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Tuesday, April 03, 2007

It was a full-moon last night. They seem to occur almost monthly these days.

There's tension here in Toronto, nothing tangible that anyone else can feel but maybe I'm just more attuned now I've become a native Quebecquois? We Canadiens understand this. Vive nous libre, etc

Police in Britain have known for years that a full moon signals a spike in crime statistics (and indeed crime..*ahem*) as more and more people get more and more rowdy and things in town centres the length and breadth of the land kick off just that little bit easier. So we get more coppers put on the streets on such nights to keep the peace and stop people acting so much like the hairless scared monkeys they are. Because everyone calms down when they see a group of policemen waiting for them outside a nightclub, ready for a fight.

As I watch the hairs on the palms of my hands grow thicker and oilier, it occurs to me that this is where the Werewolf myth might originate - it's all about the Beast Within, isn't it? A hidden wild animal, completely unfettered by considered behaviour, that only comes out at rare moments and then wreaks absolute havoc. We all have the capacity for tearing a throat out yet we barely see it, blithely overlooking a dim glimpse of our destructive nature and failing to hear the whisper of fear (of self?) from within. Thank god we in our modern society have made room for the timeless, ancient rituals of going out at night and getting dangerously pissed, dancing badly to loud, shitty house and garage, then trying to mate with anything that temporarily can't walk.

It's not so unusual to suppose that the moon may affect our behaviour. Just think of the etymology of the word 'lunacy'. Just ask the nearest pre-menstrual woman. Though keep your throat covered. Just ask the nearest sea.

We're born this way, highly sensitive to our natural environment. Only when we encounter the rather more unnatural environment we've built around ourselves, of a 24/7 season-less year with every convenience on tap do we risk losing touch with it. The challenge is to get back to that stage of natural sensitivity without smashing a beer bottle into a random stunned stranger's stupid baboon face at 3am. Unless they've been staring at your girlfriend's tits, in which case fuck it. He was asking for it.

What are the benefits in embracing this beast and letting it out? Do the scary underclasses just fuck and fight, the middling-classes go snowboarding and work on aggressive new marketing campaigns whilst their ruling classes idly spend their days figuring out new ways to quietly manipulate the lifestyle choices of the fuckers, the fighters, the snowboarders and the soulless dicks? Is it really true happiness to realise your animal nature?

Recent research shows that each of us is born with a genetically coded happiness, a "set point" which we return to regardless of our circumstances in life. Whether you're in love, grieving, dying or you've just won the lottery, your level of happiness eventually settles down to the predetermined degree that applies only to you. This is great news if you're generally very happy but also there's no need for despair if you're a miserable old cunt. You're born that way.

Isn't life dandy?

!!! - Must be the Moon

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