…some old news
(I wrote this a couple of weeks ago before I got Covid for the second time, before the local elections which I lost, and it puts my teeth on edge. I am publishing it because there are a few cynical phrases which, with some human polish, could be adapted to work. Don’t read it if you’re easily disgusted by an author’s self-indugence.)
Apologies dear readers for the break in transmission! I guess I’ve been on mute. It’s not as if I haven’t been watching YOU, I always do. After all, I’ve been convinced for years that I am probably from another planet, or possibly dead and hadn’t noticed it. Hey this isn’t evidence of some encroaching mental illness – just boring, standard Outsider Syndrome, and I do realise and appreciate that you suffer from it as well.
As an Outsider I watch the games Humans play, sometimes with all my fingers in my mouth. Being an Alien I have fifty-four of them. I mean, how absurd and tragic that Humans seem to need to indulge in War, Plague, destroying their own climate, wallowing in testosterone and serotonin and spending half their lives interfering with their own and other people’s crotches.
It’s rather like the drunken smoker setting light to his bedclothes and falling asleep.
Forgive me but I need to observe you so I can make you characters in my life.
So my contribution to the mayhem has been to keep writing, submitting my RAGAZZO to agents and publishers; joining in one political party’s attempts to control the madness (guess which), teaching people how to protect their bodies from idiots, listening to Baroque Opera. Oh, and polishing swords just in case Mr Putin comes to call.
Yes I know a sword is no damn use against the Russian wanker, but Seppuku may be.
And on the subject of life and death: Nah. I’ve got nothing of relevance to say about those two. Except, of course, this most important of revelations, gained sitting cross-legged on a turtle:
Life is Death’s way of propagating itself; and vice versa.
Maybe you knew that.
So, in case you are a Literary Agent nosing into my website in order to discover how many millions follow my blog, allow me to say this: RAGAZZO IS A DARN GOOD READ and I’ve read lots of good reads. And in case you are a Tory Candidate in Hounslow nosing into my blog to see if you can find any skeletons in my closet: MY CLOSET IS FULL OF SKELETONS JUST LIKE YOU. Actually that’s not true but don’t tell them. Giggling emoji.
I’m most unlikely to be selected by the absurd electoral system, as I am dead or an Alien – despite the fact that most of the Local Councillors fall into one or both of those categories. I am therefore available for weddings, bar mitzvahs, cupboards and barbecues. See you on the spit.
I miss you. x
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