Remember how I once asserted that Canadians aren’t funny? (You aren’t. I’m sorry. We all know it’s true. Some of you even chimed in to agree. Have you ever seen Ryan Reynolds do stand-up? I haven’t either, but word on the street is that it’s atrocious.)
Meanwhile, in my experience, ALL Brits are funny. I don’t know how you do it. It’s almost suspicious. HOW CAN AN ENTIRE NATION BE WITTY??? WHAT ARE YOU UP TO AND WHERE CAN I GET SOME???????
With that in mind, I’m starting to develop a theory that it’s because you’re also crazy. (And I already have multiple sources of that in my life, so no need to share yours.)
Granted, some of you are probably crazy in a ‘fun’ way, like drinking too much and deciding to swim the Channel in a ballgown and Scream mask, or maybe more in the vein of that eccentric and erratic behavior you seem so unilaterally prone to in your later years, but some of you are just straight up crazy.
You know who you are.
For those who aren’t now squirming a little, as a case in point, and Exhibit B (right after Exhibit A: Braco) as to why I can’t – despite the plethora, if not downright landslide, of material available here on Maui – go down the road of mocking New Age/”healer” insanity as fodder for the blog is a man named David Icke.
If you haven’t ever heard of him, he’s:
a) speaking from 10am to 10pm here on Maui in a couple days. It’s a budget $39 for the event, billed as “Remember Who You Are.” I’m pretty sure I know who I am or at least can recall most of the time when/if prompted, but I thought maybe I could slog through 12 hours in exchange for (hopefully) days of hilarious post material until I learned…
b) this guy apparently believes we are lizards. As in actually lizards. At least some of us. Let me back up and serve it to you slow: David Icke proclaims that a reptilian race from outer space have genetically manipulated humans (and not just any humans: all the Queens of England. Ever. Barack Obama. The George Bushes Junior and Senior. Probably Oprah, although I haven’t read that specifically.) and are dominating earth. Oh, and they live in the moon, which is actually hollow and their space lab.
Didn’t I see this in a movie called Men in Black?
For those of you that are thinking “Finally! The truth comes out!” but can’t make it to Maui by Saturday, you’ll be happy to hear he’s also booked Wembley Stadium in October.
Of course he has, because…
c) He’s British.
Now before I get too far into slam dunking my sneakily revealed and not quite the title “Brits Be Crazy” point, and in what may seem like a bit of an unnatural juxtaposition, let me tell you that I’ve got a new opportunity with respect to including links in the occasional post, and I could not for the life of me find a truly seamless way to do this. Thus, and in the simplest of terms, if you are a funny (duh), non-insane (or insane. I doubt they’ll judge if you’ve got the cash) Brit in need of a new dining set or bureau, go to The Furniture Market if you’re so inclined.
In other news, maybe it isn’t fair to conclude that y’all are ALL crazy just because David Icke is one of your homegrown products, but when have I ever been all that fair in my conclusions?
Seriously though: lizard people? Really?
This goes hand in hand with my cardinal New Age rule: the minute someone mentions Atlantis or Lemuria/Mu to me as if these were actual places, I stop listening. I will consider a wide array of wackiness like astral travel, past lives, ghosts, poltergeists, and ESP. However, and I don’t know why exactly, but I draw a hard line at ancient lost (fictional) continents.
Now I have two hard lines: ancient lost (fictional) continents and reptilian alien world leaders.
Thus, I will not be anteing up $39 to listen to what are no doubt twelve excruciating hours of inane babble, but happily I don’t have to in order to mock the crap out of this. The internet and mauitime have graciously handed me a few choice wackadoo quotes, such as this one about his new book, REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE: “The key is in the title. To breach the perceptual walls of the Saturn-Moon Matrix and bring an end to mass human enslavement, we need to awaken to our true identity.”
Does this have to do with choosing the red pill or the blue pill?
Then there’s this: “In the Atlantean period there were many energies being used and information and knowledge being used which were, for particular reasons of safety, withdrawn, shall we say, to prevent complete catastrophe, to prevent total destruction of your planet,” which I honestly stopped reading when I got to the words “Atlantean period.” He had me at Atlantis. You know the cardinal rule. Let me know if you think I missed something useful…
And lastly – and I cannot bring myself to quote any further having read this gem in its entirety – “Hitler’s Europe Yes, welcome to Hitler’s Europe… Come on, human race – for our children’s sake if not our own. This is wakey, wakey time.”
Out of context, this is obviously a weak quote. I’m not picking on him for that. Where I am flinching at is “wakey, wakey.” Obviously I am a woman of many pet peeves, one of them being adults talking baby talk to other adults. Nothing sends nauseated chills down my spine like a man talking to me like I’m an infant. And, sadly, they do it more than you would honestly believe. It must be something about my smallness. Although 5’6″, I am often described as “tiny,” “little” and most recently “child-sized.” The last was in reference to a child’s ukulele, and it may not be as off as I wish it were, as it turns out this child’s ukulele is an appropriate size for me.
But I digress… (as I do in almost every post)
My point is that I am still in semi-desperate need of regular blog fodder, but as I keep insisting – despite my apparent actions – mocking gurus and New Age zealots and freaks on the street isn’t it. First off, I don’t have twelve hours to spare in order to learn about how lizards are ruling the world, and that kind of stuff gives me nightmares anyway. Secondarily, I really do hate to be mean. I do. Even in the spirit of humor, I always feel like kind of a jerk and I pray that they never find the post and get their feelings hurt.
I don’t do much praying – that part is a lie – but I will confess it’s a lot of work to sort out whether or not I can tell someone about the blog because I may or may not have mocked them in it. This is a lot of pressure on my short term memory and runs me the risk of getting beaten up in a bar. And did I mention I’m child-sized???
It’s better if I just find something where I can fly under the radar. The last thing I need is some kind of reptilian heat on my ass. I’ve got enough trouble with the Grays to last me all month…