I added a new page to my blog yesterday which – unsurprisingly, considering the sheer lack of content – has only been viewed once. This page is where I plan to show off my favourite novels, newspapers and any other literature I haven’t already proselytised about in the main blog. I only have one entry at the moment, but I shall add more in due course. I was also thinking of adding a “Recommeded Listening” section as well, where I draw a picture of David Bowie on my crotch and do pelvic thrusts over and over again straight into your face until you panic and click the top-right hand X, never to return to Los Davies Pisomojado Paradise. I wouldn’t blame you.
I have not read a lot of Hunter S. Thompson for reasons unknown, since I already know the man is a genius and is yet another of those journalist-cum-novelists I love so much (like Orwell and Vonnegut); but on reading the wikipedia entry on his most famous novel – Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas – I realised that Thompson and I are more alike than I thought. Actually, I would go so far as to say that the time spent reading this wikipedia article changed my opinion of my own life-philosophy. Let me expand – the entry goes into detail on the themes of the novel, one of which is Thompson’s hypocritical, self-contained-but-conflicting views on the use of drugs:
The preface quotes Dr. Johnson: He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man. The quotation alludes to the protagonists’ profuse drug use in escaping the coarse realities of American life; passages detail the failed Counterculture, people who naïvely thought drug use per se was the answer to society’s problems. The contradiction of solace in excess is thematically similar to The Great Gatsby, a favourite novel of Thompson’s.
H. S. Thompson posits that his drug use (unlike Dr Leary’s mind-expansion experimentation drug use), is intended to render him a mess; that he is the poster boy of a generation of “permanent cripples, failed seekers…”; their erratic behaviour depicts the restless failure his generation feels.
I have written before about how much I like the verb “articulate”, and this section of the encyclopaedia entry managed to collate, express and truly articulate my own immature take on what are essentially conflicting opinions. People think I am a hypocrite. Similarly, Thompson is hypocritical; but what this new perspective has given me is a good cover story. I often say that from working in a bar, where I watch people get tanked and make a complete dick of themselves – same faces, same days, same drinks, same hangovers, same disdain from the eye of the ever watchful barman – has made me wary of alcoholism, and – to a degree – staunchly against drinking to excess. However, the same disdainful eye gets restless; the disdainful eye is blind to its own excesses as its pupil dilates into no more than a forgotten black spot on this frequent binge-drinker’s face. However, thanks to Thompson, I can now claim that my bodily excesses are no less than religious fervor: a lamenting prayer for all those who drink to slightly less damaging levels than I do, but are rich enough not to care about it, and old enough not to do too much damage to their long term health; the stomach pump my Eucharist! Excellent.
I would also like to make the point that I think I would make an excellent tranny. Sometimes, when I’m on the bus, and I see people I knew vaguely from school – such as MagTag on her Tabac Run every 27 minutes – they don’t recognise me. Usually this is because I am trannied out my face. What I mean by this I’m not sure; but I would totally make a great pretend woman. I like playing with my hair, so that’s totally sorted; and sometimes when (stupid, needlessly drunk, rich) women leave little jackets and shit in the cloakroom at work, then never return for them; I like to try them on. Sometimes I like to take them home, and wear them as man’s clothes, but they’re totally not man’s clothes! Skinny jeans are immoral, but I’m not the most moral of people anyway (see above). I like when clothes make me feel more immoral than I am. Thus, I think that I should just book the operation now to save any hassle; though apparently it’s now quicker and easier to get a full blown sex change than to work your way to the top of the council housing list…