Living the life of a turnip!

One of the most useful things I ever learnt at university was the value of having a period of time set aside so I became 'brain dead'.  During this particular time, normally coinciding with the early evening's soap operas between 5.30pm and 8pm, I would stare at the television and submerge myself in a world of complete banality, so inane and splendidly abandoning any thought of real consequence.  Such a scene could be best described as a turnip limply lounging about in true couch potato style.

But such salad days are long gone, yet the urge to take the time out remains, if only to escape the dreariness of coping with an increasingly hostile world.  Hostile in the sense that no matter the personal or professional accomplishments, the latter by far more revered or scorned by others than the former, these will never be enough and like any pugilist only as good as the last win in the boxing ring. Yet the search continues that fulfills the desire to avoid life as we know it!

Which brings me to a continuing fascination with that ever growing social networking monster, Facebook.  To be sure Facebook has its critics, but millions of users can't be wrong and apart from its obvious strength of being able to reconnect people, it's a place full of things that enable you to become a very happy turnip again.  Now I realise there are many who have no desire to be, or become, a turnip; but the fact remains if being a turnip is not your thing, you can become a hunky swede, a saucy tomato or a pickled cabbage.  And don't let anyone tell you any different, it's fun!

At a purely academic, therefore at the onset of becoming cerebrally challenged, level Facebook represents some form of anarchist utopia, underpinned by wonderful delusions of gloriously psychotic granduer, which is firmly anchored in a model of Marxist revolution.  Join and you never become homeless, never made redundant, have a never ending supply of money, everyone is equal, and if so inclined you can wander around the place in various states of outrageous undress.  You can become transgendered, mincing it up so much that any hetrosexual neanderthal man would be proud to call you 'mate'.

But it's becoming a turnip again that is fascinating, because no matter how hard you try to take it seriously, Facebook jumps up and bites yer bum when you least expect it.  Lonely?  Visit 'YoVille', meet in the courtyard and chat aimlessly with a rather funky human cartoon, until they bore the crap out of you.  Not an ounce of conscience is felt when he dumps she and she dumps him.  Wave the magic wand and zap the living daylights out of someone who is being immensely boorish, sexist, racist and every obnoxious form of human delight.  Still not happy, then follow the arrows and end up at the beach and make whoopee by throwing water balloons at others.  Still bored, go big game fishing and look out for several out of work shark actors on the prowl for a free lunch.  That doesn't do it for you?  There's always the fun of motobike racing, gambling at the casino, adopting a pet, buying a bigger pad so you've got more space to rest your weary turnip head. 

It rocks being a turnip!