Teenage Angst.

It's like a bloody stop light, right on the bridge of my nose. People are avoiding eye contact, to look in my eyes might be misinterpreted as gazing in wonder at the giant zit between them. It's big enough to have its own post code. Here I am, a forty five year old man enjoying the same social discomfort I felt as a fifteen year old. Thirty years later I still have no idea how to handle it, make a joke, say nothing, consider make up, stay home? The difference now is that I have to carry this unwelcome passenger with me on stage, under the bright, unforgiving lights. It is bigger and shinier than my saxophone, now an audience can share the embarrassment. I feel how Rudolph felt when he attended his first party where there were girls. If the stage lights fail we can all bask in the glow coming from my nose, I'll be a hero.

I stand on the dark part of the stage, get through the set, pack up, head home. I dodge my usual stop at my local cafe, the waitress is far too pretty to see me this way. 

At least when I was a teenager everyone had pimples, it didn't seem so bad. Perhaps I cared less about how I looked then? I can't recall considering wearing make up back then. 

It seems I'm doomed to being a teenager forever. Some may consider this a blessing, until they remember going out with a giant zit on their nose, like a bloody stop light, a social handicap even before a word is spoken, as if I don't say enough stupid things without being visually ridiculous too. 

In a day or so it will be gone, I guess I'll laugh, I know others are already laughing, "what was that thing on his nose, did someone squeeze a ketchup bottle at him, did he sneeze into his spaghetti?"

All I want to know is when do I grow up? When does the teenage angst come to an end? Does it end? Does everyone else go through their entire life sporting giant zits on their noses and feeling like the last thirty years never happened? 

Or is it just me? Me and the bloody stop light on the bridge of my nose?

Parkstreet.
www.kentparkstreetblog.com

A Christian Cat.

You know how a cat will enter a room full of people, leap onto the lap of the one person who despises cats, despite everyone else cooing and encouraging it towards them? You know how cats do that? Well, someone keeps on leaving Christian propaganda outside the door of my apartment. There are dozens of apartments in my building, why my door? Like a Christian cat, she, and I can guarantee it is a woman who leaves these pamphlets, picks me as the one person who doesn't want them. How do I know it is a woman? Of course it is. It always is, pious and awful, miserable and determined to share her loving misery with my company. 

So I find these brightly coloured slips of religious invitation, come to a meeting and feel the love, outside my door, what do I do? If I take them in to throw in my trash will she think I've accepted them gratefully? If I kick them aside will I insult someone who is clearly mentally unstable? Either way I may be encouraging a more vigorous form of evangelism. 

The really amusing thing is that my building is managed by a co op, a co op with a charter of maintaining social diversity in this gentrified area. Most of the people I share walls with are pretty dang diverse, some of them need a saviour, yet I never see the propaganda outside anyone else's doors. Why mine? Why? Because there is a Christian cat roaming the corridors of my building, I've been identified as the least likely to respond, so onto my lap she leaps.

And yes, I am that guy in the room full of people, the one a cat always tries to win over. Cristian propaganda makes me sneeze too.

Parkstreet.
www.kentparkstreetblog.com

Yes Nanny #2.

I guess this sign for morons was thought necessary because morons ignored the obvious barrier. The Nanny State sometimes occurs as a reaction to infantile behaviour.

This is one of the first signs visitors to Australia see as they arrive.

www.kentparkstreetblog.com

G. K. Chesterton On Atheism.

"If there were no God, there would be no atheists."

G. K. Chesterton.

As much as I love your work Mr. Chesterton, especially The Man Who Knew Too Much, this, my friend, is balderdash. It is technically correct. Theists carefully controlled literacy for centuries, defined the terms, defined an atheist as one who does not believe in God. However, if there were no God, or gods, no belief in the Imaginary Sky Daddy, an atheist would not be titled an atheist, instead one who did not believe in a god would be titled . . . a person. 

This argument, that atheists are iconoclasts, rebels, reactionaries, begins from the ridiculous belief in a god. It begins from the believer's insane desire to define everything and everyone in the context of that god. It begins as a method of winning an argument by defining the terms and labels. 

Religious people run massive education and propaganda organisations, begin with their own children. In the past to define someone as atheist was an insult, it meant godless, therefore evil. Today there are many of us who have never believed in a supernatural entity, who live without the ludicrous illusion, being atheist isn't some sort of reaction to an alleged god, it is just a natural state if being. 

Chesterton fundamentally misunderstood what an atheist is. He saw only a non believer, one opposed to his own belief. God or no god, gods or no gods, Imaginary Sky Daddy or no Imaginary Sky Daddy, an atheist is the same. As the atheist doesn't believe there is any one of these things he or she isn't defined by them. 

www.kentparkstreetblog.com

The New Google Arse.

"Oh, I notice you are sporting the new Google Arse, how do you like it?"

"It's terrific. It takes photographs, video, it's like having an iPad, in my arse. I can ask my Google Arse questions, chat, update my Facebook, Twitter, everything I need to do when I'm out and about, my Google Arse does it all."

"You seem really pleased with your Google Arse, are there any drawbacks?"

"Well, I'm not that keen on how I have to plug it in to recharge it, and there have been a few misunderstandings when I've been taking photos, otherwise it is brilliant. And it's so much easier than carrying a phone around, my Google Arse goes everywhere with me, it's so convenient."

"You don't feel you are intruding on other people, talking to your arse all the time, having a camera permanently available and pointed?" 

"Soon everyone will have a Google Arse, it will be normal to talk to one's arse, talk through one's arse, the entire world will be communicating through their arses."

"I see. I guess that is already happening, just look at social media, I guess the new Google Arse is just confirming the trend?"

"You bet, Google Arse, the way of the future, we'll all be able to express ourselves through our arses, soon you won't be able to imagine that there was a time when we didn't."

Parkstreet.

www.kentparkstreetblog.com

God, It's Time To Go.

God, you apocryphal bastard, you imaginary son of a bitch, causer of false hopes, inspirer of idiotic actions, give it up, leave the humans alone, depart in the disgrace you deserve.

A man takes a knife to the chest of a slain enemy, cuts out his heart and takes a bite, claims he is acting on behalf of his god. Humans have been behaving this way for thousands of years, claiming their god as their justification, this episode was filmed and uploaded to YouTube so those of us who wouldn't usually encounter such barbarism are made aware of it. Barbarism and gods go hand in bloody hand. At least gangsters have the courage to admit to desiring power, wealth, sex, don't hide behind a big sky man to justify their barbarity. 

Soon, and probably very soon, one of these god inspired lunatics will get hold of a nuclear weapon, perhaps in Pakistan, then the bond between an imaginary god and humans will be broken. The few who survive will have no choice but to give up the notion of god. The lunatic who sends off the first missile will be certain he is going to heaven, the last believer, a fitting end to the nonsense.

It is up to all of us to rid ourselves of imaginary gods before it is too late. Stop donating money, stop paying lip service, stop giving the lunatic few the belief that they represent the majority. Treat gangsters as the criminals they are, even if they claim god as a rationalisation.

It is time for god to go, all the gods. It is time we ignored their nuisance until they get the message and leave. It is time we grew up and left our imaginary gods behind, time to become civilized humans.

Parkstreet.

www.kentparkstreetblog.com

Frank Crane On Decision Making.

"Most of the things we decide are not what we know to be the best. We say yes, merely because we are driven into a corner and must say something,"

Frank Crane

The old idea that most people live lives of quiet desperation occurs to me. We accept just about everything that is handed to us, rarely stand up and say what we want, even know what we want. I don't really know what I want, how can I expect to make good decisions?

www.kentparkstreetblog.com