Thursday 29 January 2009

Shut Up and Feel Good

When times are bad and money is tight and day-to-day life positively sweats anxiety and wrath, ‘feelgood articles’ contrive to appear in a host of crappy rags and mags. Up they pop like tired, moth-eaten meercats, all sloppy jollity and yesterday’s smiles. ‘Reasons To Be Cheerful!’ they might be called. Or ‘Things To Make You Go Aaaah, Life’s Not So Bad!’ This list – if it’s particularly slapdash - might include such jewels of positive thinking as ‘go to a museum’, ‘listen to music’ or ‘loiter in the park staring at children’ (thanks to The Daily Mail for those doozies.)

The problem - apart from the fact that it’s difficult to trot out a bunch of sickly clichés without sounding like a wet, witless Christian - is that happiness is often surprisingly subjective, and one man’s haggis may very well be another man’s heroin. And vice versa.

Suddenly however, my life is sweating. Just a bit, mind, like a meatball in a bathing cap. Most probably perfectly healthy. Even so, in an attempt to invoke the spirit of Pollyanna, I feel the need to fall in line, to accentuate the positive, to count my blessings and celebrate the joyous bounty of our godless existence. Having said that, I must confess, I don’t have a fucking clue what makes you happy, and so I present:

Reasons To Be Cheerful (For Me. Just Me. You Get Your Own Bastard Reasons.)

I’m glad I haven’t got a tumour growing in me, scaring me senseless and eating me away. I’m glad I had my balls checked out and everything seems to be OK. I’m glad a throat like a bomb in a pram is the worst of my physical concerns. I’m glad I’m looking out upon a garden and the sun is shining and every once in a while a nice pair of tits pop out and cheekily peck at me nuts. (They’re not actually tits, they’re finches, but I just couldn’t resist. I’m glad I couldn’t resist!) I’m glad the foxes who hang around here in the middle of the night are having such an unignorably exciting time of it. I’m glad I’ve got a piece of chicken and some cous-cous in the fridge. I’m glad I pronounce cous-cous cuss-cuss. Motherfucking cuss-cuss. I’m glad I’ve been up at 6am every day this week and worked hard on the book all day. I’m glad it’s giving me so much pleasure. I’m glad the slow, steady death of this basil plant is not my fault. I’m glad John Updike lived so long and so well. I’m glad Lily Allen exists, duff telly aside. I’m glad that when I trip over Morag’s shoes and bags and light upon her clothing around the house, my reaction is still one of giddy delight. I’m glad there’ll be more Burns Nights. I’m glad I didn’t think this was real. Nope. Not for a second. And I’m glad the grumbling pain in my stomach appears to be nothing atrociously serious (faecal feedback pending).

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. That feels better.

Of course it’ll be better still if you follow me.



Everything’s all about the followers these days. Followers are the new friends. It’s like suddenly the whole of the internet’s got a Messiah Complex. I know I have, but I think mine’s more of a Porn Messiah Complex. Yes, I want everyone to get down on their knees and worship me, but I insist that they fellate me ostentatiously while they’re down there.

When I first saw the Blogger ‘Followers’ add-on thing, I pooh-poohed it. Now they’re all over the place and some people have thousands of them. I want some. I feel the dismal crush of petty envy. I seek validation.

Please validate me.

It’s up there on the right. At the time of writing, I only have 26 followers. Pitiful. Even John Beyer has more than that.

Thanks.

Now you. What are you glad about on this sunny winter’s day?



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17 comments:

Anonymous said...

Bonjour La bête,
I stopped watching TV and reading crappy press, and that's already enough to be cheerful. And on a sunny day it's even better.
Uncle Did

Kirses said...

Kudos for posting a link to the funniest site I've seen all day (fuck you penguin). and believe me when I say I have visited a shitload of sites today - its research you know.

only thing is i've decided to follow 27 people only, so if I follow fuckyoupenguin, I will have to unfollow you... wow this post really backfired didn't it?

Misssy M said...

Liking both haggis and heroin, I feel extremely happy.

Seriously though, my 17 year old cat died on Tuesday and the five minute long group hug me, my husband and my two kids had yesterday, without the kids being told to join in, made me happy again.

Ariel said...

Thank you for the gratuitous fellatio image - it could be that someone, later, will thank you for my reading your post. For this and the stir in my nether regions, I am glad.

Anonymous said...

glad that we had a wicked ice/snow storm, and my office has been closed for two days and i'm still wearing my pajamas... and that my dog stopped farting.

the glamour. never ends... a true curse...

Anonymous said...

The problem with this follow thing is you can't really follow without a blogger account. And as *everyone* knows blogger isn't a very good blogging tool.

I am following you just not in that way

Shimacat said...

I'm glad I saw the new(ish) moon tonight, bright with earthshine, in a clear darkening-blue sky. I looked at that as I was walking home to our warm flat, with two cats and a fiance, knowing the chicken lemon tagine I made last night was ready and waiting.

That made me glad indeed. So glad that I am now (sigh) following your blog. It's a pathetic male ego thing, isn't it?

Anonymous said...

26 followers? How do you count them?

Surely you have more...

Anonymous said...

Reasons To Be Cheerful (For Me. Just Me. You Get Your Own Bastard Reasons.)
And that's the whole point for me...each reason is individual.
I can't stand it when other people will say (when I feel like crap, I don't even have to say it, it just shows which is why I no longer socialise for the sake of it, I go to the gym and punch something or someone), "But there are so many bad things out there, at least your home wasn't bombed like what happens in Israel." And I feel like saying, 'well dir Fred, it will never be because it's freaking Sydney not the Gaza."
I started enjoying life a bit more when I stopped giving a shite about what others thought or said, and quit my office job, and vowed never to return in a fluoro lit den filled with 60% half-wits. Getting away from the corporate world was the best thing I did.

Nick Tann said...

Follow my blog and I'll follow yours. I alrasy subscribe to the email thing and follow you on Twatter. I draw the line a fellatio though....

Anonymous said...

I'm not going to do the followers thing. Not that I know how anyway, and it might not be possible on my Old Blogger Dinosaur blog, but it would be HORRIBLY depressng, I just know it.

Anyway, reasons to be cheerful? I had oodles of fun with some children today. It was great. Children are great. End of.

Anonymous said...

Yes, I agree, loitering in the park staring at children and scaring their parents, is always the best way to to put a smile on my face.

What? Honestly! That is soooo creepy! Way to get people arrested, with scary, weird, advice.


Oh, and if I were to play the happy game I'm glad that.

1) my roomate has quaranteened herself to her room
2) Wellington is alive
3) It's going to be sunny and in the mid to high 70's this weekend. Hooray, for warm sunshine
4) I'VE REACHED MY 50 POUND WEIGHT LOSS MARK- WOO HOO!!

Some Chilean Woman said...

I like that you only have 26 followers 'cause you still remember my name.

kerstin said...

What are you complaining about? You've got shedloads of followers.
And a book deal.
Ok I'll follow you but I'll wait till I can be the 50th and win £500.

La Bête said...

Hey Marmite. That's the second time this week I've been accused of whining. I'm not complaining! Much.

Anyway, you've forced me to change the offer. Bad luck.

Follomifollomifollomifollomi...

kerstin said...

Fucking brilliant, that prize is worth well over £500 !
But can I come back to you if I ever feel any emotional pain again? Is this under guarantee?

La Bête said...

Yes, it is. The word 'guaranteed' is your clue there, but do be careful to read the small print.