Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Hammer Smash Enemy

::: Just in case it isn't clear what is going on in the post below, and why :::

The details of my situation are complicated and I won't go into them (ask me sometime, if you like). But the evidence for my conviction is strong. 

What can I say in short? Mobile phone liked me immediately because it found that I was one of those who is just a bit more susceptible than others to the high-risk factor of developing brain cancer from bullshit portable microwave ovens. Love at first sight. Isn't that sweet? So sweet it could make you vomit?

Now, I promised myself years ago that I would point out to people the dangers of wireless devices whenever an appropriate opportunity presented itself, including to my friends, and then after mentioning it I would not continue to drone on and preach about it. That simply wouldn't be fair, as these devices are so commonplace in nearly everybody's daily life that it's practically illegal to not own one. That, and it's tedious, it's boring, and no one wants to know, and obviously not everybody in the world is going to develop a brain tumour because they have a mobile phone (even though the chances of it happening sky-rocket as soon as you pick one of those things up). 

And yet I can't help shaking my head, or growling, or gritting my teeth, or making my little insinuations - as I have done throughout this blog, and in my little campaign, and every time I tell someone that I have a brain tumour. It is difficult enough to try to spit on my own head at the enemy within, but it is actually harder to let go of my resentment for the object I know played such a massive role. Perhaps I feel that I need something tangible to function as scapegoat? It certainly helps to be able to point a finger and retain hatred for a thing, and being angry is quite thrilling, really. But this is too simplistic, and the role of the thing in this whole scenario is far too prominent to let it pass by unnoticed. Brain turd, greatest enemy, you were born of a storm started by an object that interfered with my corporeal electricity.

So let's consider this post, right now, to be the official moment of a full declaration of hatred of the device that did this to me. That device, and its networks which are not being researched extensively and urgently enough to "prove" the risk factors to a logical-positivist public. The telecommunications industry is one of the most profitable in the world. As we know very well, there is nothing - including human lives - that will stop the capitalist appetite. Which company is going to actively encourage research that will damage its profits? Et cetera. My advice: quit wireless. (They should put that on the NHS). Cigarette, anyone?

That said, I'll now retreat to my low-level criticisms again. Who am I anyway? Cassandra? 

Enjoy the smash-up. I wasn't able to have it on video, unfortunately. That would have been slightly more exciting, although admittedly, for the sake of keeping pieces close by for the lovely stills, and for the sake of preventing shrapnel from flying around and endangering the cats' feet, I attacked the things inside a plastic bag. The original New Year's Eve smashing of several years ago was out on a road, covered in ice and snow, at midnight, and involved flying sparks and a lot more melodrama. What is in the photos below is a rather nice, tidy presentation. Well, whatever. Pretty pretty.

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