Bert Rigby You're A Fool
I was feeling really tired/bored/depressed earlier on, so I went to bed at 9pm, and considered going to sleep, but instead wrote exciting descriptions of cleaning the toilet which may or may not go in something I was writing. I think cleaning the toilet is my generation's equivalent of the Primo Levi Holocaust narrative. The Top Number One Scottish novel of all time, Trainspotting, is best known for featuring a toilet. It is the ultimate horror. But who cleaned the toilets in Dachau? They probably got a Polish woman in. Alan Bennett's The History Boys and Trevor Griffiths's Comedians are both famous plays which use the Holocaust as the ultimate touchstone of absoluteness and unevaluableness and undiscussibility. While discussing it. Comedians is better because it is probably the most dark and destructive play ever to appear on the British stage with the least convincing optimistic coda and (in the TV play and original performances) featured Jonathan Pryce shouting abuse at mannequins. Then I got up again and watched the final episode of Extras which was shit. Maybe just because I hate Robert Lindsay (just about tolerable playing a version of the even more repulsive Derek Hatton, Liverpool's answer to Tommy Sheridan, in GBH, but otherwise the creepiest dentist in the universe, and I include Steve Martin and Laurence Olivier. I apologise for ridiculing Trotskyites more than Nazis.) But probably also because of Gervais/Andy's behaviour making no sense and the equally annoying Jonathan Ross. I am feeling very nihilistic. I have never believed in heroes, but I admire Doug Stanhope more than Bill Hicks because Stanhope is contemptible and ridiculous and takes the piss out of Hicks. I was talking to a friend of mine the other night and she made a comment about someone whose diary she used to read who was a 30 year old virgin and spent her time obsessing over and stalking men and this woman had not written her diary for a very long time and we were speculating over whether she might have found someone to love, and I said that it was possible she had because this stalker woman would either obsess over incredibly gorgeous people she had no chance with or over people who were just as pathetic as she was, and the friend I was talking to seemed surprised at me making such a glib and brutal personality analysis and asked if I made similar judgements about her. But I'm all about the character assassination of strangers. Of course I am less able to give an objective judgement of my friend, even though by friend-onlying this she is unable to read it.* Now I am seeking solace in beer.
*Actually I might make it public, but by the above device I'll at least make sure that if she reads it she'll think I'm talking about someone else who cannot see this.
*Actually I might make it public, but by the above device I'll at least make sure that if she reads it she'll think I'm talking about someone else who cannot see this.