Where’s The Real Imposter?!

I have looked around and noticed, and you may have as well, and that this economy is very strange.

Not that I’m referring to any sarcastic or satirical points of view about how there is no trickle-down effect and something-something ‘EU’.

I’m rather referring to the weird reasons why weird money is made by some people, and the weird requirements of the public. The weird public. Because obviously; we’re all weird here.

Look to your left, you will see (hopefully) other people. All of them are strange, and you can probably tell by the way that they’re also looking to their left and making facial expressions of ‘yes, they are strange Sam’ prior to getting that feeling that someone is watching you- probably from the right. Anyone looking to their left; forget about them. Anyone looking to their right; never mind them too. Avoid eye contact and stop breathing so much. Yes. We’re being obscure.

There is a craving from these ‘all-of-a-sudden’ people and their offspring. Now I’ve worked in a wide variety of places, and I’ve been around the world, and I’m getting to the fucking precipice of ‘staying-here’ and wondering why so many fake things are made. Children can’t want that many fake things, you’re going to destroy their imagination if you keep feeding them things to play with that are too similar to the real world. Children don’t need too much of that real world- just have them encounter a scary dog when they’re 6 and they’re raised. They are officially parented.

After that- it’s up to them to have a good time (weather permitting) upon their own steam and simply pass on the family gene (mainly your big fuck-off nose) or avoid as such entirely so as to de-populate the world. (I suggest- when we start to re-populate the ocean-space…at least one of us needs to stop breeding. Hopefully you, with your big fuck-off nose)

I was half-way through this article when I decided to take a walk out deep into the country to gain a little perspective and to enhance my buttocks.

Along the way, whilst still in the city, I looked down and noticed the exact point I was making here to be, in fact, everywhere.

It was small and purple, lumpy looking and dirty.

I bent down to pick it and held it up to the sun’s light.

It was a fake bunch of grapes.

How very appropriate.

I had to leave quickly as I realised I wasn’t country-deep enough yet. You can tell when you’re deep in the country around where I live because, and this is a little strange, it feels good to hear explosions. You start to crave a bombing because it adds a little character to the scene. Lovely butterflies, transcendent sunshine, no cars and still no cars, and just some slight and distance bangs. It really makes you feel happy not to be in a town, because you know you’re definitely not being bombed.

There have been other times when this has happened to me- when fake things have turned up and I don’t quite understand what’s going on.

I’ve worked in schools for 4-11 year olds. It was here that I encountered my first fake croissant.

What child needs that?! Was it even for a child?! I don’t know- I just threw as hard as I could- no one complained.

Now I’ve thrown real croissants as well, and I’ve enjoyed it, but this was different.

I’d like to suggest, since I’m going to write something down anyway and it might as well appear to be helpful, that whoever is doing the production of fake things: stop. For the sake of imagination. I can assume a croissant. I’ve encountered them and I have thrown them. I need no fakery. Nor do the children. Let them assume.

However, what about the industry- the economy? How many jobs rely on the seemingly major production of small imitation things? I bet they’re all Chinese- why not eh? Being Chinese is extremely ‘in’ at the moment- everybody’s doing it.

Maybe that’s the secret to successful communism. Maybe it’s just a false pineapple. Maybe I should get some sleep.

Should the false-idol business fall through the real floor, would China fall to its real economic knees (China has economic knees. Explains the popularity) following an influx of cheaply made, poorly designed, barely resembling a lemon, fake lemons from Pakistan?

Who wants that? Me, but for the love of the species, please keep the Chinese happy- they still make pretty decent and real shelving units.

On a Tuesday (it doesn’t matter which one) I bore witness to a small roast chicken. It completely consumed me. I bore and bore and bore witness till I eventually got to the point of thinking that this was not a real fake roast chicken. Because they’re made in China. And this one was sweating, or something.

I actually said, albeit to myself- “you’re not the real imposter! Where’s the real imposter!?”.

And then I told you about it.

Good night.

Sam.

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