Pinata!

so much to write, so little time, so it seems, so it is. Like so many other people, I am not entirely in control of my time management, and so I allow little jobs to slide until they end up as one colossal bloody mountain of sodding little jobs, and there's me at the base wondering what to do. Perhaps I should take a leaf out of my friend Marcus' book, or rather blog: The enlightened path may not lay at the top of the mound, but rather by walking round the side of it. Hopefully with a nice cup of tea to hand.
I find myself bogged down at present, having to juggle the various needs and desires of not only myself but also others. Sometimes it is frustrating: However, it is my life as it is. I'm well aware that I don't earn enough money, and that doing my Dip is the only current way forward, yet I still wonder whether I am on the right path, and whether I should be moving into something else. I want to study, I want to write, yet I seem to not have enough time for either.Perhaps I should walk around the mountain.
On a different topic, I've had quite a few reactions to the whole Jesus Pinata thing. Most agree with what I said at the end of the post, ie a sick stupid idea, yet it later struck me that theologically speaking it was actually appropriate, as long as it was done on Good Friday. The act of striking a Jesus Pinata until it breaks (spilling communion wafers and wine?) would be hugely symbolic of the mockery, abuse and pain heaped upon Christ in his final few hours, and therefore apt. I formed this opinion while watching BBC/HBO's hugely impressive 'The Passion', which didn't shirk from showing what a miserable, vile and humiliating death crucifixtion was, while not lingering on the thing with the sadistic pleasure evinced by Mel Gibson's film. However, the actor playing Jesus looked a bit too much like Ben Fogle with a beard to be entirely convincing.

Easter

..and chocolate and bunnies. Yum. I was discussing it rather flippantly with a colleague the other day, and wondered why we didn't have any lo-calorie chocolate Jesuses. They'd go down a treat. And what about a Jesus Pinata? All the kids could dress up as roman soldiers and poke it with spears.
Yes, I know, deeply sick.

Dear fellow cyclist...

,yes I think you know who you are, and I hope you're reading. You overtook me on Hemdean road this morning, almost pushing me into the kerb, and disregarding your own safety vis a vis the car directly behind you. There you were, you hero, straining against the wind, your work suit bulging against your paunch and the hi-vis, expensive yellow cycling jacket; you wobbled under the weight of your pricey cycling rucksack and your head bowed under your pricey cycling helmet; And yes, you overtook me,regardless of anyone's safety, least of all your own, you hero, you. Well, the wind was against us, and just for a bit of sport, I thought I'd catch you up and see if I could beat you to the end of the road. And I did, didn't I? However, you didn't like that, did you?It showed you up on your pricey bike and pricey clothes and pricey kit, you hero. So, when I cycled onto Church street, you came racing behind, regardless of the car bearing down on you, hero, its horn blaring. I guess your piggy little eyes were bulging with fury behind your pricey little glasses. And of course, when I reached the mini roundabout, I indicated right, as I always do, but it's a good job I checked behind me, as I always do before I turned right, because I saw you just about to barrel into me in your yearning to get past me, regardless of the car about to turn into your path, you hero. So I hope you're reading this:
YOU ARE A TOTAL FUCKING TOOL, AND IT'S NO WONDER PEOPLE GET PISSED OFF WITH CYCLISTS WHILE ARSEHOLES LIKE YOU ARE AROUND.
Thank you.

the last post was horribly pessimistic. Blame it on reading too much James Lovelock, watching the news unfold about price increases, the threat of recession, and being 40.

Do you know what you're doing?

No, really. Do you really, truly know and understand exactly what you're doing and why? Or is your life just little pockets of control, pushed and whipped around by great storms of total bloody chaos? Now there's a question that I'd like to see a politician answer with a straight face and an honest heart. The fact of the matter is, very few people really know what they're up to. The rest of us just try to control what we can, and are at the mercy of the shitstorm that is life. We might delude ourselves that we're in control, that we are masters of our destiny, but by and large that's bollocks. Yes, we might have the luxury of choosing where we live and what jobs we do: Yes, we have the freedom to have leisure time, go on holiday, buy what we want: But it is controlled choice, limited freedom. The slightest thing could send our lives spiralling out of control.
And of course, we expect those in charge to be able to control things in order to make our own lives easier, to give us a little less to be concerned about. What we neglect, or even choose to ignore, is that these are people just like us, not some race of ubermensch. And as such, they are prone to the faults and follies, mistakes, prevarications and lies that we all are. And these are the people I'd like to grab gently by the throat, stare into their eyes, and ask the question at the top of the page until I see fear gathering in their faces.