Cheerio, And Thanks For The Apocalypse

Par : Ian Hutson
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  • FormatePub
  • ISBN978-0-463-47508-9
  • EAN9780463475089
  • Date de parution03/11/2018
  • Protection num.pas de protection
  • Infos supplémentairesepub
  • ÉditeurBluewater

Résumé

It's not easy being a vegetarian ray of positivity and social sunshine after the apocalypse. For one thing, meat's easier to come by than broccoli. Seven awfully English tales of life just that one step too far into your future. I went there so that you wouldn't have to. Once upon a time you could rely on death and taxes, but now it's only taxes. Old age is rotten, life never ends and croaking it, turning up your toes, putting on the wooden overcoat, assuming room temperature, shaking that last double-six and even, not to put too fine a point on it, pushing up the proverbial daisies isn't the restful release that you hoped it would be.
Your last best hope is England's two finest "popular television scientists" and their dog, each being granted three wishes by a troglodyte genie from Lancashire. You won't believe what the dog wished for. I believed it, but then, you see, I knew the dog in real life, so nothing surprises me anymore. This book is a celebration of old-fashioned language and unsubtle entertainment. It features strong male leads and no diversity whatsoever.
This book won't enlighten you and it certainly won't somehow "educate" you. If we're lucky, you and I, it might just distract you for a couple of hours. Imagine your brain as being made of soft rubber, being let off the leash in the park and running around on the grass with other brains, peeing up trees, chasing balls and then throwing itself down at your feet, panting - that's the best effect that either of us can hope for from Cheerio, and Thanks for the Apocalypse.
Seriously. This is a book for blokes. A very unserious book indeed. You've got to laugh, haven't you? Laugh and the whole world will give you the wide, wary berth you always dreamed of, wondering what you know that they don't. Cry and they'll be lining up to poke you with sticks. I recommend laughing
An old-fashioned Englishman living, unsurprisingly, in England. My home is my canal boat and I spend my life on the move at a rip-roaring three miles per hour or so. Have done for eleven years now. Everything I write is written in English - not in American, not in some "International" English, but in English English with all of our (original) spellings and peculiarities. To complicate matters and make things more difficult I often include spoonerisms and words of a non-existibode nature (for ref see William Archibald Spooner 1844-1930) where it suits me or meets a whim.
I love the English language, and I tend to use a lot of it. I talk to dogs, and I talk to trees - and I often forget to speak to any humans nearby. The Sun worries me, it's an unsupervised mass of nuclear fire just eight light-minutes away. Summer is my least-favourite season (this is not often a problem in England, where Summer lasts between zero and ten days on average). My politics - often misunderstood, either accidentally or wilfully by some - is that I don't believe in politics.
Each and every policy and decision in our lives ought, I think, to be considered afresh and in isolation. Religion? No thanks, although I probably talk to The Universe as much as I talk to dogs and trees. Do I believe in "Karma"? No, I've seen no evidence of it. Do I believe in a something akin to spirits and wotnot? Absolutely, I've seen and experienced loads of what people term paranormal events, happenings, manifestations.
Parallel realities? I don't know, that may explain a lot of things. In short, I have drawn no conclusions about my place as a human being in the world. Do I think that we can all get along with one another like snuggly bunny rabbits? Not a chance, as animals go we're a lot more primitive than we think we are. We are barely out of the trees. Favourite colour? Blue, probably. Music? The seventies, eighties, and nineties.
Do I like Marmite? Absolutely. Am I excited when I see a stick of broccoli or a head of dark green cabbage or a bag of carrots? Oh yes. A sad little individual? I suppose I probably am. Tinkettytonk, Honkytonks all, do keep on keeping on - if only because the very fact of your existence and mine seems to annoy so many people and institutions. Have fun. Don't forget to wash behind your ears.
Canal Holiday Full Suez
Ian Hutson
E-book
4,49 €
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Ian Hutson
E-book
4,49 €
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Ian Hutson
E-book
4,95 €