Blaze and The Apocalypse
I think people are getting way too freaked out about just about everything. I thought I was a pessimist but the world is catching up and going past me. This is not a good thing. We need to start to focus much more on the all the good things in the world and believe me, there are many. As just one example check out the website https://www.optimistdaily.com/ for a daily dose of how through science, common sense and community there are good things happening all the time and everywhere.
See also the great book Progress by Johan Norberg. It is an excellent study of the worldwide improvements in health, education and income in a good straightforward presentation with lots of graphs.
I am not an idiot. We also need to face the complicated realities of this modern world and not everything is, as they used to say in the outposts of the English Empire, “Tickety –boo.”
Nevertheless we all need to chill a little, use some critical thinking and have a laugh. I say this because if we are not careful we are only going to be increasingly unhappy, stressed and even more misinformed.
Allow me to give you an example of how too much negative news can have very negative effects.
I went around to Blaze’s the other day. I haven’t been around in a while because he has a different job working nights and the last time I went around during the day I found him on his back deck on one of those poolside lounge things, stark naked and sound asleep. I had knocked on the front door a few times, avoiding using the doorbell, which for reasons that are sensible only to Blaze, plays ten seconds of the Herb Albert’s tune Tijuana Taxi at ear splitting volume when pushed. There was no answer so then I walked around the side to see what was what and stumbled on the unforeseen and unfortunately unforgettable scene. Blaze was sprawled on his back snoring, exhausted by honest toil, by his side an old Tom Clancy novel open on the deck where it had fallen from his hand. He was mumbling and looked a little thick if you follow me, so I beat a hasty retreat.
Any way when I pulled up at the front of his house this time I was astonished by the change. Blaze had removed all vegetation from his block of land. Trees, grass, shrubs and vines all gone. Given he usually only mowed twice a year or when a freelance goat was available the effect was startling and as you can imagine, as ugly as any forest clearfelling.
The man himself was at home and clothed this time. Very thoroughly clothed in a yellow hazard suit, gloves and boots all taped together with silver grey duct tape, He was also wearing two face masks, a bandanna tied around his face like a bank robber in a western, a hockey mask like serial killer Jason in the Friday the 13th movies, and a welder’s mask. I believe if a deep-sea diving mask had been available he would have worn that too.
“Mate I like what you have done to the place. But what the fuck with all the facial coverings?”
Blaze looked me in the eye and from what little I could see of his face he looked afraid, genuinely scared.
“Mate, these bushfires, they’re freaking me out, you can’t be too careful so I have created a fire break to help protect my property. And now in an almost biblical escalation of calamity there is a coronavirus. Mate, I never liked the beer much myself but a bit fucking rude to name a super virus after it. I would be suing their asses off if I was Corona.”
At least that is what I think he said, as he was a little hard to understand given the physical barriers between his mouth and my ears.
I need to explain a couple of things at this point. Now if you were the sort of person who had a drone with a video camera and if you took said drone, launched it and had it hover above Blaze’s house all you would see are curvy streets of more houses that look pretty much like Blaze’s. And plenty of roundabouts, let’s not forget them. Sure there are the occasional park or two and an oval about a kilometre away but the biggest danger in that suburb is dying of fucking boredom not bushfire.
“Blaze I reckon the nearest piece of bush or even farmland is at least ten kilometres away. In fact in this suburb you are lucky to find a tree taller than three metres. I think you might be overreacting a tad,” I offered.
“ Mate have you seen those embers fly? I am taking no chances.“
“Blaze I can’t understand a bloody word you’re saying. Perhaps you could ditch some of the layers. I’ve seen Egyptian mummies showing more skin. And besides you have never been to China, you haven’t even been to the local Chinese since that unfortunate argument about just what is a Peking Duck.”
He ignored my logical interpretation of the situation.
“I’m glad you’ve came over actually,” he said handing me a cold can of beer that was not Corona but some rather strange craft beer called a Tropical Ale. For fuck’s sake, at least with Corona you had a choice of adding the slice of lemon.
Now Blaze only hands around beer when either he has been released from incarceration or he wants you to help with a half assed plan that will mean hard work at least and the likelihood of physical danger and/or a police record.
“I need to build a moat.”
I looked closer at the back yard. There were a lot of empty spray-paint cans and two parallel white lines about two metres apart spray painted on the bare red earth. The lines laid out a two huge concentric circles whose further points briefly touched the side and back fences before disappearing around the front of the house.
I scratched my head.
“Blaze what you need a moat for? And presuming, which I very much doubt, that you do need a moat please tell me that you are not planning to dig it with a shovel.”
“No don’t be a fuckwit. I’m not going to dig it with a shovel but we can make a start till I save up enough to hire a backhoe.”
“Yeah but why a moat? “
Blaze took off the welders mask and the hockey mask, moves that which not only made him easier to hear but considerably less disturbing to look at.
“Because this is Australia and one thing for fucking sure is that after heat and fire the next thing to come will be pissing down rain. The End of days is nigh my friend, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, etc. etc. Black Sabbath, The Rapture The Stand and all of that“
See, this is what I mean. Blaze is not usually like this. He is the living embodiment of ignorance is bliss, laid back to the point of comatose. His place is where I go to chill and now it has happened to him too, way too much bad news, got the modern world blues.
I tried to jolly him up a bit.
“Blaze, are you getting all biblical Revelations on me?” This was not a pleasant thought given that when Blaze has the football he does tend to run with it all the way home. But he had wandered off to a point on the outside line near the side fence and had started digging.
Beer in hand I went and joined him and after finishing the can I started digging too. It was soothing. The soil was surprisingly loose and looked to my uneducated eyes quite good for growing all sorts of things. Perhaps a change of topic would be useful.
“Blaze”, I said, “Have you considered applying for a permit to grow medicinal cannabis?”
Six and conceivably many more Songs for The Apocalypse
When The Man Comes Around - Johnny Cash
666 The Number of the Beast - Iron Maiden
Five Years – David Bowie
It’s the End Of The World – REM
Survivalism – Nine Inch Nails
Any Death Metal track you could ever think of
