Sunday 28 December 2008

After The Storm

The end is nigh. Like God’s salvation of Noah, only the righteous shall be saved; the unholy will be condemned to eternal damnation. Take penance for your sins, and reject Satan to avoid this ghastly fate!


No, I doubt last-minute prayer will protect you from the ever-expanding abyss that threatens to engulf humanity; feigned contrition will land you in the Underworld, at the gates of Hades; sidestepping purgatory, and becoming a precedent for future generations – if any were to come into existence – of which to heed warning.


No, I second-guess myself. I am still undecided in regards to the afterlife. Where do we go? Does reincarnation exist? Are retributive souls doomed to wander the plains of Tartarus, or may they seek redemption on Earth? So many questions that will all continue to go unanswered…


I’d like to believe that the spirits of the ex-living are allowed to traipse the globe until the time comes when they feel that all has been accomplished. Physical involvement with humans (i.e. controlling the movement of people and objects, appearing to the living in tangible or visible form, etc), in my opinion, should the primary role for ones possessing ethereality. Then again, I have failed to establish the authenticity of “the supernatural”, including my own mind’s faith in it.


My urge to delve into the heavily disputed genre of legitimacy of incidents in the afterlife surfaces mainly due to a recent discovery of an art forum the other day. Concept themes consisted of time shifts, big vs. small and the perennially popular “Doomsday” idea. And it was amazing to see how diverse the interpretations of each theme were; big vs. small pieces ranged from the simplistic usage of a small animal in the foreground, juxtaposed against a larger counterpart that took up a large proportion of the background, to a more abstract-based observance of a prevalent stereotype (here, we see two males – one of black descent; the other, Caucasian – utilising the urinals in a public restroom. Though appendages are not made able to be seen, the look of incredulity upon the face of the white man is enough for the majority of the population to understand the artist’s humorous adaptation). The “Doomsday” posts displayed an even greater degree of variation; some took place in the midst of battle, some attempted to convey a sense of it being requisite to continue ordinary life, some portrayed “alien” life-forms as those responsible for the destruction of civilisation, with a few of these going as far in implying that these aliens have become overlords. My biggest surprise was the notable missed attendance of spectres roaming desolate lands. Does today’s youth not consider this a possibility anymore?


A hypothetical scenario: say the world were to end tonight, and for whatever reason, you survive and may continue living in this world after the events that brought its downfall. What do you see? What do you envisage has happened? Are there other survivors, or must you walk alone? Do certain monuments still stand tall? Does acrid smoke threaten to finish you off? And, most importantly; where are you, why did you survive, what will you do now, and, if it is your wish, how will you sustain your life?


So many questions…


Personally, I can never picture a scene such as this without being accompanied by a small number of companions. A few will be scared, and at their wits’ end; others, highly resourceful, and capable of constructing long-lasting shelters and scouring for food. And there’s always that one vivacious individual, who makes it seem as though life may be worth living.


Of course, numerous obstacles are posed too. At least one member of your party is gravely ill and has to be watched and assisted medically. Furthermore, another pair of members have conflicting values, resulting in them slinging death threats at each other. Finally, the true enemies are revealed to be pre-existing Earth-dwelling, mutated animals or creatures, such as giant spiders or rats. As you can see, I’ve been brainwashed by Hollywood cinema and video games that deal with these sorts of subject matters.


But what would a post-apocalyptic environment really look like? There is no one answer, and the assorted depictions stay true to this. Circumstance is key, as is time, location and the extent of damage caused. The short derivative is the aforementioned; the long derivative? Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see…

Wednesday 24 December 2008

Poetry In Motion: #5- The Present Of Presence

T’was the night before Christmas,
Or so I am told.

Frankly, all that I notice

Relates to the cold.


I don’t care much for Christmas,
Except for the fact
I receive much more money
And get to contact


All my aunts and my uncles,
Who live far away
(Though I don’t wish to see them
Until Boxing Day).


Now, the jolliest present –
Someday, I will have –
Should involve Father Christmas
Just beating a chav.


It’s a chav that’s intruding
Into our fair home.
Plus, he’s struggling to stand up –
He’s drunk to the bone.


He threw up on the staircase;
Threw up on the floor.
And then while defecating,
He threw up some more.


Father Christmas came early
(Arrived, you sick freak),
So the chav felt his weapon,
Beginning to speak:


“Yo, I bare need some weed, right?
You bes’ get lost now.
Otherwise, I could shank you,
And dat can allow.”


From all this, evidently,
Saint Nick seemed confused.
He knew not what the boy said:
Did “shank” mean “to use”?


As he pondered that idea
And fondled his beard,
The dumb chav grew impatient;
A knife had appeared.


Mr. Kringle looked shell-shocked,
His face filled with fear
“No! I can’t die this evening!
I must see next year!”


He tried to negotiate
By swearing to leave;
Promised not to revisit
The next Christmas Eve.


But the chav wouldn’t listen
To his feeble cries
For the mercy of freedom:
“Let us compromise.”


I had heard a commotion,
Meaning to this scene,
I now enter, dumbfounded,
Believing a dream


Was the thing I was seeing,
So pinched my left arm.
And aghast, I stared straight at
The burglar alarm.


It had failed! “What of that?!
A chav and a man
Dressed in red and white fabrics!”
That’s when the chav ran.


But the fellow in red clothes
Stood right where he was.
He just broadened his smile
And vanished to dust!


So, tomorrow, sit down to
A family meal
And merry Christmas to all,
But Santa’s not real!


Duh!


(Edit: Ohhh, that should be “Happy Festive Holidays”! Or maybe I’ll be offending someone! Oh no! That would be awful! In regards to the religious aspect of Christmas…well, I’m sure you can all guess what my opinions are on that.)


(Second Edit: In actuality, I'm not really prepared to wish anyone a Merry Christmas, because the force behind those words has completely dissipated. But instead of going into a rant on why that is, I'll leave you with these words: be satisfied with what you have this Christmas, and only strive to procure items of luxury after purchasing the necessary.)


(Third Edit: Or simply buy whatever the hell you want from Woolworths...)

Friday 19 December 2008

Where The Spinal Cord Roams


*shock*!