Category Archives: Scrapped book ideas

Kewl

It’s hard to satirise something that has at its heart so many crazy ideas. If I tell a real story about how for most of my life I have been scared shitless of cats as they are featured prominently in the folk of my childhood and in media. The bizarre nature of the situation had puzzled me for a while because even though I have worked very hard to pull from myself every superstition I was born with, some have attached themselves like tumours that removing them would be fatal.
One way I have tried to free myself from my repressed past has been making fun of these notions, to the effect of about 3 poems of which only one is published because it seemed clear that it was contradictory in nature. I am unsure if the post was taken seriously or not but it did surprise me that there are indeed times when it is hard to distinguish a truth from a conflation as those types of statements have been made in the past by ideologues. It was interesting for me to explore those especially crazy truths I had come across in the past. I would, if I could only talk about precolonial Africa to show how the cultures had developed concurrently with the rest of the world some aspects of democracy, voting and such. But the colonial influx resulted in my ancestors being painted savage while they were offered a God to fix their problems. It is actually something that I would like to write a whole article on anytime soon as essentially Christianity was the vehicle for colonialism in at least the realm of the Royal Niger Company. Along with that came literacy and civilisation which may or may not be as great as it seems, and it retconned my past as well.
When missionaries visited my home from America, whether or not they went toward any of the more rural places in Nigeria or not is not within my range of amazing memory. It changed as now I have seen and met and sort of experienced the way my house will probably look to someone from the ‘first world’ and such. The thickest of jungles in Africa were nowhere in sight, in the LGA of Surulere where I lived for those years, there’s many things that are incongruous with that safari view. I remember how eager to please we were, as members of the choir we offered Americanised versions of songs we’d learned. It was such that my younger self had switched into his pleasing mode, desperate and frantic and trying to get the applause of the white women missionaries. Little boy danced like there was something to be gained and dinner arrived too soon, a meal of white rice with boiled chicken and tomato stew (which I call stew). There they were my parents, convincing me that these people would help whoever it was they had come to help. The following Sunday I excitedly told my friends that we had missionaries over and they would be coming over. They had Jesus based magic tricks which are more awesome than they sound, these involved colouring an image with random colours provided by the audience and ‘colouring’ with a handkerchief. The method to this magic has not been researched by myself, neither has it peaked my curiosity again since that day. I have in recent years revisited this and other such events to try to protract a positive from the event as I now view these people with such disdain and malcontent that they might as well have had a terrible thing happen to them without my concern.
Interesting though is the fact that not all missionaries are bad and maybe some of them genuinely feel like they have not been total dick holes in their history however ancient. The advantages will be noted thus, maybe they helped a kid from the brink of self harm in this unforgiving world by teaching him whatever biblical doctrine it was they subscribed to as well as offering them some actual help by way of food, water and education. That is I believe the main argument to be had about whether or not they do any good in the world, but the cynic in me looks at it and sees
“I’ll give you food and water and education if you agree to subscribe to my belief system wholeheartedly including but not exclusive to:
Leaving your home and family if Christ requires it
Giving away a tenth of your allowance because God has a credit cash back deal he has set up
Maybe cut off the foreskin of your penis
Also abandon your culture and your people’s way of making sense of the world
Strive as well to convert others to the belief you are still getting into
Eventually, hand on every word of some intangible being that has vague means of discerning his presence and don’t forget to always bring your money to pay the man who gives a live adaptation of the fiction on which your entire life is based”
I have ended my argument for the necessity or lack thereof of missionaries in my experience.
Disclaimer: I don’t speak for anyone but me at this time, future me may disagree.
148 as of 9:00

Letter to me No. 3

25 Northington Avenue,
Hampstead Road,
Lincoln, England,
29 March 2017

Dear Me,
Hello there, It’s been a month since I wrote you last. It’s disappointing to think that
forgot your fora little while but then again here I am At this point in time you (I) think the soundtrack of beauty and the Beast 2017 is amazing to listen toe specially Evermore and Days in the Sun.

This is a problem you may not have anymore but is one that I struggle with but currently more and more I don’t feel anything after seeing movies. the last movie that I really hated was Suicide Squad but since then I’ve felt indifferent toward Dr. Strange, Fantastic Beasts, Rogue One, Beauty and the Beast and Power Rangers. They were probably entertaining to watch bet they made me feel hollow inside. One reason for this is something I call Retcon Jesus which is when a plot hole is replaced with some thing that is unfeeling and soulless and sucks the awe out of these movies. A move apt description would be that the movies had me face-palming like when someone makes a move even after their pawns cancelled each other out. These felt like necessary bridge movies to either set up a franchise, push it forward or just moved to recreate a better movie beat. Iron fist left me dead inside, marvel disappointed me by chucking a character I love into so much crap that you can barely make out his dragon emblem burned into his chest. (It annoyed the ever loving fuck out of me)

I regret that this ended up being a talk about movies I did not like.I loved Logan, Iron Man 3 (Netflix release), Arrival and Storks which you may still like or even own-I didn’t hate most of the movies in fact, they Just felt like vehicle cases (little Public law humour) rather than entities to themselves.

I guess you are an indie movie fan as a result of all the disappointment.

Yours sincerely,
John Broadgait
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Letter to me No. 2

25 Northington Avenue,
Hampstead Road, Lincoln, England
23rd February 2017
Dear Me,
Hello there! It’s been 2 weeks since I wrote you, I know that I’m disappointing to you looking back at how fat you were, It must be numbing to think about it with your amazing bat-abs. I hope you like your hair now, I started combing the hair now so that our hair will be amazing where you are now a also because 2016 hair pain was too real.
I know that my last letter was about love and this one is not similar to the last one in that try views on my past love has changed. I feel like my life has been mired with long stretches of unspoken words and silencing my dissent. I even looked at dissenting judges as villainous, I did something drastically crazy after valentine’s day. As you may remember or know If things change, our first girl friends birthday is on valentine’s which was problematic as I was brokenly broke but I had also promised her a present to mark her 19th Birthday. I was also very ill that week if you remember why we decided to never get sick again. I hope the text went well in terms of clarifying your position and leaving less things unspoken
I have left a lot of things unsaid and have had a lot of heartbreak in my peripheral vision and it has been trying. I’ve fallen in love with musician females and left if only to let them follow their dreams. It’s never really love though, it’s lust and nostalgia and sameness of person and similar conversing points.
I hope you’re happier in the Future.
Yours sincerely,
John Broadgait
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Letter to me – No. 1

25 Northing ton Avenue,

Hampstead Road

Lincoln, England

10th February 2017

Dear Future Me,
Hello there! If you’re reading thus, then we re still alive and probably less fact I don’t know how you feel about you I have acted in this times but l know how I feel about my past self.

I used to think I was dumb when I was younger and know that’s the easy way to look back at yourself. l look back to when I was when dad told me about how the number stood for perfection. I was in the 3rd grade and was dealing with my first prepubescent feelings in particular for this girl  Ada. She had this beautiful smile and had quite a butt for our collective ages, I thought she liked me as well. I never expressed these feelings, not even till today and we remained friends through the years.I feel bad that i never acted on my feelings when I was younger because it left me with regrets, so many regrets. I do however not know what the response would have been, I was a fat kid whose competition was a new light skinned student named Michael, He was better built than I was, probably was smarter, could kick a football better and was more around the females than I was. Crushes can help you be better.

I had met her again in my secondary school where she was a year a head of one as she had proceeded to secondary school before me. All the feelings rushed back as we became quick friends, she had Just transferred to the grade ahead of me in the same year that | had began. It was the kind of friendship based on familiarity in a sea of strangeness but it was not mutual. I had recently become pubescent and well, it got word. It wasn’t just in relation to her, I had to wear shorts to school as part of the uniform-stop every time l got a boner,I had to walk through the hall way to my class at the and of the hall while displaying the visible protrusion to the world.

I know this letter may seem demoralising, but If of made you laugh even a little then my work is done. I’ll send more your way as time passes.

Yours sincerely,
John Broadgait

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