I have been looking for a way to waste the rest of my life. You know, to find an occupation, a cause, a fanatically consuming obsession which demands my every waking thought and calorie, and now I think I may have stumbled on it.
Reflecting on a recent conversation with the baker about the depth of glazing used on the most appealing currant buns I realised that my life was lacking urgency: a sense of purpose or drive; something larger than myself upon which I could squeeze that last drop of lemon juice which is my personality. That cause; which might lead me to stride by the diverting road to comfort and sea side holidays, and inspire me to seize the opportunity given to me by the whims of imagination. ‘By Accident’, and could that be a title for a book on the history of the world I wonder, I stumbled on the idea of updating poetry: once you grasp the concept, everything soon falls into place.
As a brief respite from reflecting on the meaning of existance, and the powerful choices in ‘life direction’ posed by television guides, I allowed my mind to drift briefly towards matters literary and dwelt on the line, “The pen is mightier than the sword”, and then, because I always do, I started to wonder what it was they were actually referring to. Are we talking a decent fountain pen here, with one of those gold nibs which may draw admiring glances, or even a goose feather, suitably trimmed to ensure maximum calligraphic flexibility or just any old biro such you might rediscover in the sock drawer after a night on the tiles.
We are nearing the age when no one will know what a pen was. This pithy, wisdom-rich gem will be lost in a soggy bed of obscurity and misunderstanding. After a brief thought period I translated it into what I consider to be a clearer and less obscure rendition with reference to modern artefacts. I stood back and said aloud, “The keyboard is stronger than the AK47” and sort of paused a bit. You know; let the moment drift and waited for that slow smile which greets the first appearance of His Eminence, the Lord of Genius.
I mean, think about it. You’re lounging around pretending to be in tune with a pleasing fresh supply of adolescents, while practising a range of electrically charged dance moves, and you sense the time has come to say something a bit edgy: out there, but not so far out that a telescope would be needed to see you, and then you murmur, “The keyboard is stronger than the AK47” and sure enough you get the “Yo’s” and “I couldn’t have put it better myself” and other street cred expressions which reveal you as being familiar with that “World of Wardrobe” or whatever that Playstation game is that my Ambassador to Youth spends so many hours playing. Already I am planning my new masterpiece “Beowulf does Disco”. Does it have the ring do you think?