And we all know, cats are always right...
The program also led onto a discussion at work about Ghosts and the like. Again, I am highly skeptical of the existence of things that cannot be proved by the rigorous dry reasoning of SCIENTIFIC TESTING. Things like Ghosts. Ghosts and 'spiritual guides'. Why do ghosts and spiritual guides always come as stock characters? Think about it. Lauren's friend's mum apparently has two spiritual guides, a Native American and an Ancient Greek. Now, call me skeptical again, but how can she even begin to understand what these guides are even saying? Does she speak ancient Greek or Navajo or Cree or Cherokee? Most likely not, so how can she follow the spirit's advice? The reason these 'guides' have been chosen is because they are the layman's approximation of intelligence in history. Everybody has heard how wise the Greeks were, well, along with bumming, they invented maths and that Plato fella invented psychology or physiology or something clever beginning with P and ending in ology. And we've all seen Dances With Wolves
, those Indian chaps must be clever with their quiet meditative ways and their wind catchers and diminishing supplies of buffalo. Well, they couldn't out smart fucking small pox or fire water could they? But it's the same with ghosts, people always see ghosts of 18th Century Gentlemen or Nuns, little Victorian Girls or Roman soldiers (as here in York). When Ghosts are reported they are always something historically recognisable. Why do people never report seeing ghosts of 6th Century Anglo-Saxon peasants tilling the fields or a 1980's Yuppie who died from a coke overdose after a particularly hard fought merger and acquisition? Why are spirit guides never ancient Phoenicians or Cuthbert the peasant from the 13th century who worked in the local dung smithy? Why? Because the general public don't know they even existed. Since the general public's view of history is tempered by Television, most particularly BBC costume dramas and Dickens adaptations, there's no wonder people make these connections when they see a 'ghost' or call up their local Spiritual Guide.
Would you trust this man with your dead Grandmother?
Further to the other day's Road Rage, Lauren and I have noticed an alarming trend that occurs on the A59 every morning between the hours of 7am and 9am and 4pm and 6pm. It's name is enough to strike terror deep into the heart of any driver, Howard Carter had his Curse of the Pharaohs, we York commuters have the Curse of the Farmer! Yes, everyday at precisely 7am and 4pm the local farmers decide it is time to start driving tractors towing trailers packed to the brim with hay or potatoes or pig shit or anthrax infected sheep carcasses up and down one of the busiest roads to York at the busiest time of the day. The farmer drives his tractor down one lane whilst his high foreheaded, web toed, idiot son drives down the other lane in the opposite direction. They reach the roundabouts at the ends of the A59, circle them and head back on themselves at precisely 14 Miles per hour. The cars are backed up to Thirsk and Huntington full of sweating, swearing commuters desperate to get to work on time or to get home for the night. If it wasn't for these bastards we'd be home in about twenty minutes.
Get out of my fucking way you backwards animal fucking cunts!
3 comments:
Well done, you are back to being interesting again. I agree with your thoughts on the paranormal or whatever it is. I watched a bit of a Derren Brown programme once where he drew a picture then got a member of his audience to draw a picture. They had both drawn pictures of cats, now you could say that Brown used thought control to make the audience member draw a cat. After all, that is why (idiots) love him and pay to watch him. Or you could say it was all a con and that the guy he pulled fromt he audience drew a cat because Brown had told him to before the show.
I remember when we watched Britain's Most Haunted at your place in Dublin, you weren't so sceptical then, in fact you were so scared you wet yourself everywhere.
I saw a ghost once. It was an old gentleman in Elizabethan clothes carrying his decapitated head under his arm. Or was he dragging a ball and chain and going, 'Wooooooh'? I can't exactly remember but I was well bricking it, I can tell you.
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