Meaning. madness and Shite TV

A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.
Friedrich Nietzsche
German philosopher (1844 - 1900)
“Have you ever fallen into a mental space where even the slightest detail seems excrutiatingly overburdened with meaning?”
Thats just the typical jargon riddled silliness that I’d come to expect from my friend and sometime persecutor Umberto Vlok. (aka Big Jim)
But being of a rather sensible disposition, especially since the course of ECT that I got for half price in Panama, I felt obliged to nudge Big Jim back towards a semblance of sanity.
“Ja Nee ou maat - it happened once when I confused the dosage of my anti-psychotics, tranquilizers and Tic Tacs - think it was the Tic Tacs that done it!”
“But have you never thought that we are surrounded by meaning, tips, hints, intimations of a world that makes sense?”
“Ummm not really - not since arriving on this planet. I once believed in fate but my pot smoking lesbian neighbours cured me of that.”
Anyway we rambled on in a similar vein for some time before the Tannie at the next table intervened.
“Jislaaik julle twee kan sommer kak praat - why don’t you go home an watch the Rugby like good Safricans!”
I did go home but instead of the Rugby decided to watch a particular episode of Only Fools and Horses for the 17th time certain that I had missed something the other 16 times. Then my mind started drifting towards matters of deep and dark significance.
“Isn’t it better to die living than to live dying?”
“Maybe if I cut off my ear I could sell my series of 213 portraits of my favourite toothbrush”
“I better start doing my life’s work before I get fired!”
“Why did the lady at the till give me THAT look ?!?”
I was starting to panic - had Umberto infected my brain with some nano virus?
What if I really am supposed to make a difference in my job, save the company and discover a new and improved toilet seat!
I reached frantically for the remote which was sinisterly just out of reach and started flicking through the channels in desperate need of solace and salvation.
Shit no Top Gear, Masterchef or Weakest Link.
I was begining to sweat - my mouth was dry and stomach filled with wasps (Much worse than butterflies!)
Then in that last terrible moment before falling into the abyss I had an epiphany - I didn’t need to go mad. I could regain control. I was flooded with a feeling of pure joy as I took off my Steel capped safety boot and threw it with all my might at the TV. Woooohoooo - fuck DSTV I’m bigger than that. I’ll go play in the hills and valleys and shopping centres.
I had found FAITH, I was bigger than TV.
When the nice men came to take me to a safe place they gave me a nice big injection and just as I was drifting off the man tightening the straps said
“Hey don’t worry bru - there’s a TV right above your bed!”
AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH


