Thursday 14 February 2013

Morrissey Is My Man

Something about cemeteries has always fascinated me. They reek of the transience of life in a perpetually beautiful way. Cemetery Gates, The Smiths With loves, and hates and passions just like mine. They were born and then they lived and then they died. These words make me internally quiver every time. Every time I hear them, I just want to shout every fucking word into the face of ignorant humanity.  Life is simplistic. It starts and ends in a monotonous manner and suddenly, we are irrelevant. We are dead.

Earlier in the year I traveled to my paternal homeland, New Zealand. Opposite one hotel in Auckland was Symonds Street Cemetery. I spent enough time there to dig a grave. I would sit amongst decaying leaves, surrounded by names and dates and faded tomb stones. The tomb stones meant nothing, yet they were everything. To me they were a symbol of time; a beacon simplicity and the recipe of life.

Today I lost a friend. All I could think of were the decaying leaves which littered the floor of Symonds Street Cemetery. His life seemed as equally as ephemeral. We complicate things with time, we take time for granted. Life is simple; at least Morrissey can speak my language .With loves, and hates and passions just like mine. They were born and then they lived and then they died. 
 

Wednesday 13 February 2013

Valentines Day Sentiments

I hate Valentines Day. The only reason behind the burning pit of hatred I fuel is that it is a day which demonstrates absolutely every single thing I loathe about humans as a species. If I wrote a dictionary of conventionally observed days the entry for Valentines Day would read...
Valentines Day: mindless shit
I don't want to end up ranting about the over-commercialization, but I probably will anyway.  Why is it that a relationship status suddenly becomes relevant on one day of the year? Why does singledom become so horrendous that one must slowly shit it into my Facebook newsfeed, updating me with their non-ironic sorrow. Unless you were part of some freakish multiple birth, you were hauled out of your mother's vagina and into this big wide world on your lonesome. You ventured for (I pray) at least a decade of your life being satisfied with parental love. If you cannot continue to exist as an individual you need to revalue your priorities in life and not talk to me (I don't have time for people like you).  And for those with partners in tow, if you don't take time to acknowledge the presence of your significant other any other day of the year...what the fuck is the point?
 

Obviously this guy took it to the extreme...
 but Jesus had a way with words.
I hear he was a pretty moral guy.
The thing that shits me off the most is that there is literally no reason for the day, historically speaking.  Valentines Day commenced as a liturgical celebration of the early Christian saint, Valentinus. He was associated with performing illegal weddings for soldiers and ministering Christians who were persecuted under the Roman Empire. That is it. As the Germans would say "Kaput" (although that is not really used in the right context, it sounds right). There is no actual reason for Valentines day.  There are more founded reasons to celebrate the birth of your family's pet fish. Our society breeds into us from a young age that our lives are about discovering love. That our lives don't truly commence until romantic love is found. What is love? There are some that even argue love is a mere humanistic construct. 
 
If we must have a day to symbolize love should we not commit to it in a more dutiful and logical manner. Rather than pumping our hard earned dollars into the consumerist temptations of Valentines Day  and wallowing in our own self pity, we should perhaps at least momentarily consider the fact that 925 million people are hungry in the world. IDK IT'S JUST A THOUGHT. At risk of sounding like Jesus, if every person donated the money they would usual shred on gifts to a  to a total and utter stranger who needed money, wouldn't that be a display of pure and simple love for one's neighbor.  Isn't generosity and compassion true love?  Or if you can't manage a financial contribution why don't you just shed a smile at someone. Particularly if they work in retail (I'm sorry I didn't realise that being a total and utter shit on the human race had become a standard form of greeting).
 
If you purchase flowers for Valentines day, or subject your 'love life' to un-normal practices in the name of the 14th of February...we can't be friends. If you go out of your way to observe this over-commercialised, over-dramatized and pointless shit of a day we can't be friends. The irony is that in many ways I have just conformed to Valentines Day is by acknowledging its existence and rambling about the ways it affects my life. Anyway, lets continue loving each other (or at the very least love hating each other) as much as we would any other day of the year . Minx out.

Saturday 9 February 2013

shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots shots everybody.

 The song "Shots" could be compared to aggressively slamming your face into brick wall for 4.14 minutes. The song doesn't need versus, all people want is to let the fuck go at the chorus.  Surrounded by the right people and the right amount of alcohol this song makes for some ironic fun. Apart from the song should have no place in our lives/humanity/the universe. Yet yesterday, I found myself discovering the melody of Shots in the spray painting of some dude in Queen Street. At which point, I realised I had two choices....
a) keep on going with my life. Perhaps try and become more socially acceptable.
b) Or go and blog
Obviously I chose the latter. And here I am sitting on Youtube watching (what I would describe) as the genre that is Shots covers. I may as well place my life into a shredder and then burn the remnants.


This particular version actually injects wholesome rainbows into a song which literally is about getting "fucked up". There  is something that I am struggling to eloquently articulate about the use of harmonica/saxophone/tambourine.

To sum up...my name is Kobi, I literally have no life.  Shots?