Absurdities

December, 2009

Absurdities
by

Don Booker

The Writing Life & Other Absurdities

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

Contents
INTRODUCTION.......................................................................................................... 2 The Sex Files.............................................................................................................................. 03 The Dating Game........................................................................................................................05 Copenhagen 2009....................................................................................................................... 07 Into The Wild.............................................................................................................................. 09 2009 ........................................................................................................................................... 10 AFTERWARD...........................................................................................................................12

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

Introduction
Don Booker is a fictional character created in the Summer of 2009 by Irish writer, Noel Farrell. The character was created to show a side of Irish society under enormous pressure due to the political and economical mess in Ireland. These are month on month musings from that time which feature on the blog The Writing Life & Other Absurdities The blog character deals with social issues relevant to Ireland in real-time as seen through Don Booker's eyes. December 2009

Who's Don Booker?

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

The Sex Files December 13, 2009 Morning broke for me a little after midday. It was a welcome return to form. By one, I was sat like a chanting Buddha, surrounded by Leon's writings as I attempt to gauge what is usable and what is not. I came across a couple of black books. I had seen them before, but had never really delved into them. They seem to contain notes on every date Leon had throughout his life. They are all sweet in nature, with Leon choosing (mostly) to concentrate on his own short comings as a human being rather than blaming the blemishes of the fairer sex. Take this extract for example ~ Sober dates offer different sets of challenges. My first was with a girl who was named, Cloud. Throughout an evening of conversation i learned she was the product of an evening of free love early in the seventies. Her parents had done the right thing and had married, somehow enduring 35 years of marriage. One evening, like a shattered nerve, they admitted to Cloud that this would not have been the situation had Mum not fallen fowl of Dad. But they [parents] were proud they had managed it and equally proud of her. The hipness of it all was compounded by Cloud's sweeping plaited pigtails and flower attire. I stole a glance in a silent moment, as we watched a film. She munched on her lettuce roll. Sweetness personified. We sat on separate armchairs. This was new to me. I wanted her closer. " Come to me" I said. I expected her to rise, this girl that would occupy my time for years to come, this free-thinking, free-spirited wonderful produce of the last great generation. She looked at me for a second. "No, you come to me,'' she answered, as the last crumbs of the roll made their way down into her oesophagus. I looked at her with sadness. With those five words she had ruined another wise perfect evening. I rose to find my jacket before realizing i didn't have one. The last one I had was left at The Bronco. I walked from the room. I heard Cloud say something that resembled 'Where thou art going?' but to be truthful I was deafened by heartbreak. If a simple gesture of romantic kind was to be turned into a battle for control in this most childless fashion, I felt my time would be better spent drinking late into the night up at The Bronco where drunkenness would return me to an agreeing patsy in return for a couple of minutes of meaningless sex and a warm bed for the night. The challenge of a mature relationship is to much for me to bare without the crutch of whiskey. Perhaps I am doomed. I never knew of this girl called Cloud. I know Leon was a player. One after another, after another. There were brief relationships but mostly one-nighters. I know he was a practitioner of safe sex because i often had to lend him money at the end of a night for the rubber. He also did not have any children. And considering he had encounters than are measured in the hundreds, rather than dozen, it would be an extraordinary miss-count. Unless of course he was shooting blanks.

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

Wisdom and Words Image Olga Creative Commons License There was this one night I recall we were talking. I remember telling him that his need for a steady stream of encounters, ones that never led further than the following mornings leaving, was in fact down to some buried insecurity. "Bollox" he replied. "So tell me why then?" I asked. "God told men in the Bible, 'Go Forth And Multiply.' Who am I to question that?" he answered with a slight smirk. Leon always found ways that made rebuttal improbable. He was a deep thinker, though I do keep hearing a chorus of whispers from all the women he failed. Women who may drop the word 'deep.' Looking through these notes, there is probably a book in here in itself. Adventures Of A Player. Perhaps there is nothing wrong with being a player once you are careful in it's practice and honest about it.. Who's to say Leon wasn't right about his interruption from the Bible? It's not like God has a Q&A going on issues as we evolve? I do wonder sometimes how our individual perceptions of things define so much about who we are and become. Oh, and for anyone that's interested I am the ultimate practitioner of safe sex theory. I just don't have any...

Noel Farrell

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December, 2009

The Dating Game December 14, 2009 Leon was three weeks into another spell of sobriety. His brain burned with boredom unable to grasp life without the turmoil. Things had little meaning for him unless he could see them through the tail end of a bottle. ''That's where you find the answers,'' he would say. Trouble was, he could never remember them next day". Leon spent most of his sober days around at my place, living off my kindness. To be truthful it was good to have him about. It was during these times he showed his sanity and it flowed well enough to induce some laughter from me. You may have gathered, I don't laugh easily. There was this one time. When Leon was sober he was paralyzed with shyness. He felt he should join a dating site, and check out what was available on the dating market. Perhaps his soul mate lay in wait for him, somewhere in a posh apartment in Dalkey, complete with contemporary decor and croissant's for breakfast. It had to be worth a shot. So he spent the day filling in online questionnaires that were advantageous to himself, before departing with 120 of my money for a yearly subscription and access to mail features, winks, pokes and profiles with pictures. "She's in here, I can smell her," he would say excitedly. Now, I never minded Leon stopping by and even eating me out of house and home, but when he took over my computer that was another issue. I had my screenwriting to be getting on with. That was my way of absorbing life instead of having to live it. Day after day he sent mail out to potential candidates, the shyness melting away behind the warm glow of my computer screen. Leon, being of shallow disposition, sent mail to beautiful women who never mailed back. In the mean time he was getting attention from places he didn't want it from, including a 63 year old fitness guru from Achill Island. Even I couldn't make out if she was male of female. That's how it played out for weeks. Then he gave up and went back on the beer. "I can't function," were his parting words. Leon returned a week later to check his inbox and was mildly surprised to find a wink from a girl named Daval from Brazil, but who was living in Moate. Mail was exchanged and soon a dalliance was arranged in a restaurant in the town of Dundalk. It started well. They had a common interest. They both adored wine. Soup was shark fin, before they shared spare ribs in a barbecue sauce before ordering the main course. On arrival, the scene changed. Daval, who's dinner was slightly cool, complained to a waiter and left him in no doubt that she was enraged with the service. "Ease up," Leon pleaded with her. She gave him the evil eye, raising a fork and pointing it at him. She ranted for a few moments, totally ignorant to the jaw dropping clientele in the restaurant before finishing 'And if you're not man enough to accept my right to stand up for myself, I'll pay for this meal, and you can fuck off with yourself". Which he did, returning to my place and saying he was finished with dating agencies. His last endeavor into the world of dating was when, after doing a brief multimedia course forced on him by the social and having read Websites For Dummies, he embarked on a career in web design. When he could not get any clients, he hired himself and away he went setting up

Noel Farrell

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December, 2009

stupid websites like 'dial-an-excuse .com' - a site where people could log into and get a list of answers to problems they have within seconds for $5 an excuse. It never took off. Another endeavor was his own dating agency. The first three clients, Leon dated himself. Two fell in love with him, and one went insane before she returned to write an unexpected underground hit e-book, All Men Are Bastards. After that, Leon was utterly convinced insanity was the way to a brighter future and returned to the bottle, with plenty of success, in terms of the bottle. On a sheet of paper i found earlier today, a headline...

There were no words beneath in answer, which left me thinking that's how Leon saw himself. When he wasn't out there in the world, his tiny playground, he could never find an alternative way of living that filled the gap left by his sobriety. He did try, just not with any great conviction. On the back of the sheet I found what looked like a password. Intrigued, and on a whim, I entered it into the old dating site he once belonged to and was surprised that my little effort at being Thomas Magnum was successful. I felt the surge of a detective/hacker run through. I made my way to the Inbox, clicking gently, hunting for that last great sad love story. It was empty.

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

Copenhagen 2009 December 19 Two years of talk culminates in a two week negotiation. lLeaders of 188 countries descend on Copenhagen to deliver , eh, hmm ,..... is failure too big a word? When it comes to the climate change I figure there is little doubt in anyone's mind that the planet is heating up. What seems to cause some ill for fence sitters, is the cause of this heating up. Many believe it is caused by man. Many also believe it is natural process. The recent hacking debacle which showed climate scientists fixing temperature recordings kind of has me now sitting with those who believe that it is just a part of periods in the planets history where periods of Ice-Age were followed by periods of warming up. Stands to reason that if the Ice Sheets disappeared then the sun obviously had something to do with it. I watched a documentary about one year ago where scientists on the Northern polar cap were able to hack down into the ice and then throw a lighter into the hole. The result was a fire beneath, caused by the build up of methane gas below. The cause of the methane was rotten vegetation. Which again tells me that life thrived even in polar areas once upon a time. Some say we are in the last days of this present ice age. That in fact it has taken this long for the ice to retreat. That one, I don't quite buy. Does it really matter what the cause is? The planet is warming up, low lying places such as the beautiful Maldive Islands now stand threatened to be swallowed by rising oceans. Indeed many low lying areas are under threat. Weather patterns have certainly taken a turn for the worse. The leaders of the world met and planned a way forward instead of delivering on something that could have been historical, finally putting the plight of people ahead of the need for greed. It was not to be. A deal of sorts was reached, but considering it is not legally binding, it makes this summit about as significant as my efforts at writing.

Fire & Ice by jurvetson Creative Commons License

Noel Farrell

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December, 2009

It was a chance for the global elite to show us that they had the capabilities to govern. With that came the chance for many to come together and make themselves a friend of the planet. A chance to put the adoration of oil we seem to have to bed, and make the world focus on the need for alternatives to this war-causing black liquid that has the blood of hundred of thousands of people filtering out from every vent its caustic end product sends into the skies. It was a chance for us all to have a common goal where the pursuit of a better tomorrow could possibly unite all that is good and unique within us all. A chance to create new industries and avail of all the natural resources nature provides us with. Put the planet to work on reaching and solving the great challenges of our time, while working on the eradication of war and hunger and all the other things that stain our being. But alas it was to much to hope for behind all the lobster, caviar and fine wines. All the conference achieved were token gestures of goodwill toward the plight of the planet and an agreement to meet up again in Germany next year followed by another meet in Mexico City. Meanwhile the leaders head back as failures to their peoples and set about finding new ways to tax us all and restrict our movements.

Image - Tina Li Creative Commons License In Ireland's recent budget many price hikes were put in place as a front for a carbon tax. Ireland could stand at the fore front of any new industry that tries to use the natural elements as alternative energy. We have water and wind in abundance. The problem is the fools that run our country wouldn't know what to do with an opportunity - except to profit from it somehow and then waste it. Whatever your views on the climate debate, once again opportunity was passed over so the governments of the world can go about destroying us piece by piece. The great challenges of our time left for future generations to deal with because money is just to damn sweet right now. "A conference is a gathering of important people who singly can do nothing, but together can decide that nothing can be done" - Fred Allen Just about sums it up!

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

Into The Wild December 21, 2009 I watched the movie Into The Wild last night for about the sixth time. If you haven't seen it, I suggest you clear a few hours from your life and do. It tells the incredibly beautiful story of one man's quest for enlightenment by journeying into the unknown in search of a need to fill his life with solitude and the feeling that he could make it on his own beneath the wonder of an Alaskan sky. His story embodies that search many have thought about, but so few proceed with. The film itself is shot beautifully under the able direction of Sean Penn from a script he wrote. It is, in its purity, one of the finest studies of the human condition told in a journey through life, taking in and photographing the endearing beauty that the land mass of the United States can offer. What makes it even more outstanding is it is all based on true events. I challenge anyone to view it without wishing that existence, if but for a day.

Image by The Wandering Angel I remember one Summer's night about ten years ago. Leon and I were sat in deck chairs in his garden. He had talked me into buying two dozen bottles of beer. As i sat sipping on mine, Leon was quickly in flow and Leon began murdering the bottles. The night started to digest the day. Leon commented that there were places in this world where it felt like you could walk but a few miles and touch the stars, such was the openness of the land. No such joy here. A place quite ordinary. I've mentioned before how Leon sometimes became a wanderer himself. Choosing to sell what material things he had gathered and set off into the world, each time giving the indication that perhaps he would not return. He always did. He offered little in explanation upon returning, choosing to say his planning was not what it should have been. But, how can one plan when they rise in the morning and are sometimes gone by night. I often wondered what it was he ran from? The hero of the film was a man by the name of Christopher McCandless. Throughout his journey he kept a journal of all his experiences. His reasons for all that he did. His final entry - 'Life only real when shared' Perhaps there is a lesson there for us all. 9

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

2009 New Years Eve The hands of time move slowly toward midnight. In parts of the world the New Year has already begun. For many individuals it brings a new hope, a chance to start over, a chance to move forward. For others it will not matter. Those who struggle on a daily basis to see another day. Those who live in fear of various things, whether they be the actions of powerful people or a swing in their thinking which does not help the mind. Laboring days of struggle. 2009 was divided into two parts for me. The early part of the year provided me with a lot of energy. As with all New Years it provided me with a base. A place of opportunity, a brand new dawn to move into. A twist of fate in February provided me with a gift I felt would not happen for many more years, a welcome return of something lost. Jobs are hard come by. I wandered in limbo for a time. It was then I met up with an old friend for a day. As I drank copious amounts of coffee we chatted about many things. Life and involvement in it high on the agenda. My friend, whom I will be forever thankful, did more than listen to me that day. He was a figure of what the future can hold. He suggested ways to approach the living of each day. He brought back the fire that burns. Even if it's return was just a mere spark. It cemented my long held feeling that people came by once in a while when we needed them most. For some strange reason he asked if I kept a blog. I told him I had before, but like Leon, I could never be faithful to it. I had long wanted to write a book and he knew this, for he shared similar aspirations. He suggested I start a new one.

That very day I went home and made a decision to start a blog. More than anything the joys this world can offer, writing provides it for me. It has been over a number of years now, a companion which does not let me down, no matter how hard at times i have chose to be ignorant of it, for whatever reason. I made a pact with my lazy self, that no matter how I felt on any particular day, I would write something, and when i had gathered enough material i would turn the writing into some form of book sometime in 2010. I'm glad that for the most part i have honored that commitment. The blog has matured in many ways since September. I don't mean by content, but it took time to find a direction. I think it is getting close now to being what i want it to be. I feel I now am close to finalizing a direction for the narrative of the book. In small ways it excites me.

Noel Farrell

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Absurdities

December, 2009

In many ways it is a savior. A chance to voice strongly my opinion on things in Ireland. A chance to share stories from times past. A chance to laugh. A chance to be free. A chance to connect with great people whom I would never have met otherwise. People who don't hide behind masks so they can fit into what society wants them to be. People free in spirit and free in their thinking. People courageous enough to be all they can be and make no apologies for it. My kind of people. The people I need to surround myself with even if it is only sometimes through the power a fibre optic can provide us with. It's been a tough year for many here in Ireland. For others, in far off places its also been tough. But we have all made it here. To this point, at this time, at the death of this year. To friends lost. 'Twas not of my choosing. To friends new welcome.

Universe 9002 Image Robert W Creative Commons License To simple twists of fate. To 2 0 1 0 To all you hold in store.

Noel Farrell

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December, 2009

Afterward
This series is a comment on issues facing Ireland, by covering them in real-time against the backdrop of what is really happening in Ireland at that time.

The series covers events as they happen through the eyes of the fictional Don Booker, an unemployed recluse as he attempts to write himself through his personal woes and an Ireland in decline.

The novel, Booker's World is separate from this series of ebooks, though both worlds collide at certain juncture as the months go by. An ebook version of the novel will be available in Spring, 2012. All ebooks in this series may be used for reference and may be distributed freely once adhering to this Creative Commons License. Please credit the author.

Why Free?
Subject matter such as suicide, alcoholism, civil liberties, politics, religion, amongst others, are covered throughout the series. Please support Suicide Prevention Services and Depression and Addiction Services whenever possible. Continuing negative statistics in the areas of Suicide, Depression & Addiction at a time of national austerity means that every single donation counts in the fight against all three. Leon is a character from the novel, Booker's World. In this series... 5 Days in September Deathly Quotes November Nightmares

also by Noel Farrell

Sonny Strange
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Absurdities

December, 2009

Publicaton

JaSE

Noel Farrell

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