Tumbling To The Ground

Chapter 24.

For Something Thicker

Iqbal day. Seems unfair I can't get beer on a holiday commemorating a man whose poetry leads you to believe he was probably one of the biggest drinkers this nation has ever seen. Advantage though...the electricity didn't go today. Disadvantage? I wasn't prepared for this random act of kindness from those thieving bastards that run the electric supply company. I still switched off my PC and took my nap (yes, like the one your grandfather takes because his love problems are bigger than mine, i.e: he actually GOT to marry the woman of HIS dreams) and wasted those precious hours of the day when I could be sitting here typing away at some useless theory or the other, helping no one and fuelling my insanity simultaneously.

Yes. I claim I'm insane. And yes, it makes me think I'm cooler than you. How'd you guess?

So many MOVEMENTS all of a sudden. And not just the high society hippie SHAMS going on in THIS country, but all around the world. The other day a gay comedian managed to get a crowd of 3000 people to focus on a much larger picture concerning the mannerisms and methods the catholic church used to enforce its teachings in the past and the diabolical yet primitive way in which it intends to choose and empower its clerics in the near future. His main objective, of course, apart from holding present priests responsible for atrocities committed 600 years ago, was to force the church to make it alright to be gay no matter how ICKY (religious terminology) devout Catholics might find that kind of behaviour to be.

Meanwhile...the most powerful woman in Pakistan...Atiqa Ohdo...continued to flood my facebook inbox with pro Pakistani tripe that concerns a very small percentage of the nation seeing as most of them are having a problem with those OTHER things, you know, FOOD, WATER and ELECTRICITY.

So you wanna fight bullets with words. You wanna fight bombs with blogs.

Some dude called Saad Khan drowned during a badly conceived game show. Like Fear Factor meets The Running Man. There are no losers. Only winners and dead people. I was genuinely surprised that wasn't the USP (Unique Selling Point. I have a friend. He went to college.) of the show to begin with, and that the death was actually an accident. Being a paranoid man though, I couldn't help thinking this was an elaborate way to give the masses of this shit hole the believable illusion that multinationals aren't completely taking over this country with each passing minute. Or maybe it was just a huge step taken to improve the quality and standards of game shows for television locally. A win win really. Except for the guinea pig who left behind a wife and three kids.

Then I thinks to myself I thinks...isn't it about time we brought the world together using the one trait human beings haven't managed to shake over the past 20 thousand years? Yes, that's right. Blood lust you cretins. Whens the last time you switched between channels showing the aftermath of a bomb blast in Peshawar and a peaceful artistic exhibition opening night at some lame gallery and actually spent more time watching the latter? You wouldn't pull the trigger to execute a murderer but you'd sure as hell watch it if someone else did, admit it.

Ahh all those women I could've impressed with my newly acquired ZIPPO TRICK skills at the protest we were gonna hold for Saad Khan at the Park Towers roundabout...about seven fucking months ago. Bring your own DIYAS children. You'll need the light. Movements in this country have darker agendas than the sad events surrounding them.


So! Bringing the world together using blood lust. I imagine...soon as Punylever or Prostate and Gamble or conglomerates like it get enough power to control these kinds of things...I dream of a world where we won't be fighting each other anymore because we'll be too busy watching carefully selected groups of individuals worldwide fighting each OTHER. In huge arenas.

Where the head of the loser gets lobbed off and sold to the highest bidder. And the women will swoon after him saying things like "Did you know? He's a COLLECTOR." It's gonna be pure ratings MAGIC.

Poor Peshawaris. They live in buildings so dilapidated, one explosion sends seven of them tumbling to the ground, and we have the nerve to focus on the actual BLAST as the main problem plaguing this country and it's people...not the illiterate thugs LEADING them...

Atleast make it HARD for the terrorists I say. Give them something to fuckin' WORRY about perhaps? I was stopped about half an hour ago by rangers on the road because my busted headlight seemed suspicious. I asked him if they'd gotten reports of a busted headlight car that needs to be checked. He said "Nah man...we just randomly wave down vehicles we feel like waving down in the mere hopes that we might find something in them." This is the plan of action provided to these Rangers by one of the most feared intelligence agencies in the world. But I'm starting to believe the ISI is more LOATHED than FEARED. Our guys probably just stop answering the phone when shit gets real like most Pakistanis do. I won't lie. I avoid the hell out of people when I'm too bothered with my own shit...but then I wouldn't put myself in charge of running a damn country either. But if that LAX kinda behaviour doesn't put the terror in the hearts of men driving a lorry carrying one hundred and fifty kilos of plastic explosives into the Marriot, I'm stumped as to what might.

Who even knows what the damn war is about anymore. We're too busy fighting it. On the front. In our own homes. Most of us just in our minds. There was a time when blood was worthless once it was spilt for something thicker. Now it seems that was just an excuse. Wasn't even the plan.

Who else demands we be told what the damn plan is?

Anyone?

No matter how horrific. It couldn't be worse than rationalising millions of deaths daily by applying whatever twisted logic was born in your mind off that limited amount of knowledge you possibly might have about the history of the world. Or you could stay busy watching how the tip of the iceberg IS getting just a little cleaner every year. Sure MORE women were raped this year than any preceding it...but isn't that just because there're more women ON Earth this year than the last?

Your popularised notions of right and wrong make me wish I had a stomach better at holding in all that vomit that comes out as a result of hearing them. Nothing is getting better. And your ability to turn around and look at the things you WANT to see is to blame. But I expect little else from a species that gets addicted to soft drinks and fancy shoes by the age of 6.

Death trickles down the ladder of power, kids. Watching a president make a call to kill soldiers while killing rebels while aggravating their surviving peers into killing innocents is like killing a matchstick to kill a cigarette to kill yourself.

Give yourself cancer if you have to...but then try not to get married and have children that gotta see your balding chemotherapied ass struggle to stay alive every damn day.

You'd think there was at least something CLOSE to a solution for removing cancerous bigots in the worlds highest positions of power in here. I'm afraid I'm still working on it. I promise it'll involve guns and explosives. I tried to use harsh words against a tank once...you can't hear them over the shells.

But as far as solutions go...if I thought celebrating life brought about anything but more inevitable death...I'd advise you to stop reading and YouTube that little Chinese girl that raises her hand and says "What...EVAAAA" in such an adorable way it makes you kinda forget how sad it is that a wonderful mind like hers is soon going to be ruined by the next Lindsay Lohan album.