I have an old joke that I wrote a few years ago about my attention span. Ready? Here it is: Me: You know, I have the attention span of a goldfish She: What? Me: What?
But in all seriousness, this book is entertaining, funny and educational. It makes its point, tickles you and then leaves you with an imagery or a thought so disturbing you feel bad for laughing at the previous line. These are all the ingredients you want in a book written by a comedian, or in a great comedy piece; push the boundaries, punch as far up as possible, make a great (preferably an unpopular) argument, but most importantly make the audience uncomfortable.
So, I am reading that novel, alright. I am paying attention for say, some good thirty-seven seconds. During this time, the whole world around me has ceased to exist. It’s just me and my breath, and of course the cologne of these words sprinkled over these pages. I don’t feel any eyes on me and nothing distracts me at all. You could strip me down, doodle a penis on my face, and stuff my pet in an oven and turn it on and I wouldn’t pay attention. However, on the thirty-eighth second, something happens. Maybe the author uses the word, “suddenly”, to describe an expected set of mundane events. It throws me off. I suddenly stop reading it.
He wants cheese and he works really hard for it. And it’s not that he only wants cheese, he is sometimes okay with bread too, brown ones, white ones, dough in any form, really. Especially if they are moist, soaked in milk, pleasant to bite at. Sometimes he fancies wine too, but doesn’t have the … Continue reading The Cheese Mountain
Anything that can’t grab my attention is the job of worst kind for me. Even if it is something fun; say playing a video game with tricks and codes that can make a particular level easier – or boost my avatar’s powers – is automatically a task for me. And tasks shouldn’t be a part … Continue reading FARTS OF SPEECH (ATTENTION DEFICIENCY) #3
My attention span is abnormally minimal. In fact, let’s just say, if it was my wage I would be perpetually broke. If it was my dress, there would be plenty of naked hairy legs. If it was a response, it would be a: “?” or, “fuck, what?”. If it was a text, it would be … Continue reading FARTS OF SPEECH (Attention Deficiency) #1
Being angry doesn’t necessarily mean you fight the person. It doesn’t mean you cause him physical harm and chew his ears off. You’re not Mike Tyson. You don’t have a lisp or a face thattoo. You have an arm tattoo, which is basically your own name written in ambigram and you’re tired of people asking … Continue reading Farts of Speech (Anger Mismanagement) #4
It’s not like I cannot keep my anger in check or that I will, without any concerns, snap at an authoritative figure who could fuck me over. Nope. Being angry does have its own share of perks at some selected places. Airport immigration being a major exception. Nostril flaring, sarcasm, or direct insults should be … Continue reading Farts of Speech (Anger Mismanagement) #3
Your windows aren’t tinted and the panes are naked; curtainless, colorless and inviting. Behind that, I see a vulnerable world, unaware, unkempt, like kids hanging on the edge of a school bus. The front door looks paper thin and I could a put my foot through it without even scratching myself. I haven’t touched the … Continue reading Gun or Pillow? (Interactive Fiction)
I often come across these pious coercers who offer me the advice: Holding on to anger is like, drinking poison and expecting others to die. Sorry, you’re confusing suicide with murder. You’re worried about me causing self-destruction or at the very least going Van Gogh. I am endorsing: emotional harm, harsh-criticism and belittling, wherever appropriately … Continue reading FARTS OF SPEECH (ANGER MISMANAGEMENT) #2