RockPaperScissors

From now on, I'll be putting my writing in a zine created by a few of us in the Scottish Highlands called RockPaperScissors - www.thespider.org.uk - This zine is out on the first Tuesday of every month. We're also scheming a podcast to be released on the third Tuesday of ever month, stay tuned to www.thespider.org.uk!

A "new" year

It was, on cue, a concrete example of why I'm not celebrating tonight.

While I was walking through this park shortly after the new year countdown, I saw something amazing. There were around twenty people throwing glowing tubes into a tree, cheering. Hundreds of glowing tubes. “They do this every year, the same tree” I was told. I was stunned. There were “men”, “women” and – most definitely – there were children.

They were all children. All I could think was – fuck you, you pitiful fucking children. Why were you throwing these things into the tree? Tradition? More correctly, it is because you were told to, and you follow. And what will you do tomorrow when cleaning up your filthy camp sites? I know what you'll do, you'll put the bottles into the recycling bin, because that's what you're told to do, and you will duly follow. You fucking children. Tonight you'll say you love tradition, tomorrow you'll say you live “green”. You have no idea what you want, or what to do. So immense is your ignorance, you can't even see the contradiction. A simple contradiction, and you cant see it. Because you're a fucking child.

Why didn't I celebrate tonight? Because tomorrow I will wake up, again, and have to share this world with you. A change in the calendar can't change this. I despise you. Your lack, your total and utter lack of honesty in action is what makes me sick at the thought of interacting with you. At very least, choose. Choose waste, or choose sufficiency. I know you won't, because you're incapable of the most basic kinds of thinking.

Your inaction impacts on me, but you're not even capable of recognising this. Your inability and incapability have a detrimental effect on me, and those I love. You will argue these facts are not true, and there are positives in your actions. I know this, because I've heard the arguments. Time and time again I've heard them. You say you believe your arguments, but I don't really know what you believe – because you don't know what you believe. You await instruction, that's all, like a good dog should, hoping to get a treat for shitting in the allocated place.

This is why I cannot respect you. You show me nothing deserving of respect. You've handed your mind to another, you don't actually know who, but to another, because you think this great amazing 'other' can work through all your problems, and solve them. Do you not see this? You mustn't. So let me repeat – you've willingly, lazily, eagerly and comfortably handed your mind and your conscience to another. Any two year old child thinks the same, as they wait for mum to wipe the brown stain away.

Enjoy your glowing tubes, enjoy your glowing box, enjoy your traditions. You've given everything of worth away – this is what you've got left. At the risk of understating how I feel – I hope you fucking choke on it, so-called 'Man', fake plastic 'Woman', you mindless monkey. Enjoy your filth. If you think I'm over-reacting to seeing some glowing tubes being thrown around, that is, in itself, proof positive of your vast cognitive nothingness.

It's two in the morning, the first of January, 2011. The monkeys are asleep. Their glowing tubes are still in the tree.

The thing is, most who reads this I despise, people I find it impossible to respect.

You know what? Fuck you too.