Guilt and stuff

From the graveyard of wasted dreams
Must. Not. Feel. Guilty.

Andy - you must have a module for guilt-free hedonism no? How about one on being selfish?

And on this note, Mrs. Dalloway goes out and says to herself, "Fuck commerce, I'm not buying flowers today, but in a fit of economy, will go to the nearby cemetery and steal some flowers from the gravestones". And before you tut, purse your lips and shake your insipid little heads, consider this: over 50% of flowers are shipped around the world, tracts of land in Africa and Asia are cleared, water sources are emptied to grow flowers for people who put them on display in grotesque, garish and ostentatious shows of nothingness. One of those facts is made up. Which one?

And so she does. Yes, she does - and with a vengeance. Think of it as recycling. The flowers purchased, the gas converted into nasty gases, the heat released, the growers poisoned by herbicides, weed killers and the land poisoned by simple fertilizers, the guilt of the person visiting the grave assuaged. The dead? They don't care. Mrs. D finds another use for these poor flowers what never asked to be born and be part of such an odious cycle of human stupidity.

Titanium spikes?
She will make one exception though - and that's to get a Venus Fly Trap. These are at least from the same continent (North Carolina mostly) and will be used as a form of biological control to rid the place of flies. It's too bad they were never crossed with a Triffid - oh do look it up. You must read more - so they could waddle around like an overweight French Bulldog and snap at flies here and there.

Lovely things. Now must go create swamp conditions (not mental, but physical) for the lovely thing. What should I Call it? I think I'll call it SSK after the initials for the women in Bananarama - obvious innit? Venus, etc etc? First US #1 hit for them? Remake? Oh, I give up on you.

I snap at you. Yes. I'm doing some Venus fly trap training you see.

Not this kind of snarl, but the kind with teeth.
Today, Mrs. D will also roam the hallways of academia and snarl at all who get in her way. She will channel the three fates and place the threads of academic hopes tossed her way in the last few weeks and cut here and there, but with great discrimination. She will also sit in on a meeting where most unfortunately, the voiceless have been given a voice. She will have to practice great forbearance at that meeting so as to not snap the necks of some. It will be a great trial and tribulation with no reward at the end. Except...except...she must be able to resign soon....She must look into this sooner rather than later.


Then she'll send out some instructions and then push the red button to get a roller. There are plans a-forming, and they'll be put into action on Monday. See if they don't.

So back to guilt - Andy - what is your advice on this?

None? Just close the eyes and count the breath? Who asked you anyway.

Banana?!
Guilt. So pernicious. I read something recently about 8 toxins that we inject into ourselves daily. Well, actually it was Stuart who read them to me. I couldn't get past the first one before drifting off on a toxic day-dream of my own making. I should perhaps look more carefully into this but - actually, it's not guilt so much as dissatisfaction with the way things are. There is no answer to dissatisfaction. It's either there or not and it's dumb. Right then, there's no answer. So why fucking put all the things that make me feel dissatisfied and unsettled in front of me? Is there any wonder my best friend (for now) is a little yellow vampire with one eye dressed in a purple cloak? Which reminds me, must got to the next McDonald's I come across to get another happy meal. Yes. That'll be the treat for today. A Happy Meal. That's guaranteed to make me happy and full. What more could you ask for? White towels that are truly white - that's what I could ask for - so that's the other thing I will do - put the towels into wash on temp boost and damn the environment - and throw in some Eucalyptus oil what was flown from Australia to Malaysia then hence to Hong Kong and to here. Lots of good fossil fuel waste guilt there. Well! No wonder the towels aren't white. How could they be? Lady Macbeth has no idea. What. So. Ever.