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The words are all mine, most of the pictures are not. Some of the words are not mine either.

Wednesday 1 June 2011

998 equals the ultimate truth

The internet is a wonderful thing isn’t it.

Without it you wouldn’t be here now reading this old pile of tripe that i have written and therefore justifying another lonely night in for me with nobody to talk to.

But I think I have come across a problem with the World Wide Web.

You see....


It all started a couple of nights ago. It was just gone midnight and I couldn’t sleep. I was tossing and turning and getting myself into a right state. One minute I'm too hot so I throw the sheets off. Then I need a pee, so up I get and stagger to the loo like a geriatric pinball, crashing into doorframes and the like – but still no rest bite.

Then as I realised what was wrong. I had a burning question in my head. It was a quandary that must have seeded itself in my mind some years back and only recently had it grown to fruition and was no causing untold damage in my noggin.

It’s a question which I am hesitant to type here for fear of two things.

Firstly that you will know the answer and simply post on the comments like a fool hardy trigger happy info nut, or secondly that you too will start to wonder the same thing.


Of course the easy answer to any question in this modern digital age is to simply “Google it” but I don’t want to.

That’s the easy way out.

If I were to ask the question and your first instinct was to cut and paste it straight into that hungry mouth of a text box on a search engine, as soon as you press enter you will effectively be killing a part of what it means to be human.
This question is one that I am almost positive you will not know the answer to without looking it up first. If you do I doubt very much you would admit to knowing it so as not to cause acute embarrassment from everyone else around you when they start to ask the obvious retort of “how the hell do you know that?” to which, I am afraid there can be no sensible or proper reply.


The temptation to simply look up this inconsequential enquiry can become overwhelming at times and, as I write this my eyes have darted back and forth at the little Google symbol at the top of my monitor but....

NO. I cannot do it. I SHOULD NOT DO IT... I. WONT. DO. IT.

It has to remain a mystery.

Only by staying outside of knowledge can we truly ensure that imagination can be allowed to run free.


By NOT knowing the truth can we allow ourselves to formulate and redesign our own fantasies.

It is the application of ignorance that will show us the way to true enlightenment.
This my friends is how it should be.

I now no longer care that I couldn’t sleep properly the other night.

It matters not one jot!

I now know that by not knowing I can seek further truths for across the universe.
If you too desire this mental freedom that I have embraced then please carry on to the end of this blog but be warned...


Anyone who is fearful of the ultimate truths or indeed even more worryingly thinks of themselves as fearless – do not be so fool hardy into thinking that a quick look at the question is OK and that it will not affect you because I guarantee that it will....

It’s like a play on the radio broadcast at night during a full moon that creeps into your subconscious as you drift into slumber. A subtle and delicate alteration of your mind takes your dreams through a journey of self discovery via the medium of fear and paranoia.

I want to know the answer but am scared of what I will find and once I have my
answer – what do I do then?

Please – do not take this lightly. I enjoy nothing more than learning new things and seeking out information and expanding my own horizons but I do believe there are some things that should never be sought.


Something secrets are kept for a reason.

If, when I die, I am allowed to speak to God and ask him a single question then this question will be the one I ask.

I one thought that I would ask him “how are YOU feeling?” because I bet nobody thinks to ask that, they only ask selfish and irrelevant questions like “what is life all about?” or “are there any aliens?” and silly gibberish like that.
No, I always held the belief that I would ask God a question about him and how he was feeling – but not any longer.

This question is now my Excalibur!

It is a weapon. It will allow my imagination to run wild and free as caged dog would in a field of defenceless lambs and small idiot children.


Tearing each one of them limb from limb, their bloodied carcases forming a brand new sonnet or colourful simile of some kind.

This might power that resides inside of me now is a pulsing beacon of ideas throbbing down into my fingers and doing all the typing as I sit back and gaze at the computer screen in sheer awe of its majesty as the word counter tick tocks its way up to the self limited maximum of 998.

Sheer unadulterated bliss!

And relax.....





Finally i ask this of you, if you do want to read the question then do so but please do try your hardest NOT to look up the answer. If you do you are only cheating yourself which is a bit like punching yourself in the face. Which is stupid.

Thank you.

Here it is then. The biggest and hardest question NOT to answer......
























“What ever happened to the guy from the Remington fuzz-a-way adverts?”



I warned you....

5 comments:

  1. This post was like an anti-climax for me. I was really looking forward to getting to read the question, but disappointed by the fact I haven't seen the advert. :( :(

    ReplyDelete
  2. @sarah, you can always change remminton fuzz away to barry scott from the cilit bang ads if it helps.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oooh, now that's a decent question. He was a babe...

    ReplyDelete
  4. I will be forced to research this now and ruin your not knowing. . . . . . You only got away with not knowing because at the time I did not know of your blog. . . . . but times have changed . . . . . O YES INDEED. . . . . and as luck would have it . . . . I AM THAT MAN

    AH no I lie

    But I am writing and dealing with the Big Questions and this is a big one.

    ReplyDelete
  5. He has beaten you to God Mr H . . . .

    ReplyDelete

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