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Saturday Night In South Park

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caldrail

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Ah yes, saturday night. A time for fun, frolics, or if like me you're an unemployed self-made noble accused by the police of being a fantasist, a great time to watch back to back episodes of South Park. After midnight, with or without alcohol, you begin to appreciate the true message of our two dimensional chums from Colorado. I learned something today.

 

The usual crowd of late night wallies migrate from one watering hole to another. Some laugh, others squabble, but mostly they make loud noises. I have no idea what these noises mean. I suspect, after all this repitition, that they've long since forgotten but do it anyway because otherwise they'd have nothing to do between drinking holes. This is saturday night you know.

 

Then I heard one wally with slightly less alcohol in his blood. "The truth is he doesn't do anything." He explained to his mate. I assume he was talking to his mate because otherwise he'd be talking to himself, and as we all know, that's sad.

 

I see... So... I don't do anything... It's a funny thing but I seem to be dogged by that sort of comment. It's almost as if some people are too envious or too dismissive to accept that my claims are genuine. That's gone on for years, with one self appointed biographer after another proclaiming that I 'm not what I say I am. If I was a bit paranoid, I would probably come to the conclusion that these individuals are secretly coached in dismissal techniques, choreographed by experts to make their announcements during the silent moment between television adverts, and spend the rest of their week practising in front of a mirror.

 

It's becoming very puzzling to me. Despite being a fairly honest chap, it's as if authority can't accept that I'm telling the truth. Policemen see my report of a stolen car as a cry for attention. Doctors are trying to tell me to stop smoking when I haven't inhaled from one of those stupid tar-sticks in my life ever. Claims advisors pull me to one side and try to persuade me that it's in my interest to be truthful. No, I tell a lie. It's getting a bit irritating.

 

But what exactly is it that I don't do? Well I grant you that it's been quite a long time since I was frenetically gigging as a rock drummer but I'm working on that problem. Please be a little bit patient, I'm not as young as I was. Coping with twisted music leads does get tougher as you get older. Oh come on... Stupid cable... Gah!

 

Nor do I fly aeroplanes anymore. That's simply because as an unemployed person the government won't pay me enough money to do that. Nor can I drive sports cars anymore for much the same reason, though it helps if my car doesn't get stolen. I therefore conclude that the spirit is willing but the wallet is subject to government control. Trust me, Mr Policeman, that's not a fantasy.

 

Doing Stuff - My Big Plan

With my reputation as a person who does things now ripped to shreds, I have no choice but to respond to that challenge. That's what blokes are supposed to do, isn't it? You know, beat your chest, shout louder, and if all else fails get yourself arrested so you can tell your mates afterward what you did last saturday night. God forbid they find out you didn't do anything.

 

After much tapping of fingers on the desk I decided to make an action plan. All the agencies that have trained me to find work have taught me to make action plans. Carefully work out the optimal strategy.... What is the desired result... How can I achieve it?... Which steps must I take in order to make this plan come to fruition?

 

After realising that I was beginning to sound like Adolf Hitler in his Berlin hideaway, and considering that world domination by next weekend probably isn't a realistic plan anyway, I then decided to head for the fridge and a cool refreshing drink. Oh yes. Drinking is what you do on a saturday night. I know, because everyone outside reminds me every week.

 

Done Stuff - My Big Reminder

Oh yeah... That hit the spot... Just in time for the next episode of South Park. So what is it that I'm supposed to learn from all this denigration and denial? Is it a lesson about conformity? Am I being cajoled into some adolescent struggle for placement in the pecking order of saturday night revellers? Is this an attempt to rescue me from middle aged mediocrity? Is someone trying to persuade me to take a certain action by way of deconstructing my self esteem?

 

Dunno. Don't care. You see, if I were to build my self-worth, or indeed my public image, on the basis of acting on other peoples whims, in what way am I worth anything? Do you see how self defeating it is to surrender to peer pressure? I think it's someone else who needs to learn a lesson. As for me, I'll continue to express my individuality, choice, and freedom to pursue my lawful interests without undue interference. Next episode of South Park comin' right up after the break.

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