Rav Casley Gera’s Blog

“You’re pissed,” Andrew said. Then he pointed at himself. “Hypocrite warning!”

Andrew was taking the piss out of David Brent, a character invented to mock boring, boorish, insecure men. He was copying a pastiche of the unthinking, blind way men talk meaninglessnessly about drinking. But was he mocking the joke, endorsing the pastiche? Or was he endorsing the joke? Were we laughing at the joke or the pastiche? Were we endorsing witty observational humour, or thuggish stupidity? Or was it a pastiche of the pastiche? Was he demonstrating the cheapness of it, the snobbishness of it? Defending the right of men to boast mindlessly about booze? Richard’s mind reeled. There were too many levels, too many ironies, to process. Only one thing was certain.

Richard needed a drink.

When I was a teenager, I used to read the men’s fashion pages in magazines and newspaper supplements and just marvel at the prices. Bags costing hundreds of pounds! Suits costing thousands! I couldn’t believe clothes could cost so much.

Now, ten years later,

nothing has changed.

I’ve started a tumblelog. It’s a place for things insufficiently thought-out to go here, but not sufficiently personal to just share on Facebook. It may expand to become a magnificent multimedia repository; it may not. It may take on a wierd tone and need to be anonymised. It may remain a separate blog and subsume its cousin, Rav Idly Wonders. Or it may merge into here under its own category.

I

just

don’t know.

But you can find it here:

Ravindr

If you want.

UPDATE: Tumblog? Tumblelog? I don’t know. What do you think?

1999… Cologne, Germany. Bono calls on G8 to cancel all Third World debt. The G8 ignores Bono’s request.

Further proof that the perception of Bono’s self-importance comes not from his own feelings or statements, but the frequent lazily messianic coverage he gets.