Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Some (profound and important) thoughts on «the beach»

I am at the beach building a dune buggy attack battalion (which may be of interest to William Hague and GCHQ). Mechanics needed. No timewasters.

Standing on the beach with a gun in my hand
Staring at the sea, staring at the sand
Staring at myself reflected in the eyes of my good friend Jaime E Greco

I can turn and walk away or I can fire the gun
Staring at the sky, staring at the sun
Whichever I choose it amounts to the same

My friend Simon went to the beach and all he got was this totally awesome shot of one the battleships from the auld Crass fleet.

Chewin' out a rhythm on my bubblegum
Sun is out and I want some
It's not hard, not far to reach
We can hitch a ride to Rockaway Beach

Up on the roof, out on the street
Down in the playground the hot concrete
Bus ride is too slow
They blast out the disco on the radio

Sous les pavés la plage. Et sous la plage.. la plage encore. Monsieur C loves the beach. «See you on yon beach» he said, perhaps a bit affectedly. And he meant it too, both in the physical and the metaphysical sense, but mostly in a sort of acceptance of his own lack of proximity to a literal beach. Luckily good auld Smita was kind enough to take him at his word. «C'est la plage!» says Monsieur C, «C'est la vie! Mais n'oubliez jamais, c'est la guerre en plus!»

I wish I was in a pub. Or in an abyss. Or at the beach. Or anywhere really.

The only bad beach I can think of is the film of the same name by Danny Boyle. Possibly the book is bad too but I'd never know because I will never read it.

The realisation that life is absurd cannot be an end, but only a beginning. This is a truth nearly all great minds have taken as their starting point. It is not this discovery that is interesting, but the consequences and rules of action drawn from it
— Albert Camus

Or whatever... See you on the beach.

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