101 Things #98 - The Pursuit of Enlightenment

So many of our cherished aspirations are trivial. Some wish to visit all the Disney resorts. Others want to drive rather fast or to be arrested for a minor offence. I have been examining, weighing up in a totally objective and non-biased way¹ and finally rejecting with disdain a stream of such notions and have documented this quest in this, my soon-to-be-completed series 101 Things I Refuse To Do Before I Die

At the other end of the wish-list spectrum we find far nobler intentions, often based on the desire to do good, to improve human understanding and society and to leave a positive mark that will forever enshrine one's memory in glory wherever great deeds are recounted [Jolly good stuff this, raises the tone: Ed]. Today I turn my attention to what some may see as the pinnacle of achievement for any person. Nonetheless, (and even though this is recommended by the website Edarabia.com), I shall not be seeking to

Gain enlightenment.

The problem with being enlightened is that there is no way to measure it. I may think you are enlightened. You may regard yourself as perfectly ordinary. I may think that I am enlightened. You may regard me as a deluded moron with a ridiculously inflated sense of self-worth. How on earth do we tell? After some painstaking research [The usual quick bit of Googling: Ed] an article published by Charles A. Francis, a contributor to the Huffington Post suggested itself. It lists twelve qualities of the enlightened but I got hopelessly stuck on the first one, which I now reproduce:

1. Happiness The enlightened person is happy and joyful. He has a cheerful disposition most of the time, and is willing to share that joy with others. He is always optimistic that all challenges have a resolution. Even though the resolution may not be the most desirable, he is confident that he is capable of being at peace with it.

Older readers brought up in Britain will recall the radio programme The Goon Show. The gifted comics created a range of ludicrous characters, mostly based on the weird imagination of chief writer Spike Milligan and it was Spike who voiced the part of Eccles. Eccles (usually introduced as "The famous Eccles"), was deeply placid and easily satisfied, and the stupidest person ever depicted on radio. His catchphrase for almost any peril or indignity in which he found himself was to mutter (in Spike's mild Irish accent) "Fine, fine, everything's going to be fine". I find it impossible not to associate enlightenment attribute no 1, as described by Mr Francis, with the moronic but utterly content Eccles.

In fact, all the attributes of the enlightened are simply extrapolations of  human virtues. Being good to others, being unselfish, all that sort of thing. All perfectly acceptable but why seek to "gain enlightenment" in that case? Why not just do it? Why not just live your life in a way that seeks to do no harm to others, and maybe assists them from time to time, and be content with that?

There is a paradox in the pursuit of enlightenment. Those who do not seek it may well have it. Those who go after it almost certainly are not and probably never will be. The moment you walk down the street intoning "I am truly enlightened. Hearken unto me for I wish to spread my teachings amongst you" is the moment that you are probably round the bend. I say probably, for in this game you never really know if the enlightenment has really struck or it simply looks like it. 

I don't disdain enlightenment. I simply refuse to attempt to gain it. 


Footnote
1. All content has been checked and strictly vetted according to the Ramblings Code of Publishing ("RCP") by the Editor. If you have issues, take it up with him, alright?
[I'm not in all mornings, and certainly not next Tuesday because I have to go to the dentist: Ed]

2. The RCP may be obtained on application to the office enclosing an SAE, a postal order for £17.00 and a signed Non-Disclosure agreement("NDA")

3. The NDA may not be disclosed, nor its contents made known under pain of very strict penalty indeed: don't mess with us on this one, we don't take prisoners when it comes to protecting our NDA. [Actually I think I may have lost my copy. If anyone has a spare, kindly let me know: Ed]

101 Things #97 - Celebrity Special

There are not many more pieces to go before reaching the utterly arbitrary number of 101, chosen to make a resounding title for the series that will forever be known as 101 Things I Refuse To Do Before I Die. Along the way I have been plundering the enthusiastic suggestions of bucket-listers upon which to pour some well-honed expressions of disdain; today, however, I shall feature a topic straight from the heart.

Wherever possible, I resolve not to

Buy anything promoted by a celebrity.

A series of advertisements has run recently on television for a business that offers to buy cars from the public, guaranteeing a purchase every time (with the obvious downside that the prices will be pretty low). They choose to explain this not by examples of car prices, not by showing how easy it is to ask for an offer, but by focussing entirely on a TV presenter and showing him posing with his cat or pretending, with the aid of obvious computer imagery, to do fancy football skills in the street. I am not going to name the business or the presenter, but I am aware of the campaign and the consequence is simple. I will not under any circumstances sell my car to these people.

Of course this is an easy one. I only replace my car every six years or so and am quite happy to either sell it privately or as part-exchange. I am using this as an example of the pervasive power of celebrity culture in our consumer society. Whatever reason one may have to buy from a business, the stupidest has to be because they have paid someone well-known in some other capacity to front an advert. Bearing in mind the celeb may know nothing whatsoever about the products, the people who make and sell them, the technology, the ethos, the business practices and the history of the company they are being paid to represent, it seems incredible that anyone can take such things seriously. But clearly many do or such adverts would never be made.

To give some further examples of inanity - there is a high street bank that has nothing to say about its customer service or range of facilities but shows a couple of people well known as TV presenters apparently inspiring the bank's own staff with a series of business initiatives. Yes, how amazingly convincing and believable. The funniest, presumably unintended, aspect of the ad is that the bank staff (I assume they are real bank staff but of course they may all be actors) are all shown being utterly amazed at the trite ideas and stupid puns. My reaction would be to shift all my cash from that bank at once; as in fact I have done this some years ago it is no further consequence.

There is a well known cruise operator who feature a well known comedian and TV quiz show host filmed saying how wonderful the cruises are. Well, he would, wouldn't he? Offer me (and Mrs C) an all-in freebie like that and I'd manage one or two kind remarks.

I'm not going to labour this point as there are plenty of examples. Advertising is so endemic in all our media (and the reason why much of it exists) and if anything is becoming more endemic as the number of TV and radio channels grows, streaming of TV and films becomes increasingly important and newspapers are forced to fill their pages with ads in order to survive. Celebrities are newsworthy and attract viewers and readers. With the current woes caused by the covid-19 outbreak and enormous economic uncertainty across the world, it is easy to predict an increase in the obsession with celebrities as form of escapism, just as the golden age of Hollywood came on the back of the great depression of the 1930s. But that doesn't mean we at Ramblings Towers have to like it.

Boycotting those most offensive advertisers is a start. But will it be noticed? Will not the marketing people, once they have come back from their four-hour lunch at the wine bar, review the sales figures and conclude that even more celebrity exposure is the answer to plummeting demand? I always bear in mind the reaction of religious fundamentalists to catastrophe. Whatever happens, the reason is always that the people were not religious enough, not sufficiently devoted and penitent. Nobody ever opines that maybe God, or the Virgin Mary, or the Prophet or whoever is just downright sick of being prayed to and endlessly supplicated. Nope, as soon as there is an earthquake or flood¹ then the finger points firmly at those who let the side down by angering the deities (as interpreted by their self-appointed representatives on earth). If having a celebrity fronting an ad campaign is a matter of faith then that faith will only be strengthened through adversity.

"Send us even more glamorous and well-recognised stars" the admen will intone "And we will deliver you to the promised land of a 4% increase in like for like sales come the next Black Friday (terms and conditions applying to all our promises, naturally")².

This is not a campaign I expect to win. I shall go down fighting to the end, despising celebrity culture without compromise or pity. Oh, and if you could get that famous actor off the tele with the cheeky grin to say a few words at my memorial service, that would be awesome. Bless. Love your work.


Footnotes:
1. The response to the Lisbon earthquake of 1755 is a classic in this field.
2. The more famous the celebs the higher the fee. The higher the fee the greater the cut going to the ad agency. The higher the ad spend, the higher must be the company marketing budget and the higher the budget the higher must be the salary, expenses and bonus awarded to the marketing director and his team. It's so beautiful I could weep.

101 Things #96 - Cuddles for Nothing

Telling people to act in ways that they would normally never do is meat and drink to compilers of bucket-lists, these earnest sets of instructions and perhaps inspiration to others seeking goals and directions in their lives. Equally, a resolute will to ignore, spurn and scorn them is at the heart of my anti-bucket-list compilation 101 Things I Refuse To Do Before I Die. Chucked into the mouldering heap of rejects today is the suggestion found on Bucket List.net (albeit in a section entitled crazy bucket list ideas), to

Give a free hug to a stranger on the street.

At the time of writing, the world is gripped by the threat of the corona virus known as covid-19. Emanating from China in late 2019, it has become worldwide since early March.  The UK and most countries in the world are on lockdown and avoidance of all social interactions is a top priority.

Since this virus is spread through close contact, hugging strangers is definitely out. Indeed, even the customary handshakes at the start of football matches between all the players and officials had been banned by the FA before the lockdown began - though at the end of Wealdstone's match against Dulwich in March, the Stones players were happy to hug each other as they celebrated a win.

Let us assume we are in happier times and that no medical considerations impede our relations with others. Can the free-hug-stranger concept be endorsed? Of course not! Here is why.

Humans have a well-founded reason to be wary of strangers. Only young children, whose knowledge of the world is that everything is fun, are happy to be picked up by those they don't know and they soon lose this delightful naivety. Throughout our history (and long pre-history, no doubt), the stranger was a possible threat. Was he intruding on your territory? Did he conceal a weapon? We can see in the behaviour of primates the concept of our group and the rest, and the rest are always treated with suspicion. Of course some human cultures stress good manners to guests but these are overlays on top of our more basic instincts.

If a stranger was to hug me without warning I should be alarmed and angered. I have been the victim of pickpocketing and it was worked through a sudden contact. I positively do not want strangers to get closer to me than is normal. Nor do I wish to be the hugger; there is enough anxiety in city life without me groping others out of the blue.

The concept of a "free" hug, which appears to be central to the Bucket List.net people, is one that needs a little consideration. If "free" is to have any meaning, then we must posit that a business based on charging for hugs might be workable. Otherwise all hugs would be free and there would no point in making this part of a bucket-list objective.

Perhaps paid-for hugs, maybe offered by a company called HugsPeople™ (see below for more about this exciting concept that I've just invented) could become a thing if sufficiently funded by some viral YouTube videos and a decent Kickstealer¹ campaign. Customers could purchase book of stickers, which, when worn prominently, would attract a HugsPeople™ Associate who would give the required close and crushing grip before deftly peeling off and pocketing the sticker and wishing the huggee [I don't like it, it's not a word but what can I do? Ed] a nice day. Therefore, once this practice was widespread and accepted as normal, it would become terribly meaningful and altruistic to give free hugs - the huggee thereby either saving one of their precious stickers or not needing to buy one.

"Thank you, thank you stranger" they might say as you released them and the two of you stood there smiling at each other, while passers-by wiped away tears and focussed their phone cameras "I used up my last hug sticker a week ago and I just didn't know where the next one was to come from, what with my husband doing six months in Pentonville and my sister's bad knee and the bailiffs trying to collect £98,000 in gas bills that the company says must be accurate even though they haven't checked the meter for five years and, oh, it was all getting on top of me, but your hug has put everything right again. Bless you, stranger".

That all seems perfectly right and plausible, does it not? But until the paid-for hug is normal, it is terribly hard to understand what a free hug might be. I wonder if they meant spontaneous? This would suppose there are would-be huggees wandering around with open arms waiting for a hugger to pounce, but the free hugger deliberately picks someone who is not showing these signs. However that might simply mean that they don't wish to be hugged. And there are few things more embarrassing than a huggee turning their back on you just as you pounce, leaving you clasping yourself and probably staggering out of balance.

Another meaning might be taken from the climbing world, where free climbing means no ropes or pitons, no use of nuts or chocks or bolts and all the clever technical stuff that stops one from encountering the ground somewhat sooner than intended. Free hugging must therefore surely lead on to extreme hugging and hug marathons. Huggers would seek to complete ridiculous numbers of hugs in a set time, or to hug specific types of person - say two nuns, a clown, a hot-dog vendor, three chartered accountants and at least one illegal immigrant within twenty four hours. Huggers with GoPro cameras would stalk minor celebrities with thousands following a live stream. The world of strictly amateur but highly competitive hugging would expand one way whilst the pros, sponsored by companies such as HugsPeople™, would enter the Olympics and have a World Pro hugging cup on alternate years.

This is clearly a descent into madness. I beg you not to go there. We can stop this insanity right now and right here, by refusing to hug and by disdaining all who do. Fellow citizens, your choice is clear and I commend it to you. And no slapping me on the back as I leave the stage, we all know what that might lead to.

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    Readers!     

Announcing the launch of HugsPeople™

New from Ramblings of Ruislip. 

If you have been inspired by the idea of the paid-for hug, this is your chance to subscribe now and be in at the start of a social interaction revolution. Send all you have to the usual address and you will be inscribed in the HugsPeople™ Register of Founders.

HugsPeople™ is (or will be, if we can get enough backers) registered in Panama or Liberia or wherever is cheapest.There may or may not be Terms and Conditions depending on whether we can be bothered to knock a few out.

[There isn't actually a trade mark registered yet for HugsPeople but it's the first thing we'll be doing once we get a bit of cash in, alright? Ed]

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Footnote:
1. I would not dream of impugning the well known financial launch site Kickstarter. I am sure that in no way would they take a totally relaxed attitude to people taking money from supporters then failing to deliver. My light-hearted japery in invoking the mythical Kickstealer is not intended to suggest that Kickstarter effectively supports criminals, even though this is, sadly, the case, and I can prove it.

That Missing "Ten Years Ago" panel

Regular readers will note that the popular "Ten Years Ago" panel, normally displayed in the column to the right of the blog, is missing. This is because I am no longer able to update it. The Save button on the form used to identify which posting is to go in the panel does not work.

I have sought for help online without success, since Google's standard method of dealing with questions that they cannot answer is to mark them as closed and locked.

I thought "Ah-ha - I shall delete the gadget and recreate it." Well, the deleting part worked just fine. But the recreation failed with the same problem - it refused to allow anything to happen when I tried to save it to the design and therefore it no longer displays at all.

If it proves possible to restore this feature I shall do so. Meanwhile, feel free to exercise your own skill and judgement by using the Blog Archive panel to browse the rich history of this site.

Update 26 April.
I learn that I am not alone with this problem and others are equally frustrated at being unable to maintain their blogs. Perhaps there will be a solution.

Update to the update 28 April
It's been fixed. Ten Years Ago is back in its rightful slot. Thank you, Google.

101 Things #95 - Flowers for the One You Love

A rich source of inspiration for some of these little pieces of invective, in which I submit the bucket-list ideas of others to a little light degradation, has been the website Bucket List Journey, so it will come as no surprise that once again I putting one of their recommendations under the spotlight. The latest candidate for enrolment in the Academy of Awfulness, a.k.a. 101 Things I Refuse To Do Before I Die is to

Send flowers to yourself.

I suppose the strap-line should be something like "Because you're worth it" but I think another business has registered that one.

Why should you do this? Buying flowers to adorn one's home, or maybe to display on a desk in the office, sure. Mrs C. is certainly partial to the odd bunch. But why would you want to send them to yourself and why should this be something so notable that it is worth inscribing on a bucket-list to be done at all costs before the men in white coats take away your money and hide the keys to the front door? Could it be that this is how it is supposed to work out?

Scene: You and a couple of BL high achievers are comparing notes. Naturally the conversation is in American English.
BL1: "I ran a marathon on all seven continents within one month"
BL2: "Gee, that's great but hear this - I went to the best restaurant in Bologna and ordered one of everything on the menu, and ate the lot"
BL1: "Really neat. What did you do, RR?"
RRC:  "Me. Oh nothing special. Just sent myself a bouquet of daffodils, that's all. They only cost £8 plus £15 delivery from Ruislip Florists."
BL2: "Wow."
BL1: "Neato deluxe."
BL2: "Sensational, RR, you scooped us real good."
RRC: "Ah shucks, it was nothing, hey you guys will get round to it one day, I'm sure of it."
BL1: "I don't know about that. You're in a league of your own, dude, you really are. I'm so proud just to be in the same room as you."

Well, as Harry Hill used to say, you get the idea with that.

I also like to imagine what happens when there is that ring on the doorbell.

Scene: Your house. The doorbell rings. You answer it. The delivery man thrusts a bouquet into your arms.
 "Mr Commuter? Flowers for you, guv."
"Flowers? I ...someone sent me flowers?"
"Yes, guv. Here's your name on the label"
"It must be a mistake"
There's no mistake. I was in the shop when you ordered them."
"Flowers? For me? Oh, how wonderful. I'm so excited. Who on earth could have sent them?"
"You did, mate. It was you. I saw you."
"I'm so happy. I can't believe that I remembered. I thought I didn't care, maybe it was all over between us. But now this. In my wildest dreams I could never have imagined I liked myself so much"
"Bleedin' hell, mate, give it a rest"
And he goes back to his van and you whirl about your living room.

Fade to black. Roll end credits. House lights up.

I think I have made my case. We'll leave it here, I think. No flowers, by request.