Today is my birthday

Posted: February 25, 2010 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

People often ask: ‘where can I park my boat?’
And I say: ‘the question is: where can you tether your soul?’
For you see, you can never source treasure in a wedding cake, nor drill for oil in a baby’s head. The skeletons of history lay siege to the castle and we kill the lights. Blowing up the cemetery is futile when your grave will open up beneath your feet. A popular poll claims Custard Creams are the finest biscuit, but a wise man will tell you that true pleasure is not sandwiched between banality.

Be careful what you wish for, the old adage goes. Monkey’s paws aside, man does not know what he really desires. His mind is consistently clouded with false idols and promises, screaming and undressing for him. I liken this obsession to Homer Simpson’s big sandwich.

In an act of foolhardy machismo and gluttony, Homer takes the foot-long sandwich from the festival with ‘hardly a dent in it’. Over the coming weeks, Homer nurses the meal, which becomes far more than a sandwich to him: it is his prize; his project; his burden. He dotes on it as if it were a surrogate child, despite the mayonnaise starting to turn.

When Marge finds it behind the radiator, common sense dictates that Homer must surrender his obsession, but still he munches. Inevitably, his health declines, and Marge sensibly bins the cause of his malaise, only for Homer to secretly continue snacking. He cannot stop himself, even as the mould parasites attack his insides.

By the next day he has turned blue and has the shakes, and eventually this costs him his true passion: a trip to Duff gardens. Homer lost sight of his true desire by obsessing over something superficial, something which only hurt him. This could be a demoralising job or a caustic relationship. Obsession makes us near-sighted, and the true prize is obscured, until we forget it completely.

Beware of big sandwiches, my friends. Peace.

  1. Dave says:

    Loved it! Always facinated by how the female members of the Simpsons are portrayed as the idols. The innocent perfection of Maggie. The gifted, misunderstood Lisa. The downtrodden but ultimately beautiful Marge. Compare this to the two sides of man. The epitome of boyhood, Bart, and the warning of the man that you could become (or already are,) Homer. In your blog, and the episode in question, once again the saviour of man against his own stupidity is the love of a good woman. Maybe it’s just that all men have a need to “worship the Godess,” or maybe it’s just a mild oedipus complex… Anyway, good birthday blog.

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