Life or living hell?
Tony had been ill for some years, the result of smoking, drinking and inactivity or so it seemed. Mum and Dad had had circulatory problems that had not ended pleasantly and similar early signs were beginning to manifest in him in his late 30's. Work had become impossible, too many children meant he was better off not anyway, a choice he had made well before now. It was not an ideal family life that had spawned and nutured Tony, youngest sister Anne or younger brother Eric; 5 years spanned their births. Father had been 20 years older than Mum and marriage had lasted only a few years beyond the birth of Anne, acrimony was to last quite a few more years than breeding had.
He was an intelligent boy when young and won a scholarship to a private school, from where later he was to be expelled due to his wild behaviour. The ubiquitous, northern offspring trap was sprung again and there was then no escape from northern hell. The contraceptive pill continued to emancipate scheming women, cruelly inflicting unwanteds upon the wild and carefree in order to limit the victim socially and squeeze their life away. Not much changes even today, compliance and efficacy remain poor, nor even the stupidity of men who continue to be entrapped so easily. Is the ludicrous government action in 'support' of the children harming rather than addressing the real issues?
It didn't last and he took up with another with (1) anothers fruit. Much more production quickly followed and this population was perpetuated further. Is this the only future for a lost people with no hope, to propagate generation upon generation until another perfect species is born? Tony, Eric and Anne had 11 in all, two more generations and over 200 would result at the going rate. Tony didn't see the gene-pool exponential growth materialise, but it is doing nicely at the time of writing.Tony at 40 had in the previous year undergone major aortic surgery and was now dependent upon artificial tubes to keep the blood flowing to his lower extremities. Sky sport and Captain Morgan had been the most important features of his life. A recently gifted chariot enabled him to venture out where once only shanks allowed, and they of course didn't work so well under a newly installed artificial fuel delivery system. Life seemed on the up and reliance on TV and booze waned a little.
A new life developed, one where rum and sport played a less supportive role. The old chariot was replaced by a shiny new carriage and with it a renewed sort of friendship with his ailing mother. She was housebound with a prosthetic device which stood in the corner unused whilst a wheel chair was becoming the end of her life. A weekly trip to Tesco in the shiny became her escape, allowing her to embarrass all who assisted once more. Out of self adminstered painful duty comes self administered righteosness; so symbiotic relationships are formed.
Anne was by now on her fourth failed indoctrination into the institution, was mimicing example perfectly and providing perfect examples for 4 future mimics to blindly follow. It was her turn to be on the outside of the feuding triplet (Mum, Tony and Anne; Eric had escaped South to University 20 years earlier), jealousy is such an ugly thing. Tony had the shiny splattered with brake fluid, by a fellow sink estater presumably or maybe another even closer to home? Who knows, anything goes in this desperate and disparate world.
It seemed years had gone by and from month to month it was difficult to know who had done what to who, and who was not ever talking again to who. Eric was well out of it, barely keeping track of the latest failures in relationships of the others and never taking sides or offering support to the infighting. This is how it is in countless families where there is no hope and existence, vodka and fags rule.
Late spring, 1999 Tony became ill again. His legs failing to adequately carry blood, and so him, as designed; once more the vascular system was compromised. Many accounts were relayed to Eric by Tony’s wife, and he kept in touch with the hospitals; firstly in his birth town and then in Manchester. It seemed so up and down and not at all promising, a repeat artificial revascularisation was proposed but events were to take over. On many occasions Eric might have travelled North and visited the hospital but didn’t until a weekend in September that year. Tony had been in intensive care and the calls that week were not giving a favourable picture. Travelling up early Saturday morning, the full horror was worse than could have been expected, the legs were showing similar signs to what he had observed 25 years earlier with his Father. He was in Sepsis with renal failure and a machine was doing the vitals for him. It was difficult to see any signs that he was at all compus mentis and the picture appeared very bleak. The bleach was not doing its work on the infection and multiorgan failure was ready to be written on the certificate. At 9 O’clock that evening it was, death begins at 39 and took three years.
Life began at 39 for Eric in the following year; he paid a visit to Mother with his new love, they lived at the other end of the country to her (and the other remaining full sibling; trapped in the home town). With prior warning came a sober meeting, which resulted in many ‘as long as you’re happy’’s and other un-substantive cliches. He knew they were only words, an idea that was supported by history and by the many second hand recounts of the gathering. That it was a deranged mind(s), the booze(rs) or enebriated deranged mind(s) is anyones guess, but the accounts bore little resemblence to reality. Reality is a forlorn hope when sodden minds receive stimuli beyond their comprehension.
Father died in 1974 (59), Tony in 1999 (42), Mother in 2001 (66). Anne (44) is drinking, smoking, thin and without hope by all accounts, Eric is 46. How can such a ruinous path be followed generation after generation with such ignorance. How can it result in such incongruent lives, where the lucky escape and the rest fall by the wayside?
Eric 2nd January 2007
He was an intelligent boy when young and won a scholarship to a private school, from where later he was to be expelled due to his wild behaviour. The ubiquitous, northern offspring trap was sprung again and there was then no escape from northern hell. The contraceptive pill continued to emancipate scheming women, cruelly inflicting unwanteds upon the wild and carefree in order to limit the victim socially and squeeze their life away. Not much changes even today, compliance and efficacy remain poor, nor even the stupidity of men who continue to be entrapped so easily. Is the ludicrous government action in 'support' of the children harming rather than addressing the real issues?
It didn't last and he took up with another with (1) anothers fruit. Much more production quickly followed and this population was perpetuated further. Is this the only future for a lost people with no hope, to propagate generation upon generation until another perfect species is born? Tony, Eric and Anne had 11 in all, two more generations and over 200 would result at the going rate. Tony didn't see the gene-pool exponential growth materialise, but it is doing nicely at the time of writing.Tony at 40 had in the previous year undergone major aortic surgery and was now dependent upon artificial tubes to keep the blood flowing to his lower extremities. Sky sport and Captain Morgan had been the most important features of his life. A recently gifted chariot enabled him to venture out where once only shanks allowed, and they of course didn't work so well under a newly installed artificial fuel delivery system. Life seemed on the up and reliance on TV and booze waned a little.
A new life developed, one where rum and sport played a less supportive role. The old chariot was replaced by a shiny new carriage and with it a renewed sort of friendship with his ailing mother. She was housebound with a prosthetic device which stood in the corner unused whilst a wheel chair was becoming the end of her life. A weekly trip to Tesco in the shiny became her escape, allowing her to embarrass all who assisted once more. Out of self adminstered painful duty comes self administered righteosness; so symbiotic relationships are formed.
Anne was by now on her fourth failed indoctrination into the institution, was mimicing example perfectly and providing perfect examples for 4 future mimics to blindly follow. It was her turn to be on the outside of the feuding triplet (Mum, Tony and Anne; Eric had escaped South to University 20 years earlier), jealousy is such an ugly thing. Tony had the shiny splattered with brake fluid, by a fellow sink estater presumably or maybe another even closer to home? Who knows, anything goes in this desperate and disparate world.
It seemed years had gone by and from month to month it was difficult to know who had done what to who, and who was not ever talking again to who. Eric was well out of it, barely keeping track of the latest failures in relationships of the others and never taking sides or offering support to the infighting. This is how it is in countless families where there is no hope and existence, vodka and fags rule.
Late spring, 1999 Tony became ill again. His legs failing to adequately carry blood, and so him, as designed; once more the vascular system was compromised. Many accounts were relayed to Eric by Tony’s wife, and he kept in touch with the hospitals; firstly in his birth town and then in Manchester. It seemed so up and down and not at all promising, a repeat artificial revascularisation was proposed but events were to take over. On many occasions Eric might have travelled North and visited the hospital but didn’t until a weekend in September that year. Tony had been in intensive care and the calls that week were not giving a favourable picture. Travelling up early Saturday morning, the full horror was worse than could have been expected, the legs were showing similar signs to what he had observed 25 years earlier with his Father. He was in Sepsis with renal failure and a machine was doing the vitals for him. It was difficult to see any signs that he was at all compus mentis and the picture appeared very bleak. The bleach was not doing its work on the infection and multiorgan failure was ready to be written on the certificate. At 9 O’clock that evening it was, death begins at 39 and took three years.
Life began at 39 for Eric in the following year; he paid a visit to Mother with his new love, they lived at the other end of the country to her (and the other remaining full sibling; trapped in the home town). With prior warning came a sober meeting, which resulted in many ‘as long as you’re happy’’s and other un-substantive cliches. He knew they were only words, an idea that was supported by history and by the many second hand recounts of the gathering. That it was a deranged mind(s), the booze(rs) or enebriated deranged mind(s) is anyones guess, but the accounts bore little resemblence to reality. Reality is a forlorn hope when sodden minds receive stimuli beyond their comprehension.
Father died in 1974 (59), Tony in 1999 (42), Mother in 2001 (66). Anne (44) is drinking, smoking, thin and without hope by all accounts, Eric is 46. How can such a ruinous path be followed generation after generation with such ignorance. How can it result in such incongruent lives, where the lucky escape and the rest fall by the wayside?
Eric 2nd January 2007
posted by Camp David at 1:02 AM
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