“Are you scared of dying”?
One of the joys of living with she who must be obeyed is the certainty that she will launch into unexpected topics of conversation at the most unlikely venues. It’s hard to discuss the meaning of life when shopping for vegetables; and in this case, hard to discuss the fear factor involved with dying when you are trying to park the car in a space designed for a Tonka truck in an underground car park.
Being of a non-religious persuasion, I told her I had no fear of being dead; unless of course I was wrong about the religion thing and was destined to spend eternity bored out of my skull listening to harps, or perhaps being reincarnated as a Frenchman to punish me for my sins. But I did have some preferences as to how I should depart, the keyword being “quickly.” Indeed my preferred method of exit, for some years, has been in a (red) Ferrari travelling at 200 mph into a concrete bridge support, with the guitar solo near the end of Comfortably Numb on the stereo and the lady of my choice in the passenger seat. This scenario has of course (officially) been updated recently, to place she who must be obeyed in the passenger seat, although I would not wish her to be inserted into a concrete structure at high speed, so my back-up plan involves Jennifer Love Hewitt and a pre-impact dalliance involving Johnson’s Baby Lotion. But I digress.
“What will you do if I die first” she went on to ask me? Having explained that I had only married her to screw over my pension provider who will have to keep on paying her once I go, it was obvious that my immediate next step in the event of her demise would be to marry a 17 year old with a family history of long life, to ensure that I posthumously gained maximum advantage from my pension contributions. “But of course I would miss you” I added quickly, which seemed to satisfy her.
So, I am not scared of dying; although I do hope the issue does not raise itself for many years. Instead I try and pay attention to the latest media scare and get myself all worked up.
A year or so ago we were all donning face masks and preparing ourselves for a global pandemic of avian flu. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when; proclaimed earnest men and women in white coats who were desperate for research funding. They must have received the funding because the flu thing has gone quiet and it is now socially acceptable to lick a chicken.
Next there was Global Warming. We’re all going to cook, drown, run out of air and be forced to watch dreary documentaries with dubious statistics courtesy of failed American politicians. Hello carbon footprints and ridiculous cars with monster batteries which involved a rape of natural resources to be constructed; but which made semi-famous executives in California feel good about themselves. The men and women in white coats popped up again, fresh from their successes with bird flu, and demanded vast sums of cash so they could go on an expenses paid tour to the south pole and stick a thermometer in an iceberg. We’re all going to die; it’s the greatest challenge chasing humanity, we must all work together, we must…. hang on, we haven’t got any cash!
Bugger Global Warming, now we have the Global Financial Crisis which inevitably is going to lead to a recession, nay a depression; and a hefty increase in the price of ice cream. Sod the environment and that goose in the corner with a suspicious cough, this is serious. At least it will be until next week/month when the next crisis will turn up to attract our attention and give us something to worry about.
But these media stoked crises don’t scare me. There is only one thing that scares me right now, and that is *Dead Space. * In 1994 I bought a computer game called System Shock. Set on a space station, you spent your time wandering dimly lit corridors and being jumped by aliens. It was creepy, brilliant and I was so relieved to finish the damn thing. Five years later came the imaginatively named System Shock 2 which I bought but failed to finish because it scared me so much. So probably somewhat foolish to buy a copy of Dead Space which is a natural successor to System Shock, but taking full advantage of today’s technology to provide even more scares.
Once again you find yourself on a space station. It’s a place with dark areas, flickering lights, suspicious noises and a soundtrack which sounds like that point in horror movies where something really horrid is just about to happen. And all the noises are in 5.1 sound so you can hear something creeping up behind you. And the something is usually a dreadful looking creature which has to be dismembered before it bites your head off. There is a lot of gore. The development team studied photos of car crash victims to help everything look authentically bloody.
It’s scary, it’s very scary. I’m scared. I have played it for about half an hour then had to turn it off because the hairs on my arm were permanently standing on end and I don’t think that is good for my health. And, as mentioned above, I don’t want to die yet; as I have much that I have yet to do, and some of it involves Johnson’s Baby Oil.
Comments 🔗
2008-10-21| Jock saysHaving explained that I had only married her to screw …
Priceless …
2008-10-21| Spike saysUnfortunate editing of the sentence there Jock..