Dennis told me to make a blog post, so this here is for people who are bored with their lives:
Here at TLC we have a love-hate relationship with banality. We know that without the general humdrum of bus timetables, dole meetings, inflation and lawn-mowing, that the extraordinary things in life wouldn’t be so extraordinary.
It can sometimes be hard to muster up the enthusiasm to put those sausages in the frying pan first thing in the morning when you know that you ate sausages yesterday and the day before that. The truth is that you can’t remember the last time you didn’t eat sausages for breakfast, and you wonder maybe if your day would be any different if you ate scrambled eggs instead. But you don’t like scrambled eggs, or cereal, or bacon, so you’re stuck in a monotonous loop of sausages. You sometimes buy the odd Cumberland to treat yourself, even though Cumberlands have 2% less pork content at the same price as the regular ones. Then you realize your life has turned into some sad bubble where you care more about what’s in your sausages than world hunger or over-population or all those other things that seemed so important in your post-adolescent-idealistic phase. You hate yourself for how petty your life has become, but deep down worry that when capitalism crumbles you won’t even be able to buy Richmonds anymore when everyone knows they are the worst sausages out there.
It can get you down when your life is nothing but waking up just to go back to sleep sixteen hours later. That feeling of being tiny compared to the sheer vast saturation of humans on this planet. That feeling that you need to escape, but you don’t know how, or where to, or who will feed your hamster while you’re gone. That feeling of sinking hollowness when you walk on the chests of billions of dead, and realize that nothing you will ever do can be new or individual. The feeling of hopelessness knowing that the people in charge of your lives, your bosses, teachers, policemen and politicians, are just other people who might not know what they are talking about. You can sometimes feel somewhere between a slug with a hang-over and a chimpanzee with a hard-on running around trying to hump everything.
While it’s important to take stock of these doubts, they aren’t the point of this blog post. It isn’t all that bad. Don’t worry, it will all be alright in the end. Chin up. Tomorrow’s another day. Positive thinking and all that other unhelpful shit.
I don’t care if you vote Tory or Labor. I’m not going to try and get you to save the planet by recycling your tampons. The point of this blog post is wonder.
It’s all too easy to fall into a sausage loop, but if you can remember the first time you ever ate a sausage (you probably can’t) you probably had a mouth-gasm at the meaty juicy explosion when your teeth broke the skin. The secret to happiness, or so we believe at TLC, is searching for the new extraordinary experiences whenever and wherever you can, becoming inspired by them, and offering others new and extraordinary experiences. Banality comes from understanding things so completely that they become boring. That is why the feeling of wonder is so electrifying, so bewilderingly beautiful. Nothing offers this sense of wonder like Art, the unanswerable vastness of possibility in Art, and the simplicity and complexity.
Fuck eating sausages every day for breakfast. Eat steak instead, or Ice-cream. Banality will only get the better of you if you accept it and lose that sense of wonder for the amazing and unanswered questions in the universe. Taste your shampoo, check the tissue after you’ve blown your nose, take a look at the bizarre section on RedTube, or reply to the crazy person in the street talking to himself. Don’t be scared of new experiences, because the worst that can happen in any situation is you’ll die, and you’ll be dead then so you won’t care. In the coming months TLC will be putting on a shit-load of events to evoke your sense of wonder. But don’t wait for us, do something fun, make something creative, then tell us about it so we can steal your ideas and make millions.
Compost on his soapbox.