‘What does it mean to be a human being living in this universe,’ I asked myself thoughtfully, ‘what is the significance of this situation?’ Not that I cared of course – I ask myself these questions as a kind of empty ritual, no more. It’s just a thing that I do. ‘What does it mean to exist,’ I mused, ‘how are we to understand the phenomenon of existence? What determines that we should come into existence? What indeed determines that there should be such a thing as existence in the first place?’
I was on my way to Bathroom World. I was going to buy myself a new shower curtain as the old one had grown mouldy with time. Perhaps I would buy myself a new shower mat too. That was the first thought that went through my head that morning. ‘I’m going to go to Shower World,’ I thought, ‘that’s what I’m going to do.’ I never actually followed through with this thought however – I never do. It’s just another of those empty rituals I guess – my life is full of them.
I had invented a new desert – Pear and Pilchard Delight, with super-fluffy whipped cream from an aerosol can and a light dusting of toasted yeast flakes. I put it in my book of recipes straightaway. Only the best recipes go into this book – I won’t tolerate any rubbish. I always do my best work earlier on in the day – the ideas come thick and fast and there’s no denying them. ‘Let the ideas out,’ I said to myself, caught up in the exuberance of the moment. ‘Let the ideas out, let the ideas out. Never deny them.’ They won’t ever come to anything I know but I have to let them out anyway.
The ideas hop about in my head like so many fleas. They hop like crazy. Wild ideas, bizarre ideas, ideas that the world isn’t ready for yet. Dangerous ideas, sometimes. Some of them are unpleasant, tinged with a sickness to so terrible that I can’t bring myself to talk about them, but I let them out all the same. I turn them loose. I release them into the big wide universe, for better or for worse, good or for ill. ‘You are my children,’ I tell them, ‘depart now and see what the world has in store for you.’ I never knew what life had in store for me when I came into the world, come to think about it. I was clueless. But that’s the way it goes, isn’t it? That’s always the way it goes. Should someone have explained it to me? Quite possibly they should have done, but they didn’t. ‘Look, it’s like this,’ they should have said, ‘you’re going to have to practice hard being an idiot, you’re going to have to practice hard day and night. And then – maybe – one day, at a more advanced stage of your life – you might be able to get it right. You can stop practising then and join the human race.’
They never tell you this, however. They will never tell you that the basic requirement for acceptance in this world is to become a total fool. Instead they want you to guess it. They want you to work it out yourself. Every time you say something that’s actually true they’ll slap you around the side of your head roughly and say ‘try again, numbhead’. So you keep on trying, your ears ringing. Eventually you’ll cop on – if you’re not too thick – and then you’ll be awarded some kind of certificate. They’ll throw a party for you. You’ll become a Professor of Advanced Codology which qualifies you to teach other people. You can teach them what you know so well – how to be a complete and utter idiot.
Well class, I will say, today we’re going to learn about why bats nest in teapots and how the moon is green. We’re go to learn about triffids and tangerines and termites and tomatoes and why small children should be heard but never seen. I grow angry when they mock me. ‘How dare you mock me,’ I squawk indignantly, like a bad-tempered old parrot that has had its feathers rubbed up the wrong way, ‘Don’t you know that I’ve got a PhD in how to be a total knob?’ The kids these days have no respect, they should be taught a lesson. What sort of lesson I don’t know, some kind of lesson. Something quite pointless, ideally. In keeping with the noble ethos of our age.
We have to let out our thoughts you see – however offensively stupid they might be. That’s very important. Don’t be afraid of making a total ass of yourself. It’s very important to make a total ass of yourself, you see. Trust me on that one. Humiliate yourself as much as you can and you might actually learn something! It’s unlikely but you might do. It’s always possible. Stranger things have happened. I’m rooting for you, anyway. In my past life I was a Great Hero – I know that for a fact. In this life I can’t seem to get my finger out of my ass, however.
