I blog therefore I am

How great it is to go partying and over-indulging in these days of festivities. Hurray for the birth of Christ—He who came to take the sins of the world and hated all materialism. And to celebrate His birth we feast till our guts need gutting even in these oh-so-austere days.

It was also most poignant of the Pope to attack materialism and ask all us Christians to try keeping Christmas holy and not materialistic. As one atheist said to a few other heathens: “Oh God how apt that the king of pomp and glory decries our materialistic ways while dressed to the nines in shining clothes and sitting on a shinier throne and holding a marvellously bejewelled mitre. ”Not sure what the Saviour would do when confronted with such mighty effrontery.

But I rail and rant like an old man. Oh bugger—I am an old man or well on the road to joining the old brigade, the damned geezers who are so so sweet but then forget all the reasons for being sweet. Does dementia still afflict you when you turn up at the pearly gates? If this is so then we and other assorted folk like serial sinners, divorcees, gay paraders and fundamentalist Catholics might scrape through the gates.

When grilled about our sins and fundamental beliefs by the St Peter brigade at heaven’s passport control we might plead forgetfulness when quizzed about our ways on earth. Senility be praised would be the everlasting mantra of the atheists’ union in heaven.

How sad am I to rant on these days of festive fun—and from ranting I went straight to mentioning dementia and dying. This must be the effect of too much food and some extra alcohol. And now that I am blogging I should get myself a less boring quest than just finding fault with all around me and find a few things to applaud.

OK: let’s get back to partying and the everlasting effects of fun. Well the only long lasting effects are on the flab compartment and on the serial killing of our brain cells through strangulation. While eating and imbibing myself into a sweet stupor a great friend of mine introduced me as Malta’s latest bugger. Merriment and surprise gripped his friend—the one I was being introduced to. I perspired profusely. I’ve been very interestingly introduced in my life but bugger really seemed over the top or, more aptly, the bottom. Thoughts of how awful I’m being with this blog raced through my mind—in those few nano-seconds where all is motionless and all is viewed from some high tower of knowledge in suspended animation I promised I must stop blogging if I am bugging people so much…or worse than bugging people.

And this friend who was doing the introducing was hardly a fiend: he is in fact one of my best friends and there was no humour or irony in his face or in his intention. We then cleared it all—the friend had introduced me as a “blogger” so we all sighed a great sigh of relief and you dear reader can suffer on, reading my pieces in this blog.
As one philosopher who came too early in life would have loved to have said, I blog therefore I am (a bugger).

Twit for twat

Blogging is for blockheads and tweeting is for twats. I promised myself –actually I promised my wife and children –not to be rude on the blogosphere. But that word—twat—was used by none less than the Prime Minister of that land of freedom and liberty and lovers of silliness, Britain. Sorry Great Britain. What are they great at? At being twats I imagine that lovely couple Sarkozy and Merkel muttering. What a duo, what a tandem. Could Carla-the ex-Bruni, ex nude model, ex-singer and now loving mother—be just a bit jealous? Can Merkel have some potent stuff to get the French president to love her dearly? Both, I imagine, order him around so all is well in the French court.

Back to Dave Cameron. He was quite a twat himself because he made fun of tweeting at a time when tweeting and all things twee make you look modern. And they—tweeting and blogging and facebooking—also help you capture a different audience and assist you in getting your message across. Mind you Cameron lately, with his pack of EU sceptic followers who should all be dumped into some septic tank, is turning out to be quite a horrific twat. Actually he always was but he did at least get rid of that horrid Gordon Brown. Does anyone still remember that bungling oaf? Only decent and human thing Brown did was give his resignation speech. It was so poignant and full of feeling. Like Alfred Sant –can we ever forget him?--both should have kept a low profile, advised and helped some stooge take over as prime minister and both would have been ideal—if somewhat frightening—powers behind the throne. L’eminence grise I think it is called in the French language—remember that language?

Maybe that is why Dave Cameron is so strongly opposed to getting the EU back on track. He worries that with the new love between mercurial Sarko and angelic Merky they could get hold of Europe and turn us into frog and kraut speakers. Oh that was another promise I made to whoever keeps track of promises—not to be too politically incorrect. If that happens might as well resign as human being and become fully German.

Watch this space for more blogging and questions a-begging stuff. Actually blogging is now outdated—the right thing is called something else. Trust me to start doing it when it is nearing its final repose. I’ll go learn something else to keep myself and all the uninitiated fully updated and informed.

And back in the days when hippies were cool and gay still denoted a state of merriment I’d have said I need to be and seem hip to keep up with today’s new technology.

Finally—all the ones who are offended by the above please forgive me. But go on and admit it to yourself: if you take offence at my spewed garbage you are truly twats.