sneaking through branches. I'm on the surface of this still planet and I might look up. I might notice these shining spirits in the sky. I may momentarily feel comforted or threatened or ambivalent. Then I will look away and I will do what I need to do or watch the dog do what must be done. Then I will go back inside. I will watch my television and it will erase my mind of wonder and blind me to the infinite. A quiz is on. A woman with nice legs is giving away a big cash prize. I won't bother entering the competition even though I know the answers to all the questions. It's trivia from the small portion of the Universe we continually stare at and think about and measure ourselves by, a small portion of the Universe that concerns itself with fame and fortune. The stars in the sky are eclipsed by the stars on the screen. Marvels roll and burst, are born and die, above us and all around us – further than our eyes can see and our minds can reach - but I'm reaching for the remote control. I'm turning up the volume. Fuck the ineffability of the ineffable ineffableness. I'm going to see if I can win this quiz, this quiz that I couldn't be arsed entering. I'm paying close attention and shouting out the answers in a realm beyond reason.

AH, WE WERE ONLY CODDING YOU!

 (pictured above: the planning committee) 

Tomorrow you’ll wake up and eat and leave your building and find the whole world, everyone in the world, standing outside your front door. We’ll all be there, everyone, from all over the globe, rich, poor, famous, infamous, anonymous, all the people who read this blog and all the people who don’t. We’ll all be there and we’ll all be laughing at you. We’ll be laughing and pointing at you because you fell for our trick. The big trick we were all playing on you, yeah you, and you alone.

‘What trick?’ I hear your trembling mind inquire. Well, all of it really, the whole thing. Take money for a start. You don’t think we really use money do you? Jesus no, that was just a trick we were playing on you since you were born. Why would we use money? Look at the problems it causes, all the inequality, the starving people exporting food, all that madness. We were a bit surprised you went along with it actually but what were you to do I suppose. I must say, you did seem to like money at times. Anyway, we don’t use it. We don’t spend money because we are just given things and we don’t earn money because we just do things for each other. It’s a lot less complicated. That money trick got out of hand. I mean the markets, did you really think that was for real? Ha! Not at all.

Nationalism was just something we made up too. Why would people bother with that when you think about it? Patriotism? Good Lord, that would be absurd. What difference would it make where you’re from? Why would you base your identity on that? Why be so tetchy about it? And the violence! It’s nuts. It’d be like everyone with red hair having their own flags and marching about firing guns. Funny though, you seemed to get a bit patriotic yourself at times. You even stood up for that awful tune we decided to pretend was your national anthem. We used some of the worst musical compositions we could find as the anthems. For the laugh, y’know? Pompous dirges. Some of us were worried you’d cop on that the nationalism thing was all bullshit because the tunes were so bad but no, when you heard them you didn’t cop on, you stood up.

You stood up in church too. You stood up and sat down and knelt. Do I even have to tell you that religion was part of the gag? I mean, did you even look at the Pope and all the other crowd in the mad clothes, talking shite? How did you fall for that? I thought that part would be the giveaway myself. We took the idea of religion from a horror novel one of us wrote. He also came up with the idea of empires and wars and so on and we decided to trick you into thinking all that was history or the ‘news’. The news, Ha! The planning committee had some laugh coming up with that shite every day let me tell you.

I hope you’re not pissed off with us though. It was just a joke and you coped with it pretty well. I mean, considering the corner we painted you into and the world we forced you to endure, you didn’t crack up and behaved like quite a decent sort all things considered. I mean, you may not have done much to change things but you didn’t exactly endorse them either and you treated those close to you with decency and respect. Well, most of them. You were a bit of a shit to Chris Darcy while you were in school but besides that you were OK.

Yeah, I’m sorry. The joke went a bit far and we didn’t know how to stop it. It all got out of hand and we feel really bad about it now. I mean, we don’t really do bad things. Don’t get me wrong, the world isn’t perfect. There is still suffering. There is still illness and bereavement and lost love and jealousy and all that. People do disagree and fight and let each other down but we usually muddle through. Nothing ever ends in a war like we pretended. People usually make up and if they don’t well that’s a pity and they just agree to ignore each other but they don’t go killing each other or launching attack drones and all that. Ha! God, the stuff we came up with. What must you have been thinking at times? Anyway look, we’re sorry. We won’t do it again. Relax and have a beer. No, put your money away, it’s free. In fact you can throw that money in the bin. That’s all just pretend shite. You look a bit confused. You look a bit devastated. Sure, don’t worry about it anymore. It was all just joke. You may have got a bit attached to the way things were but it was all just a joke. Trust me, it’s much nicer in real life. You’ll find out tomorrow morning when you leave the house. We’ll all be there, all of us, pointing and laughing and all saying in unison ‘ah, we were only codding you’ and then you’ll see how things really are and how they should have been all along.

There is NO other way! A Brief History of Capitalism.

Capitalism was invented 17 years ago by Reginald Capitalism. When attending a barter market, Reginald happened upon a gentleman who wanted to exchange two piglets for eleven yarns of Reginald's celebrated wool. Instead of this, Reginald proposed that the gentleman give him several circular pieces of brass (that would be provided to the gentleman by Reginald himself at a fixed rate of interest) in exchange for the wool and that Reginald return the pieces of brass for the piglets. Confused and somewhat put off, the gentleman declined to partake of this new form of exchange. However, Reginald's idea eventually caught on and the value of things have since become increasingly free form and experimental, like a kind of economic Bee Bop improvisation by a particularly demented saxophonist who is tripping off his head on acid and trying to exorcise the monkey on his back.

In some quarters, thanks to capitalism, the value of things and the transactions of those things have become so avant-garde that things that don't exist are being bought and sold with imaginary pieces of brass.

There are said to be whirling dervishes in Wall street, ensuring that faith triumphs over reality. Let's hear it for Capitalism!