Laboring Bling Bling Uniforms: Are You Costumed?
Dulled, numbed and befuddled by ad bombs. I'm done with the cellphone; its morphing into a cellar and not the wine fermenting variety of barrels but closer home to the slammer we all call the jail. Funny thing that- it houses inmates! And doesn't incarceration just sound good? Its like you took the vows and went all monk- the whole way as in the Lateral Route. "Hey, how is J doing?" and you can go "Great. He's Incarcerated."
It beats the shit outta being incinerated. Laziness and its inmate Lethargy dropped by. Sort of like the blokes who drop in at yer pad and just don't leave. They stay man; they stay. They stay till you can't moo no moe. So whaddya do? Cough like an idiot and the subtlety is lost on them mates blanked and hypnotized by the fvckin goddam TV. Here's an idea- you watch too much TV and you should get ill, sick, diseased, as in getting bloody symptoms leading you to TB. That should curb the view spent on staring at the idiot box.
There's a reason why it’s called that. You become an idiot.
Capt. Jendrix dropped in on his good looking Bullet. It’s a beautiful stud- and I mean the bike. We did what mates who are out of the incarceration do- played ketch up. I do like the company. He's the only cap I know who never abused his military colors, and I mean those commanding uniforms. Time was I'd urge and conspire to have him wear his army stars to the pubs and the discos. But the man always had humility. He'd shrug it off leaving you feeling pretty retarded. So we'd hit the capital's hotspots. And whaddya know? There are other blokes in uniforms. Obviously the female species finds such attire positively stimulating and the buggers knew it. But something was kinda missing... What was it? Then it came- there is no fvckin war going on anywhere and you ask "What the fvck you doin' all geared up at two in the morning?"
I got Sangay Yeshey's pointer (yeah, he's also got that given-name. Weird, names are given and not taken, so what's the story with (Hi. My given name is Jurmi Chhowing but you can call me Dickhead? What's yours?). Hmm... breathe... come back... where was i...? Gotcha ye bastard! Uniforms!
So what my mate obviously meant when he shrugged the suggestion off was pretty obvious. "See those impresarios? They are my professional colleagues but boy! I ain't going to a costume party and even if I did, I wouldn't wear my colors 'cos really- it’s not a costume and why would I wear that to a bloody disco or the local bars? If chicks dig that shit, get your boys, fiancées or husbands tailored. Not me; I'm not wearing mine. Matter of fact these casuals have become my costume as I don't get to wear them much. So when I'm off the call of duty- I go costumed in stoned-jeans, cowboy boots and jacks to finish the look. So gimme a fvckin break will ya?
I got it. I always did. I'm not the Divine Madman but I adore the man and his Now-Do-Ya-Get-It Manifestations.
That was that. Last we met he was uniformed; officially that is- and I got the heebiejeebies! My mate in Greens Topped of by one darn handsome beret! Ladies, my profound apologies, if there be apologies-that-are-profound.
I get it. A man in uniform, backed up by a few insignias, crests and stars looks pretty cool. But while we be on the subject let's not get carried away. I've met a few ranking officers badly in need of either real good tailors or The Dawning Swami that's Dave, Ram Dave. Their uniforms were cluttered with jewelry and boy does the Paunch punch out. And where do all the Blink Blings come from? We haven't warred too much to warrant bravery medals? Perhaps it’s for donning the costume splendidly.
The glare from the trinkets is another downer. Funny thing is their capers didn't do the trick but the one my mate wore did. Maybe it’s just that he's my bro and it’s nice to see your bro looking good. It must be mentioned that he's got no paunch to tuck in or blare out, so that helps, and being a captain, he's got just the right amount of bling to complement the look.
Hell, he's a smart guy. Now couple that smartness with being a nice humble fella (don't mean he's a softie; cross him and may your specific god help you!) who's fit (He just dropped in and man is he aloof like His El Duderino. Had a khaki trouser on held at the waist by a piece of cloth-shred. Story being I lost my nice snakey-leathered-belt! And to further illustrate his non-presumptiousness and sheer gumption). These sidetracks! Where the fvck was it? Yeah- the way he non-chalantly goes about the uniformed business. He's got that lean body too- lean riding that mean machine I inserted somewhere up there. The pointer being that if you must, this is how you handle a uniform.
Personally I'm more of a non-uniformed chap with an unfair Anti-Establishment rep. Coulda been true two decades back when you rebel 'cos there's nothing to do, really, and even if you did, the prize was expulsion from your school and should ya finish college- unemployment. I've nothing against the Establishment or the Uniformed Corps. I've a bone with authorities or Figures of Authority when they dismiss you for no reasonable take, and most intimately, Social Injustice. The world's fine but folks are tripping out. It don't have to be drugs or alcohol. Everything is an addiction. If you be an important man the temptation swaying you is the Feel and the High that comes Abuzz from wielding Power. And as the infamous expression slams it, nothing corrupts power like absolute power.
That's an addiction folks pay for- dearly.
Then there's hosts and swarms of addictions that don't get ya Incarcerated or Ostracized (or the warmth that steams from the politically corrected version that advertises groping jails as 'Correctional Facilities'- simply ingenious!). Lust for flesh and lust for the cash affects and harms other folks if done at your pleasure and pleasing. Corruption is a Gentleman's panache. Pride and arrogance is finesse. Selfishness is perseverance and preservation of the lifestyle you've accrued. Greed is good. Ambition is getting ahead by hook, crook, bait, line and sinker.
Conduct and action therein and herein is justifiable means to an end acceptable and understood at large. Intolerance for the verities of life that don't spice up your own view of the way things should be is a pain in the butt and the heart if you're different and they don't like that difference. Apathy is a disease that besets a lot of folks residing in the public sector services. Its been made pretty obvious that some civil servants presume or knowingly assume they work for the government and if there's any connection betwixt the said government
and the accursed populace at large, its just a one-off freak. The people are the public and hence, the General Public at large becomes an Anonymous Face brushed aside. Reminds me, some of our Civil Servants seem to be of the view that Civility is a Privilege to be Exorcized at their Leisure and Servant is really a metaphor for 'Master of my Domain' .
Gutting it out in an honest way is plain stupid and a typical case of a mental empty basket. Morons engage in the arts. Losers drive battered old cars and nobody in a motor vehicle as big as the road understands why in the world are people walking when there are so many enticing cars on sale. There are the exceptions who work hard, trying hard to keep the faith in the defacing onslaught of so many that hardly work and get to places with perks. And the troubles driving the young is very simple in the eyes of the luxurious beholder- those fvckin' drug addicts! Living in an impoverished neighborhood or a colony is mysterious to this lot 'cos they fvckin' think colonies are for ants, termites; y'know, those creepy creatures Bear Gryllis keeps chewing. But hey! Chin up man! Why be sour or sore or both? This is the life and Ifses and Butses' not gonna change nothing. Its a proven lineage. When your luxuries arrive and you be the Top Dog, its all good and things are fine! And your rear entry and shortcuts and access to easy money is the very honey you'll lick all life long save the Tsunami that's yet to come.
The resulting scenario is one of a grateful and Common Karma profusely thanking the Government Dorji for doing what is essentially Dorji's job to do and Karma exercising his rights to demand certain answers as an affected or concerned citizen. Tragedy is king here as both are enacting roles they shouldn't. Is it any surprise then that Dorji gets a swollen head and a paunchy belly and Karma goes complaining about his karma? Yet when the minted-twins do meet again, it’s all Déjà Vu!
A priceless, thankless and cyclic coin where the heads go wagging and tails do the nodding.
Yet I love life; including the uniformed buddies, those damned arseholes up above and others omitted on account of a shattered and fragmented memory; and the bloody earth! She'll fix all and co without the slightest warning, hesitation or discrimination. Then there's more good news. When Karma from the Dharma strikes, its instant reprisal and should ya mess with that, you be fvcked, but then again, such is the Dance of Life.
Till the next musing, Adios!