Excecute Plan 66

I watched a doco on the guys who were in the 4th airplane of the 9/11 attack. The people in the plane fought back, and they diverted the plane from hitting the White house. While this is extremely brave, its not what im going to talk about here.

Im going to talk about Plan 66. In the situation that I die, without having a chance to say anything to anyone, I want Plan 66 to go into usage. I’ll add to this list as time goes on, but I’ll make no big whoop about it. Its really only here in case of an emergency.

Some of these things I expect you to do, others are just little things that would be fun lol. I think you’re a good judge of character, I’ll let you decide what’s tangible and what’s not.


TO BE DONE IMMEDIATLY AFTER DEATH

- Tell HER (and tell no-one that you did)

- Show people this blog (you may as well, wont be much use otherwise lol)

- I’m an organ donor, so I’ll have no body to bury…but give me some sort of plaque, I need something to make jokes on.

- Keep the legacy going; preach the truth about the importance of balance and the proof of God (the Rules of Life)

- Buy Cav a bottle of something nice from my funds; ditto McVilly and Broadbent

- Visit Lenin’s tomb and leave something there for him from me- Keep the book idea alive

- Tell Felix from the Cat Empire that I’d have his children if I wasn’t six-feet-under

FUNERAL ARRANGMENTS/IDEAS (you can take it all out of my funds lol)

- I want a stick-figure hazard sign representation of HOW I died on my tombstone

- I don’t want a particularly good song to be ruined at my funeral. Something like ‘Power of Your Love’ or ‘Exit Music (for a film)’ would be EXTREMLY fitting, but it’d ruin it for everyone…hmmm, let me meditate on that.

- Kyle, Chris, and someone from Glycerine must give some sort of eulogy. You guys must speak…also, Bek or Mon maybe.

- My skull must be cleaned and Adam must do the ‘Alas, poor Yorrick’ soliloquy from Hamlet with it.

- I want a sax quartet at my funeral

- And an acapella choir

- I want a tomb with a boulder rolled in front of it

Some Leunig For Ya

I have here today, two Leunig cartoons. Now, I've never really gotten into Leunig, but these two really stuck out for me.


This first one is SO dark and cold; it was so beautful to read (didnt expect this kind of thing from a Leunig):




The other is my favourite cartoon in the entire world, because it represents EXACTLY how I feel about my beliefs. Also, that last little square of it is just so...hmm, no real word to decribe it. I guess beautiful will do...

I Am the Walrus

"The time has come!" the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax,
Of cabbages and kings!
And why the sea is boiling hot,
And whether pigs have wings." --The Walrus and the Carpenter, C.S Lewis

What would happen if the entire world froze for a moment? Not literally; I mean everything stayed as it was. We didn’t grow older, relationships didn’t change, school was always there, the house stayed stable etc.

I guess we’d get to know each other a lot better; probably to the point where we’d want to kill each other! Probably because relationships are meant to be fleeting.

Relationships are like a computer game where you have to collect the most amount of good memories you can in the short space of time.

When a relationship is ended, two things run through your head. What will happen to them, and what will happen to you. After 9 months, it’s like getting an umbilical chord pulled out of you. Yes, It's losing a comfort, but the baby cant learn to eat with its chord still attached.

My thoughts are running to what’ll happen to her. I really worry she’s so fragile. The fact that she acts so strong just makes me so sad. Im so scarred she’s gonna end up with some tosspot that’ll abuse her, I can see it happening in my own head. Makes me sick.

I also worry her next guy wont be as forgiving as I was. She’s so honest lol, she tells you EXACTLY what you are with no holds barred. I mean, I got cut deep A LOT in this relationship, but I understood she knows no better. I just pray that when she tries it in the future she won’t just get slapped for it.

I worry about her future, what she will become. The only ambition she has, she doesn't even understand. It’s like she wants to become something grand without trying, or learning. She doesn't accept help, and that’ll kill her as well.

I want to be there to protect her, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep giving and giving and giving when I get nothing back from her but what she feels like giving. I specifically chose to be the bitch in this relationship, because I actually cared about her…while she cared about me, she never showed it (she never really knew how to).

She opened up to me once. I got a glimpse of the girl I never got to know. The one curled up in the corner of her mind, wildly swinging a machete if you get too close. I touched that girl, comforted her. Once. Never again, the iron bars were pulled back about an hour later. That was all I’d wanted, to help…

That’s the problem with the girls I get involved with. I end up almost pitying them, it’s terrible. Even though it’s the only emotion we truly feel for people that isn’t a sinful one (anger, envy, lust). I guess I want a person who I can protect. Grab the pump and self-inflate my ego. But there comes a point where you realise the person you pity is yourself (for having the audacity to pity somebody in the first place!). Ironic, neh?

Now all that’s left for me to do is the moment of scission. Im gonna take the scissors and tear the painting. Im gonna go C.S Lewis on her. Im gonna slip our relationship off this mortal coil…and its gonna kill me.

With the snip of the scissors, she’ll think she hurts. I hope she notices the blood running down my arm. The IV drip being pulled out.

There's only so much one man can give; and with the end so near, all I want to give is more.

Ironic, neh?

26 Degrees South-East

The sun was setting. The golden brilliance splayed across the ocean horizon like a three year old had painted it using only yellow.

On the immense ocean there was but one lone figure; an old man in his boat. A brown dot on a canvas of blue and gold.

The old man had spent the whole day fishing. He had caught one fish, and was making his way…

“…home! 26 degrees south-east!” sighed the boat “I cant wait. The soft lapping of the waves in my moor, the warm night currents, the relaxation…home truly is where the heart is! 26 degrees south-east!”

The old man pondered what the boat had said. “You know; I’ve spent every single day of my life doing the same thing. I get up, I go fishing, I catch a single fish, I go home and I clean it and eat it. That’s it. Everyday”.

He then stood up. “Every day I start my life anew. Every day I do the same old thing. Every day I am happy, and every night I think about how happy I will be tomorrow. When I think of home, I don’t think of the shack on land! I think of the sea”

The sea growled in approval.

The boat gave the man a strange look (it was a very well-constructed boat). “Stop your rambling, old man! 26 degrees south-east!”

The old man looked at the horizon and squinted. His wrinkled face gained another several lines of lines. “Look, boat! A storm is brewing in the west! They say that God Himself faces west!”

The sea grumbled in agreement.

The storm clouds started to blot out the sun. On the horizon, big chunks of energy were seen to be ripping through the clouds creating great geysers of water, the water turned from silken blue to devil-eyed black; it was a sight to be seen (and I don’t know much about storms, either!)

The man jumped about in the boat, laughing. His single-toothed mouth grinned in excitement. The action hurt him, he had never properly done that before. Smiled, yes; but grinned?! Never!

The boat was getting anxious. “Turn around now! 26 degrees south-east!”

The old man didn’t listen, and started to row towards the storm.

“Are you MAD?! Nothing will survive that storm! Im not even sure the OCEAN will survive that storm! It is the apocalypse! The end of the world! The very pot in which creation and destruction are the same! We’re going home, and getting you to bed! 26 DEGREES SOUTH-EAST!!”

The boat pulled the oars back against the old man. He was frail, but this idea had taken so much control of his mind that he didn’t care anymore. He strained against the boat, and the boat creaked and groaned under the effort.

SNAP! The oars broke!

"Never liked rowing anyway!” shouted the man over the growing din of the storm and sea meeting in combat. “I’ll let God Himself guide me!” he declared, getting out the sail and putting it up.

A strong south-east breeze blew through, and the boat began to splash elatedly. The wind would guide them home! “26 DEGREES SOUTH-EAST :D” it shouted joyfully.

RIP! The man tore a hole in the sail with his gutting knife!

“Bah, the winds in hell blow south-east! Plus, God only SHOWS us the door!” he said, and started to undress.

"No!" said the boat “I wont let you!!” The boat frantically tried to move its own rudder. For an inanimate object, it did a very good job. But the laws of nature state that something that isn’t alive cant propel itself, and its rudder BROKE with a SNAP!!

The old man was standing at the edge of the boat, naked as the day he was born, ready to jump in. He looked down at the boat, looked towards the approaching chaos and smiled.

…..SPASH…….

“Stupid old fool, he deserves his fate” said the boat, and turned 26 DEGREES SOUTH-EAST and started on home...

…but he found that his rudder didn’t work!

…and his sails would catch the wind!

…and his oars were broken!

…

..

.

The sun was setting. The angry blackness splayed across the ocean horizon like a three year old had painted it using only darkness.

On the immense ocean there was nothing; no old man nor a boat, nothing bright but the creation of lightning. Flashes of white on a canvas of black and grey.