Saw that film about about Graeme Obree's obstinate pursuit of world cycling records, Isabelle had to put it on Visa.
It was a portrayal not so much of a pursuit but more a flight from chiildhood bullies firmly ensconced in the psyche of the adult Obree.
The sort of neurosis that could have been easily cleared up by a few sessions of some form of therapy (£65 for an hour and a half) and in the process robbed him of all necessary drive.
Is it true that the happy and contented never do anything, apart from forming the audience that applaud the mental people who are fighting amongst themselves to get on the stage?
How many notable achievers and people who fail but at least tried, are only running from something or trying to impress imaginary women or a dead parent?
"You don't seem very happy about going to work today" said my brother on the phone.
"Well it makes you wonder about those people who can retire at fifty."
"Maybe if you'd had a career with the Police or something like that but it's YOU that wanted to be Self-Sufficient, so you'll just have to *ucking get on with it!"
2 comments:
"Is it true that the happy and contented never do anything, apart from forming the audience that applaud the mental people who are fighting amongst themselves to get on the stage?"
Yes. I only agreed to perform in a circus because I was off my rocker. You get a few headcases in the audience as well, though. I've hoisted a few of those buggers upside down by their ankles.
Some people are just observers of life, others do the stage stuff.
Some people earn money so they can retire at some later date and either finally live or die completely.
Just to be happy doing anything at all is my aim.
Shambling around to impress is a total waste.
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