Newsmedianews | The Weary Web Traveller by Rudi Trudenstein

The Weary Web Traveller
RUDI Trudenstein
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Sunday, March 16, 2014

The Mindreaders
see appendix

Its funny how one person can be so many all at the same time.

They still don't know that I know that they still don't know that I know that they are still watching me. Its a tough thing to live with believe me, because they are still everywhere.

You can't escape them, no matter how hard you try. They appear when you are sitting at the supper table with your midnight bowl of cornflakes and cream, just as they appear when you fall asleep tending the cucumbers in the hothouse in mid-afternoon. They nag you to get a better job, one you don't keep falling asleep at. To use milk instead of cream.

If you pay them too much mind you eventually become one of them, only a troubled variety, one constantly hearing echoes of something vaguely familiar but which isn't there any more. When you reach this point in life's continuum — that's when you become aware of them.

I am certain you will remember that day of awakening when you first realised that they existed. It was a struggle then, wasn't it, trying to disassociate from the concept of them and us. Schoolteachers and tramps warn of the dangers, muttering nervously in dark corridors. And so we go on trying to righteously protect ourselves from ourselves never realising the harm we might cause.

Comedians know all about them. That's why they make us laugh. Not because they are funny, but because they know about them and we think that's funny. But hang on here, to the comedian, aren't we just still more of them?

I don't know. Can you remember the day a blackboard eraser bounced off your head as you tried in vain to hide behind the raised lid of your school desk? It was all quite acceptable then. Good God above, if someone threw a missile aimed at my head I'd feel entitled to go and tear their head off. And today the teachers moan about unruly student behaviour. Maybe, just maybe they brought some of that upon themselves, en masse like.

But is it they, or them, or us? Are we really that fragmented?

OF LIPSTICK, BEARDS & BULL

Women paint their faces and their lips. Why? To enhance their sexual allure essentially for their own ultimate gratification. Or more pertinently, to strengthen their belief that they are enhancing their sexual allure. Given that, it is indeed strange that by far the majority of women reject by far the majority of men that they allure. The web of deceit is woven to trap the unwary.

Women have become unfortunate victims of commercialism to the point where in the main they no longer have any idea of exactly who or what they really are. This is a stance of conflict brought about by immersion in a pre-existing environment. It also wastes many years of a woman's life to confusion.

Where do beards fit in with this? A little like the widely adopted view that human sweat is 'unsociable' whereas synthesised chemical smells are OK. If you don't keep a sharp lookout you will get sucked into the wrong place in life altogether until eventually, often too late, you realise you have missed the real lollipop of life. Walk the planet forever looking to ease your deep craving for personal happiness believing that maybe it lies beneath the roots of a tree bole in Borneo. Hardly, but perhaps.

And bull? I'll leave you here to figure that one out for yourself.

Rudi.

Appendix
If you have read this before and expected something different, please accept my apology. I did ponder for a time over either changing, updating or altogether renewing the page. In the end I asked my doppelgänger to help and it came up with the idea of adding a title. After thinking about that for a while, I decided it was probably a good idea, so that was that. Back to top