I couldn’t be described as anything but a regular and heavy smoker. It is not something I am particularly proud of, nor is it something I feel too much shame over- it is simply, for the moment, how it is.
And of course, lectures come in both ears about how it is killing you and how its costing you money and how you should quit right now, if at all possible.
This harassment comes, more often that not, from non-smokers; those who can’t possibly comprehend the joy of a cigarette, from time to time.
I hole no illusions that it is a cool or glamorous habit, that all died with Bogart, but it is something that helps me level out, and in my mind at very least, eases some sort of tension.
Well, besides life being to stressful to ever quit, and the fact that of course all smokers know of the dangers it is not simply a matter of chucking away the cigs.
As any smoker knows cigarettes are to be enjoyed with an array of other activities and substances, and it is for this reason, I can’t quit. These activities and substances are:
1. Coffee-
As much of a nicofiend as I am, caffeine is right there with it. If I go the day without a cup I can be expected to be asleep by the mid afternoon. And there is nothing better than a cig with a hot cup of coffee, so, if I were to give up cigs, id also have to give up coffee.
2. Booze-
The drunker you get, the more smokes you crave. I am at my chain-smoking best when I am 10 beers for the better. How often do smokers wish to be outdoors at the various drinking venues they frequent, for no other reason than to puff, puff, puff. So, id also have to give up drinking. Shucks!
3. Sex-
Having just enjoyed the most carnal of delights, feeling drained and happy is the perfect time to light up. As your nerves tingle and twitch and you come back to earth…in and out. Ho Hum.
4. Food-
As a passionate smoker, you find your interest in food goes. But when you are hungry, the best way to cap off a meal is with a cigarette.
5. Anxiety Attacks-
Of course I would love to be rid of these pesky devils, but as it is, it is out of my hands. And so, when one strikes, I must be sure to have my Bensons for medicine.
To give up those things would be a virtual impossibility for someone as stuck in life as I am. I have no doubt though, one day, the world will be more balanced and I will be able to throw my dirty little habit down the shitter where, most would argue, it belongs.
Of course there are natural drawbacks to;
Stairs are now my enemy, I break a sweat when I check the mail, I am the leper of high society and smell like an ashtray 24 hours a day, my fingers and teeth are a healthy yellow and the shower is as much a means to stay hygienic as a daily coughing fit.
Still, oral fixations and turbulent times as they are, this isn’t enough to break the habit. Yet.
NP.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Action movies: Sheer enjoyment or Sheer Hysterics
For one reason or another, most people like those cheesy 80s action movies, the kind where the hero is actually a badass with his heart in the right place, super-duper mobile phones the size of egg cartons and the guy with the glasses is usually the weak computer guy who fucks shit up with data.
I have, in my extensive…research, come across two schools of thought regarding these cinematic works of genius and why we watch them.
1. The genuine enjoyment.
This is the school that watches the movies for no other reason than they enjoy them. It is not as if any of them take what is happening as ultra-realism, or even think they are particularly well made. It is simply that disbelief is suspended (or perhaps retarded) to such a degree that they genuinely enjoy the stories. Whats not to enjoy about Steven Seagal killing the odds and the foes?
This is the method that most people watch movies. They watch them as they were intended to be watched, as an 80s audience might have watched them before technology made their look redundant and rules on safety curbed the absurdity of the stunts.
This group, is in my opinion, the minority; the real purists who can overlook the plot-holes and technical flaws and enjoy the movie for the movie.
2. The action as a comedy.
This is the majority of us who watch “Commando” to see Arnold row a boat to Mexico faster than a sea-plane (in leather undies no less) and laugh our balls off at it.
In contrast to the above group we thrive on the absurdity, the poorly thought out stories, budget limitations, technical errors and shitty acting. It isn’t an action so much as a black comedy, where hundreds of people die but their lives don’t seem to matter when compared to the hilarity of the slapstick lead.
What could be funnier than a hyped up action oozing with melodrama? I don’t know…
NP
I have, in my extensive…research, come across two schools of thought regarding these cinematic works of genius and why we watch them.
1. The genuine enjoyment.
This is the school that watches the movies for no other reason than they enjoy them. It is not as if any of them take what is happening as ultra-realism, or even think they are particularly well made. It is simply that disbelief is suspended (or perhaps retarded) to such a degree that they genuinely enjoy the stories. Whats not to enjoy about Steven Seagal killing the odds and the foes?
This is the method that most people watch movies. They watch them as they were intended to be watched, as an 80s audience might have watched them before technology made their look redundant and rules on safety curbed the absurdity of the stunts.
This group, is in my opinion, the minority; the real purists who can overlook the plot-holes and technical flaws and enjoy the movie for the movie.
2. The action as a comedy.
This is the majority of us who watch “Commando” to see Arnold row a boat to Mexico faster than a sea-plane (in leather undies no less) and laugh our balls off at it.
In contrast to the above group we thrive on the absurdity, the poorly thought out stories, budget limitations, technical errors and shitty acting. It isn’t an action so much as a black comedy, where hundreds of people die but their lives don’t seem to matter when compared to the hilarity of the slapstick lead.
What could be funnier than a hyped up action oozing with melodrama? I don’t know…
NP
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Spendaholic.
For some, perhaps questionable reason, the only time I seem able to save a dollar is when I don’t have one. In times of financial strain I will, every once in a while, think to myself; ‘wow, I could be saving a lot now’. Then, true to my nature, I get two dollars to rub together and they are out of the palm as soon as they came.
For a 21 year old male with only a smoking and mild drinking habit (and none of the get-broke-quick ghastly vices that send people to the poorhouse in the blink of an eye) I burn through money with a frightening pace.
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause of my excessive spending, but I do have a number of theories.
One of which is a deep seated mental issue, perhaps a dire need to distract myself from the horrors of living with expensive shiny things. As one with a nervous disposition and a personality resume clogged with worried hang-ups, it is only natural that I should want to fill the void. Thus far, the presence of ‘stuff’ has soothed many of this worry-warts mind burns, at least in the short-term.
It also seems to be associated with a need to be completely fulfilled at all times; free from yearning for even a single thing within the realms of possibility, so that most times of day I have each and every thing I am after. If I want something I don’t have, I am hardly realistic about it. I preoccupy my thoughts and bargain with myself, and indeed my bankroll, to figure out a possible way I could attain said item.
Another factor is my childishness. I am unable, on most days, to see things reasonably. I throw an emotional tantrum within myself until I get that which I desire. Much like a toddler bartering with his mother for a frozen treat, though I am both parent and child. The parent is the small grown up fragment of myself, the responsible one, the one that always loses the battle with the persistent and needy child.
The final major contributor to my economic recklessness is my prolonged exposure to life as a bachelor. It was, for a long while, my standpoint that if something couldn’t be bought at a smoke-shop, service station or convenience store it wasn’t worth having.
Couple with this my, until recently, student status and you have the makings of one who won’t go within one hundred meters of a supermarket or green grocer.
God forbid I give up on my literary ambitions and become gainfully employed, as there is nothing a spendaholic enjoys more than a regular stream of income. In some twisted way it’s better to squander a stockpile than a series of instalments; as I suppose the idea is that instalments coincide with the regular things that need paying.
After many a spending binge I have often wondered where the money went. I have appropriate guilt about it, but not so much guilt it will stop me doing it again. It is certainly a vicious cycle, by which I get money, spend it immediately and wait for more. It is not conducive to assets or responsibilities, and that is regrettable.
Still it is enjoyable enough, it is not until the money is gone that I really fret about it, and even then it is a momentary thing. It could be worse, I could be gambling. At least this way I have a bedroom floor of empty booze bottles and cig packets to show for it. Though I suppose a floor cluttered with dead horse track tickets is no more pathetic.
And, as a good friend once enlightened to me of his own voracious attitude toward money, ‘that is what it’s for’.
For a 21 year old male with only a smoking and mild drinking habit (and none of the get-broke-quick ghastly vices that send people to the poorhouse in the blink of an eye) I burn through money with a frightening pace.
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause of my excessive spending, but I do have a number of theories.
One of which is a deep seated mental issue, perhaps a dire need to distract myself from the horrors of living with expensive shiny things. As one with a nervous disposition and a personality resume clogged with worried hang-ups, it is only natural that I should want to fill the void. Thus far, the presence of ‘stuff’ has soothed many of this worry-warts mind burns, at least in the short-term.
It also seems to be associated with a need to be completely fulfilled at all times; free from yearning for even a single thing within the realms of possibility, so that most times of day I have each and every thing I am after. If I want something I don’t have, I am hardly realistic about it. I preoccupy my thoughts and bargain with myself, and indeed my bankroll, to figure out a possible way I could attain said item.
Another factor is my childishness. I am unable, on most days, to see things reasonably. I throw an emotional tantrum within myself until I get that which I desire. Much like a toddler bartering with his mother for a frozen treat, though I am both parent and child. The parent is the small grown up fragment of myself, the responsible one, the one that always loses the battle with the persistent and needy child.
The final major contributor to my economic recklessness is my prolonged exposure to life as a bachelor. It was, for a long while, my standpoint that if something couldn’t be bought at a smoke-shop, service station or convenience store it wasn’t worth having.
Couple with this my, until recently, student status and you have the makings of one who won’t go within one hundred meters of a supermarket or green grocer.
God forbid I give up on my literary ambitions and become gainfully employed, as there is nothing a spendaholic enjoys more than a regular stream of income. In some twisted way it’s better to squander a stockpile than a series of instalments; as I suppose the idea is that instalments coincide with the regular things that need paying.
After many a spending binge I have often wondered where the money went. I have appropriate guilt about it, but not so much guilt it will stop me doing it again. It is certainly a vicious cycle, by which I get money, spend it immediately and wait for more. It is not conducive to assets or responsibilities, and that is regrettable.
Still it is enjoyable enough, it is not until the money is gone that I really fret about it, and even then it is a momentary thing. It could be worse, I could be gambling. At least this way I have a bedroom floor of empty booze bottles and cig packets to show for it. Though I suppose a floor cluttered with dead horse track tickets is no more pathetic.
And, as a good friend once enlightened to me of his own voracious attitude toward money, ‘that is what it’s for’.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
On the commonwealth games; sham or scam?
Is it me? Or are the Commonwealth Games a big croc of bullshit? It is that time of year again, sports fans, or more appropriately that time of four years. The games that people make too big a deal of, each and every time.
Now, admittedly, I am not the most sports savvy. As a general rule, if its not womens tennis, I don’t want to know about it. But these games must be seen as they are; a nonsense sporting event with too big a support network.
I can see it now, some 70 years ago, a group of sporting fat-cats sitting around dreaming up events that can fill the void between Olympics.
Oh, and America is the only nation of any promise and potential that is denied entry.
Finally, I hear scores of Canadian, British and yes, even my fellow Australians crying, it is our time to shine.
Perhaps my ill-feeling toward these prestigious and celebrated games comes from my ill-feeling toward the queen, monarchy and commonwealth itself. I don’t, and never will, understand why her majesty merits a place on our currency, why her flag deserves a place on ours and why we need to celebrate her faux birthday each and every year (in which an Independence Day would serve the same purpose).
My lack of love for Lizzy comes, undoubtedly, from my hatred of people being undeservedly praised. I dislike her as I dislike Paris Hilton, besides being rich she has no entitlement to any sort of fame or power (and it is just as well the old bat is just a figurehead, as she certainly doesn’t understand those who break their backs for a living).
The games have taken the sting and glory out of the Olympics, an event that definitely warrants more fan-fare and is at very least an equal playing field.
The hype around the games is entirely too much, people give way too much of a shit. Add to this there is the Commonwealth Youth games and winter games, it seems just a way for people to clog the sporting arteries with lackluster events that are entirely over hyped. So the money can keep rolling in and the athletes can win more gold.
Its all mutton dressed up as lamb, and I am sure the market men think long and hard about how they can con people into believing that this is some sort of big deal.
NP.
Now, admittedly, I am not the most sports savvy. As a general rule, if its not womens tennis, I don’t want to know about it. But these games must be seen as they are; a nonsense sporting event with too big a support network.
I can see it now, some 70 years ago, a group of sporting fat-cats sitting around dreaming up events that can fill the void between Olympics.
Oh, and America is the only nation of any promise and potential that is denied entry.
Finally, I hear scores of Canadian, British and yes, even my fellow Australians crying, it is our time to shine.
Perhaps my ill-feeling toward these prestigious and celebrated games comes from my ill-feeling toward the queen, monarchy and commonwealth itself. I don’t, and never will, understand why her majesty merits a place on our currency, why her flag deserves a place on ours and why we need to celebrate her faux birthday each and every year (in which an Independence Day would serve the same purpose).
My lack of love for Lizzy comes, undoubtedly, from my hatred of people being undeservedly praised. I dislike her as I dislike Paris Hilton, besides being rich she has no entitlement to any sort of fame or power (and it is just as well the old bat is just a figurehead, as she certainly doesn’t understand those who break their backs for a living).
The games have taken the sting and glory out of the Olympics, an event that definitely warrants more fan-fare and is at very least an equal playing field.
The hype around the games is entirely too much, people give way too much of a shit. Add to this there is the Commonwealth Youth games and winter games, it seems just a way for people to clog the sporting arteries with lackluster events that are entirely over hyped. So the money can keep rolling in and the athletes can win more gold.
Its all mutton dressed up as lamb, and I am sure the market men think long and hard about how they can con people into believing that this is some sort of big deal.
NP.
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