notes from
the MUCK . . .

How does your garden grow? With muck, muck and more muck! I spent much of today finishing the final muck box and then shifting muck from one box to the next. The first box, which the Big Lad is enthusiastically pointing out, has been rotting down for two years now and once we’d removed the top quarter of unrotted material, we found we’d hit the pay dirt.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Round 1.

Godzilla or King Kong, Donald or Mickey, Mario or Donkey Kong, Oasis or Blur, 42 midgets making up the Cambodian Midget Fighting League (CMFL) or an African lion...we've all sat still and pondered who would win such confrontations, and, aside from the odd B movie, such clashes have been confined to our imaginations...and a good time was had by all.

Recently however, we thought we had the answer to the last match up, as an article surfaced reporting that the bout had taken place, with the lion coming out well on top. According to the report, the CMFL's president the vertically challenged troupe could defeat any "man, beast, or machine"in a bout of fisticuffs. Someone took him up on the challenge, a lion was shipped in, and the fight was on. 12 minutes in, 28 of the league were declared dead, the others were suffering from horrific injuries, man defeated by its own arrogance once more, yadda yadda yadda.

But of course, the story's a fake, how could it be real? Sadly however, I heard this issue discussed on Ricky Gervais' pod cast before I found out it was false, and I started to ask myself if the President of the league was actually a midget or not, and if so did he fight? If not, who the fuck was he to put lives on the line by saying that they would beat any man; ok fine, there's 42 of them, BEAST; HOLD ON...this is a very very vague term...a shark is a beast, a tiger is a beast, an elephant is a beast..., and MACHINE; fuck right off, a MACHINE??? No, no and no. The death star is a machine, a hummer is a machine, a chainsaw is a machine...don't put you're people's lives on the line by offering them to a machine. They didn't of course, because they don't exist.

I also thought about what had compelled the 42 individuals of the CMFL to choose such a path? I tried to comfort myself by holding on to the possibility that they were all really aggressive, muscley midgets with no-one to fight because of prejudice in the regular fighting leagues. They responded with a grass roots movement to find the toughest damn midgets in the whole of the country, travelling up and down, getting into scrapes and scraps that would test and define their fighting ability, before finally settling down on a final 42 who would just have a fight every now and then. However, the annoying part of me whose job it is to keep a tentative (i didn't think for a second the story was false till I researched it more) hold on reality somberly but tenderly told me that the only reason they were in that group was because it was their only chance to earn any kind of living or acceptance in their society. Although I was glad the lion didn't die, I hate bullfighting, and think the matador get's what he/she asks for when the bull sticks 'em, this was different; the choice of the midgets seemed a lot less than those who enter the bull ring. You could say that I was somewhat torn.

What feelings went through my mind when I found out it was a fake story? Anger, that such a bizaare encounter hadn't taken place; relief, that those 28 people hadn't been killed, though they didn't actually exist, so whether they were killed or made up, their presence on the earth right now is pretty much the same. I guess if they had died then their families would've been pretty cut up about it, but come on, they were part of a fighting league and they had some dude trying to pit them up against dinobots, silverback orangutangs, tie fighters, and the odd tag team match with sharks. This wasn't going to have a happy ending.

Right now though, I just feel pretty empty inside. This had some good blogging legs, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna give up on it now just because it never happened. Wait, there's someone at the door, hello? who are you?? GOD?? My, you do exist, what can I do for you? Oh, you're here to damn me?? What for?? Wasting up blog space spouting on about how you felt about people and events that were a created by someone's imagination?? Come on...people spend a LOT of time talking about movies... what's that, you won't damn me if I don't hit publish??? No dice G; I haven't been able to post for 4 damn days, do your worst, you know where comments is...