Salve frater! (That's Latin for 'sup bro, a seamless fusion of street and snob) Welcome to the readerharbor, readership. Put down your readersails, allow your readersailors to disembark down the readergangway and drunkenly rampage through the womenfolk, leaving in their wake a trail of bastard children unable to accept the fact they are the offspring of a tenuous over stretched pun. This is the blog of myself, Detective Veritable Galanthus, packed full of rants, metaphors, anecdotes and general misanthropy. Enjoy your stay.
Showing posts with label demon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label demon. Show all posts

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Party Dark God


Cthulhu bringing chaos and madness to a pizza


Cthulhu bringing chaos and madness to public transport
Cthulhu bringing chaos and madness at home.
 It's the last day of half term, I have spectacularly procrastinated every piece of homework given to me until Sunday evening, I have come to the conclusion that I may have just wasted two weeks of my life and I spent a good portion of today feeling severely dehydrated due to excessive alcohol consumption at a party (which was, by the by, the reason why I did not write anything last night. Most of the creative juices flowing through my veins was vodka grape punch which tasted nice until I added popcorn, pizza, pickles, margarine and yogurt to the mix in a sudden fit of alchemical experimentation.)

In the end I decided I would attend the Halloween party dressed as HP Lovecraft's finest creation, Cthulhu, the octopus faced agent of madness and marine dwelling bringer of the apocalypse.


 Apparently Cthulhu was a little too obscure and though I originally explained that I was a madness inducing terrifying agent of the old gods whenever a random curious bystander asked what I was dressed as, soon I was overcome by the futility of the action and simply replied that I was a green octopus. If Cathulhu is out there, reading my blog, then I humbly beg for its mercy for not defending its honourable and terrifying name to the last. This would make it the second deity I offended that night seeing as I swore on the goddess Gaia two months ago that I shall never drink again. I await divine retribution with fear and a little bit of excited anticipation. In the meanwhile I shall receive retribution from my angry Scottish art teacher for the half term homework due in tomorrow that I am yet to complete. His wrath is potentially more terrifying than that of Cthulhu.

Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Modern

Well three cheers for the mobile age. Just minutes hence some vital emotional restrainer wound as a safety measure amongst the rusted gears that compose my mother's mind, after much straining, suddenly snapped. She declared that she had had more than enough of witnessing my idle wasting of life span and demanded that I go do my homework (which, rather predictably, I have procrastinated for the last ten days of my holiday). In order to enforce this she emphasized that I do not use the computer until I complete my allocated dose of work.

She was, however, utterly unaware of the capability of modern mobile phones due to the excellent work of which I am currently able to write this post without the clatter of keyboards or the squeal of the door to the study containing the computer. Thereby avoiding detection by my mother's bat like qualities (that is to say, she is capable of hitting people extremely hard and causing fatal injuries).

So hurrah to technology for making it easier to betray my mother's expectations. Thanks to the advances in science and with it the mobility of gadgets, I can now betray my mother where ever and when ever I so desire. I could fail to fulfill her optimistic expectations while on the move or while in my bed or even while on the toilet taking a shit. The possibilities are endless.

Of course as tools become more and more useful, the technology involved becomes more and more compact and complex. When I was a mere infant the only phone I handled was a tacky affair crudely constructed out of plastic yoghurt pots and string. It wasn't that useful but I roughly knew how it functioned and could easily articulate what had gone wrong if an error ocurred, usually by shouting something like "The strings gotten caught on the tree, you dipshit!"

However these days I carry a mobile phone around with me and when something goes wrong I haven't a hope in humid hell of comprehending its exact nature. Yes the screen says that I am in a place without signal but what actually is a signal? And how is it that I seem to get a signal if I move just three meters to my right? Is a signal like an invisible version of a string on my childhood yoghurt pot phone? If so, is there an invisible tree standing in the three meters between the area of acceptable reception and no reception? And who in this instance is the dipshit to be held accountable?

It does feel somewhat overly trusting and dangerous to depend so heavily on something whose inner workings are a complete mystery to you, nonetheless I will continue to utilize this technology because it is a tremendously useful tool.

For all I know there may be a complicated magical mystical system that allows me to send a text in exchange for a portion of my soul so that even as I needlessly transmit the three letters "LOL" in response to someone's utterly unamusing text, I'm dedicating a chunk of my very metaphysical spiritual existence to Satan. But I will still text "LOL" with a perfectly straight face regardless.

If you now think that continuous use of an unfathomable power is a stupid thing to do, think of it this way. If you were to interrogate Harry Potter (a fictional wizard who has now apparently become the unreachable role model for my generation) about how exactly magic works, he would probably break down and cry, confessing that really while he could cast spells, he had no idea of how the system actually functioned. Admitting, amongst much general weeping, that he just used the incomprehensible power of magic because it was useful and that he was the dipshit responsible.

But this ignorance did not stop him using magic to fight and defeat Voldemort in a severely anti climactic cinematic culmination of several years worth of pointless vacuous rubbish. Similarly I am not allowing my lack of knowledge to come between me and defeating my mother. Let the battle continue!  Let me be victorious! Hurrah for technology!