Tuesday, November 21, 2006

My GENEsis™

Far be it for me to diss God.

After all, God's omnipotent and that. But it seems to me that the whole orderGodcreatedtheworldin thing doesn't make a great deal of sense. Normally I wouldn't question The Almighty, per se, but God, if you're reading this, here's the order I think you should have done it in, just in case you're planning another. Here's My GENEsis

Day One: Light
Day Two:
Sun and moon and stars

Day Three:

Day Four:

Day Five:
Had a rest

Day Six:
Birds and sea creatures

Day Seven:
Land creatures and "man"

Creating light first obviously made everything else easier, anyone who has tried to find matches in a power cut will tell you that. I think God was spot on as far as creating light first is concerned, so a big thumbs up there. Plus it gave God night and day, a timescale to work with straight away. I mean we've all been there. Falling asleep, waking up wondering whether or not it's day or night. Clocks weren't part of the plan, neither were curtains, and nor was alcohol. This much we know. So whilst in hindsight light might seem the obvious thing to create first, we should give God praise where praise is due. God had to invent light first. No mean feat. God also made it really fast. But I'm not sure why.

I used to think the speed of light was the time it took for you to flick a light switch and the bulb to come on. I've lost count of the number of times I've stood, stopwatch in hand, SWITCHONSTARTLIGHTSTOP. When God created light They created fear. No-one should be afraid of the dark. What is the dark? It's nothing. Blackness. It's light you should be afraid of. Light should scare the shit out of you. Darkness should be embraced and thanked.

I know that some people say, "Why put off until tomorrow what you can do today?" Obviously, at this stage in creation, those people didn't exist, that's why God had never heard this statement before. To be honest, I don't normally listen to those sorts of people, because they're wankers. God is exactly like me in this respect, except the bit about thinking that they're wankers. God did the lazy version of creation. When God did it They tried to put off the boring tasks for a couple of days. Procrastination is an artform, it's just that no-one can be bothered to publicise it. In My GENEsis though, those wan...people were, or would have probably been, right. Once God had created light I think They would have been better off getting the more boring tasks out of the way. That way God could really get God's teeth into the stuff God needed to do later on in the week.

Not that it was called a week yet.

The sun and the moon wouldn't be too difficult. I'm thinking some sort of paper mâché affair for the moon, and an enormous flaming orange for the sun, but making all those stars must have been really boring. Of course I know what you're thinking.

Making stars? Boring? Are you mad?


The laying-down-plenty-of-newspaper-to-catch-the-extraneous-glitter process is one I'm totally aware of. But don't forget, every glitter star needs a dab of glue. Trillions of squillions of dabs of glue, tons of glitter. Do you have any idea how much a ton of glitter weighs? Thought not. So, you see, I'm right. There was absolutely no point trying to put it off until the fourth day. God should have got that shit out of the way as soon as possible.

Time is supposed to fly when you're having fun, so after the tedium of the second day, the third day was bound to fly by. I'm guessing that by the third day God would probably have been a bit parched, but rather than creating water I think land would have been the better option. It seems a bit shortsighted to create water then land.

1. Where are you going to put it?

2. It's not a good time to find out that you can't swim.

It's bad enough having to stand on a towel to make sure your feet are dry when you put your socks back on. Without land there wouldn't even be anywhere to put your towel. You'd be fucked. God would have got soaked creating water first, and there would have been nowhere to dry off for at least a day. Major pruniness. So it would be land first for me, every time. It's common sense. I can imagine the ribbing God got about the Land/Water Water/Land mix-up at God Meetings for millennia afterwards.

"Oh no."
"You didn't?"

Water on the fourth day is the natural follow up to land. It would have been a case of just filling in the gaps. Probably using some sort of giant ewer. All flamboyant and bejeweled with a flaring spout. A proper Godjug. Ace.

The fifth day should have been the rest day. God still had birds and sea creatures and land creatures to create. Instead of being absolutely knackered and knocking out a load of weird looking stuff, a day of rest would have been ideal. But I don't mean rest as in "do nothing". Maybe just kick back on some land, write a few lists, make a plan, design a few creatures, think things through, doodle if absolutely necessary. The next couple of days would determine what was going to populate the planet. So instead of making it look like a rush job (duck billed platypuses, wasps, horses) God could have made some creatures a bit more user-friendly (added steps, or zipped mouths, or detachable bottoms).

Not only that but if God had rested on the fifth day, Friday would be The Sabbath. Bonus.

On day six God would then be completely refreshed to create the beasts of the sea and the air, and on Sunday, I mean the seventh day, he would have had plenty of creature creating experience from the previous day to sort out cattle and what have you. Since it was always God's intention to make man in God's own image (apart from being able to fly - tut)), that job was sorted from day one. It stands to reason, if you were God and you created man on the seventh day instead of the sixth, you wouldn't have to worry about them fucking everything up on your day off.


Friday, November 17, 2006

Star Signs #1


The last couple of weeks have left you feeling as strange as a beard with no moustache. However, an older friend, or partner, or someone younger than you, possibly a stranger, may set you back on the right track. The full moon on the 23rd might well be the turning point in the month. Every day you get older. Your lucky name is Gregory and destiny sees you climbing a ladder with a bucket in both hands.


Cheer up, it may never happen. Except, perhaps, unfortunately, it already has, and in a big way. Sweep it under the carpet and you’re a fool to yourself, leave it out in the open and who knows? Give anyone an inch and before you know it they’ve taken a foot, much more than that and you haven’t got a leg to stand on. Fishy. Your lucky colour is cerise and destiny has you riding a horse naked.


The month starts well after the new moon on the 8th rising up to its peak, plateauing mid-month, falling slightly, stopping completely, turning round, remembering its left the gas on at home and then getting started again (although slightly slower than before). Someone with hair may ask your advice on a matter that could, inevitably, decide the future of the human race. So be careful. Your lucky animal is elk and destiny shouts your name from scaffolding.


Things may seem a little tight around the mid-month full moon, but resist the urge to prostitute yourself for the sake of a few pence (you’ve probably only got two kidneys!) Before the month is out, somewhere around the 25th, it’s quite possible that all your financial troubles will be temporarily behind you and someone who has recently been married may be asking to borrow money. Your lucky biscuit is lemon puff and destiny misreads a bus timetable.


The past mocks you like a backward cousin whilst the present and future conspire like two grotesque twin god-nieces. A chance meeting with K, R, N or A around the 3rd of the month (or the 4th to the 16th) could well be the start of a beautiful relationship, or at least a relationship or some sort, or maybe not. It’s difficult to say. Your lucky place is Battersea and destiny sees you crying like a baby.


Mixing friends and money is a little like asking Michael Jackson to judge a bonny baby competition right now. Laughter may be the best medicine but pride comes before a fall. Maybe it’s time to install that power shower you’ve wanted for so long or change your name by deed poll. Either way it’s generally the same old same old. Get a life. Your lucky fruit is kumquat and destiny has you reaching for a dictionary.


Due to a tricky aspect between Mars and Uranus it’s unlikely that you’ll be eating any chocolate for the rest of the year. That said, the future looks queerly optimistic. Nothing you do this month will go wrong, everyone will agree with everything you say, and you might as well try to get into the cinema without paying. It might just work! Don’t forget that Leos don’t believe in astrology. Your lucky profession is upholsterer and destiny spells the word trousers in sequins.


The legacy of November lives on throughout December. If you thought your love life couldn’t get any worse then think again. You’re as likely to meet a tall dark stranger as you are a midget albino stranger, or even one you know already. Take up a hobby. Buy a kite. Start collecting teaspoons. Count to three million. For crying out loud. Your lucky garment is a tunic and destiny sees a cloud shaped like an ice cream.


More than ever, like your sign, your life is a constant balancing act. There can sometimes be a fine line between fantasy and reality but the only way you’re likely to find out the difference is the hard way. For the time being you’re probably naïve enough to plod along at least appearing to acknowledge the difference between the two. Your lucky sense is smell and destiny buys you food which is approaching its sell by date.


Your love life might well be under the spotlight right now, but what you do in the privacy of your own home is of no concern to me. Either there’s a gloomy cloud on the horizon or I’ve just spilt some hot chocolate on my tarot cards. Just in case, ring all of your known living relatives every day for the whole month. I wouldn’t want anything on my conscience. Your lucky nut is almond and destiny sees you arrested for indecent exposure.


You’re at odds with the whole world this month. If the fists are flying then it’s probably down to you. Hardly surprising since everyone you speak to seems to want to take it outside. With Jupiter in Taurus being challenged by Neptune the whole thing is likely to go off in a big way. Do you want some? Your lucky drink is beer and destiny wins a beauty contest by accident.


Yesterday, all your troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Things can only get better. The only way is up. So come on feel the noise, girls grab the boys, we get wild wild wild. You’re lucky and density is the measure of a physical quantity per unit of length area or volume.

Saturday, November 11, 2006


Rubber stamping was the favourite part of Marlon's work. If something needed rubber stamping, Marlon was your man.

Although Marlon only owned two rubber stamps they were always inked up and ready for action. Because of the nature of Marlon's work for the Monopolies Commission his "ACCEPT" stamp didn't get
that much use whereas, at the other end of the stamping spectrum, barely a day went by without his "REJECT" stamp being hoisted down from its rack. That particular rubber stamp had to be replaced on a fairly regular basis such was the force with which he carried out his daily tasks. And when Marlon needed a new rubber stamp, he rang Phil Hart in office supplies.

Phil had big problems that morning, and he was annoyed. Not only had he just been in a car accident, but he also couldn't find a

Just after he had parked his car in his car parking space, his car had been hit by one of the office lorries. And when he got to his desk he decided that he would try to write down the sequence of events, as he had seen them, while they were still fresh in his memory. The only problem he was having was that he couldn't think of anything to write except that he had been hit by an oncoming stationery lorry.

And even removing the word oncoming didn't make it sound a lot better...

And he couldn't remember how to spell 'stationery' anyway...

And he didn't have a dictionary to hand.

But, for some unknown reason, he did have a thesaurus, so he checked it there...

But but even then, when he read it back to himself...

But but but
that was what had happened. Saying his car had been hit by a paper lorry sounded even worse.

This, then, was the moment that Phil tried to find a rubber, and couldn't find one.

The reason for this is because of what happens to rubbers.

When you use a pen, a biro, you write with it until you lose it, or it runs out of ink. Mainly when it runs out of ink, because a lost biro is never
really lost. Anyway, biro (I'm guessing biro are like sheep) are a different issue entirely. Basically they're cunts. A biro can run out at any moment. Whether they appear to have a whole barrel of ink, or there seems to be none at all, a biro can give up the ghost precisely when it wants to and exactly when you least want it to. A rubber, on the other hand, can only ever be lost. You can't use a rubber until it runs out. You can't use a rubber until there's no rubber left; until you've rubbed it into extinction.

What happens with rubbers is that you use them when they are new. Then, after a while, one day, when you're bored, you write your name on them, or your initials, but you do it backwards so that you can use the rubber as some sort of primitive printing device. Later still, when you're even more bored, you break the rubber in half, usually around the point where you had previously stuck a pencil, or a biro, or a pair of plotting compasses into it. At this stage you convince yourself that you now have two rubbers and, eventually, you break the two rubbers you now have in half again, and lose four rubbers, or you just lose the two rubbers that you thought you had.

Phil was annoyed because he hadn't even had the chance to write his name on it yet.

Friday, November 10, 2006

The Road

To a certain extent I owe my pleasant demeanour and general happy-go-luckiness to my nursery school teacher, Mrs Dab. The nursery, located just behind the launderette, was a portakabin, but, unlike the nursery, Mrs Dab was multi-story (sic). On sunny summer afternoons everyone would sit in the shade of The Old Oak Tree, just by the rubbish bins. After a while the smell adopted a therapeutic and sometimes even hypnotic/hallucinogenic effect.

Of all the stories Mrs Dab told only one has ever stuck in my memory. And this is it. The Road.


In a certain small village there was a certain road.

Not that there weren't any other roads, but this road was different.

It was different because no matter where you were going in the village; down to the chemist; shopping at the supermarket; visiting the doctor's surgery, there always seemed to be a better or quicker way of getting there.
As a result the road was barely used, if at all.

The road itself, though outwardly inanimate, had feelings. Most of the time it was under the impression that it wasn't really doing its job. In fact apart from keeping the pavements apart it did very little and the chances of it meeting of it getting any sort of promotion or meeting any nice looking minor A roads were slipping away, and it wasn't getting any younger.

Days passed, weeks passed, and time generally passed until one day, one very stormy day, the wind blew so hard that it blew the road clean away. It blew the road up and up and up and then carried it far far far away. And after it had been flying for many many many miles the road met up with gravity and it landed in the middle of a field.

The animals in the field could not make head or tail of this strange tarmaccy thing which had been thrust so suddenly upon them. They had all seen one before, and some of their late friends had, sadly, made some very close inspections. After a while though they all plucked up the courage to go and talk to the road. They soon found out that the road was very friendly and eventually ventured onto it, safe in the knowledge that they were not at any risk.

The days in the field passed quickly, and the road was really beginning to come to terms with its new friends, role, and general environment. Unfortunately after two weeks the field was bulldozed over to make way for a new housing estate.


Some people are incredibly impatient. They want it all and they want it all now. Give them an inch and they'll take a foot. What's wrong with them? Why can't they be happy with their lot? While some people are joining hands around the world and saying a prayer for the end to world hunger, there are others who would take the opportunity to try and set a new record for the biggest ever hokey-cokey.

Greed is a sickness which lies dormant in every person. Once woken, there is no cure. The only hope any of us have is that it can be sedated.