Totenbuch Christ proposes that he should to move to Scotland in order to find himself. The goal of this 2000 word essay is to prove that this is a foolish, evil thought, most likely planted there by some very cruel person who wishes to see this man, possibly the most thoughtful and creative writer and thinker that Missisauga has ever produced, become extra scum in a crowded industrial city.
"Extra scum in a crowded industrial city?" you ask. "Isn't that taking natural progression a bit far?"
"No," I reply. We shall witness the hell that is Scotland.
Let us begin by defining the persona of Totenbuch Christ, and in simple terms for this is only a 2000 word essay. Totenbuch is a man who can be pleased by absurdity, war and boots. Absurdity is appealing to his sense of humour. War is appealing to his desire for world change and his admiration of tactics. Boots just look k00l.
Totenbuch mocks those who whine and haven't a clue what they are whining about. The middle class crabbers and citizens (1) who complain about everything without purpose. Totenbuch can admire both those who think (Nietzsche and other philosophers of sorts) and those who act (Rommel, Cates). Totenbuch is wise enough to loathe and mock Quebec separatists, who wish separation out of boredom and without cause. These factors spell out a man unsuited for Scotland.
Scotland. A simple name, a simple place. Shakespeare immortalized it as a place of evil and darkness. Caledonia the Romans called it as they gleefully bashed about the helpless Celts who inhabited the land. Scotland's glorious history contains abundant defeat. The extent of their glorious warlike ways: The attacking of their ally England, with the help of England's enemy France in 1295. These futile wars were all fought on Northern ground, causing little pain to England and great pain to Scotland, which lost again and again, despite massive aide from France (which had almost twice the population of England at that time). (2)
Scotland finally gave up. A burst of logic? Perhaps. More likely a realization of futility. Enough people had died that the Scottish could happily bitch about the evil, evil English, who wanted not-so-well-off Scotland to stay part of their country. Most Canadians will note the similarities between Scotland and Quebec. A futile struggle with little purpose, other than to vent unwarranted resentment.
Modern Scotland is an appendage of modern England. More of an enclave than a nation, native languages, religion, customs and culture have dissappeared. Scotland's culture now consists of a black line on the front of some cheap tabloids which have not yet caught onto the idea that Oprah's Lesbian Love Affairs sells better than the Loch Ness monster.
I've been too harsh: Scotland has a fine and rich culture. This culture is based on living on a per capita GNP of under $8000, one of the lowest in Europe. Poverty is not unusual. (3) Scottish people spend their time making plans on how to overthrow 'those English tyrants' (a goal which will not be likely to suceed until they realize that the rest of the UK had forgotten about them). Scottish people can also spend their time watching any one of 4 television channels, offering a wide variety of the same programming. Visiting the local library is a wonderful passtime for those 77% who are literate, visiting a local library and searching in card catalogues for outdated books.
And the music! I apologize for forgetting the music. Who can overlook the wonderful sound of dying animals so realistically reproduced here there and evverywhere by bagpipes, a symbol of Scottish pride that a chosen few are capable of tolerating. Bagpipes were invented before Christ in Israel. From Israel they spread across most of Europe, Western Asia and Northern Africa. These countries quickly passed laws which called for the immediate shooting of any individual preparing to play a bagpipe. Scotland did not. But that's not to say that Scotland is without music. Far from it!
With such bustling metropolis's as Glasgow (1988 pop. 751,000.. slightly less than Winnipeg, Manitoba), Scotland has ample supplies of the latest from Ministry, Skinny Puppy, and all the hits. Of course, Glasgow is the largest town (Scotland has no cities over 1 million population) and after that your choices are Edinborough (400,000 .. about the same as Sudbury) and Aberdeen (192,000 .. about the same size as Oshawa). Scotland may even have a few buildings over 10 stories high for tourists to come and marvel at. Scotland's total population is just under that of Metro Toronto. (3,4)
Of course, I haven't even mentioned the trees. The most common species of trees indigenous to Scotland are fir, pine and larch. The worst trees around. (2)
Quick fact: Scotland has only one large indigenous mammal left - the red deer. Point of quick fact: Red deer aren't interesting. Animal life would bore Totenbuch.
In fact, all would serve to bore Totenbuch. Scotland is bumps of green. There is an occaisional sheep or an occaisional town. Scotland IS industry. 83% of the workforce are employed as factory workers. Another 4% tends to running the workforce. Another 6% engages in farming. Another 6% work in jobs in commerce, or as waiters, or plummers, etc. The remaining 1% is classified as Other. I would have to assume this is where Scotland many creative masters fall. (3,4)
Scotland has produced some stars. We have: Sean Connery... and.. Well, Sean Connery is the one who comes to mind at the moment. But Sean has that funny way of talking, it just grates on my nerves, until I stand up and turn around and ye... oh sorry.
Speaking of funny voices: Let's. Comprehensiveness declines as soon as one enters the UK. Southern London, you've got a shot. You may be able to speak without people mentioning your peasant twang or your American drawl. Sure. Northern London, we're losing it a bit. They know you're an outsider, and they mock you. You bend ever-so-slightly to catch wind of what evryone is saying, and you pick up about 90% of conversation.
As we move into northern England, problems develop, in places such as rural Liverpool, where English is MAN's English.. none of these soft Norman vowels. The letter H dissappears, so don't even bother learning how to say H in MAN's English. "Ike a swalla a ibah?" someone might say to you on the street. You'd nod. He would then put a knife in your throat, at your admission to raping his sister. Comprehension in Liverpool would involve great effort. The amount which gets through to you: 70%, tops.
Now we move on to Scotland. A typical Scottish conversation sounds a little like this:
"Ize al en i e." "Ay o ot ite, ite." "O fe ow udty ace oi sez." Followed by laughter. Raucous laughter. Good laughter. Clean laughter. Only you can't join in. You thought they were practising for a vowels test. You are hopelessly lost. Comprehension is now at 50%, and I'm being merciful with that figure assuming we're talking about life in a major city or suburb. Visiting any rural or nothern area: Bring a fucking interpreter.
Granted: recent studies show that the odds of Neo- Ostrogothic Urbanites from Missisauga, Ontario finding themselves increases by 3.6% when they are allowed to look at grassy hills and white dots all the time. Granted self- reflection is easier when there is no TV, no BBSing and few friends if any. Relatives are always a fun and supportive bunch! And that Scottish cuisine... Totenbuch will be delighted by his healthy servings of haggis.
But Scotland is not all fun and games. Come job time, Totenbuch finds himself inside a factory or on a farm. Turning cranks and filling out forms or cleaning cow dung - his majestic future is his to decide. The government is ever-so-highly unlikely to fund this poor immigrant's daring visions. Scotland's society is regressive, not progressive, and this is an important point. New ideas will not be as welcomed as old. They want back to their roots, when they were Celtic, moron savages. Totenbuch Christ can certainly not thrive in these surroundings; it is a question of how he will survive in these surroundings.
Scotland could certainly be a natural playground, unfortunately, as I have stated earlier, Scotland is almost entirely industry, or the change of natural materials into products, smoke, and gook. So the lakes are dead and acid rain is becoming popular.
One idea for a closing sentence was "Scotland was a good idea that didn't work out right", but I realized the first part wasn't true. Scotland has NOTHING going for it, save the delight of Totenbuch's possible adult supervision by relatives. Relatives who will surely delight in his company for a week or two, perhaps a month or two. But longer? Not likely.
Writing can continue, and Totenbuch can draw whatever inspiration possible from the hills and the grass. Perhaps a literary critique from a relative or co-worker at the plant. BBSing is, without a doubt, gone, which is a shame because BBSing is a nifty part of life. Does Totenbuch lose his old contacts in Canada? Not at all. A letter or two comes every year, sometimes even pictures.
Scotland, quite sadly, is disgusting. It is a boring land without opportunity. It is a place to die, not a place to be born. Totenbuch Christ + Scotland = Misery.
By Milky Puppy on 11/01/91. Approximately 1950 words.
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