Friday, 3 September 2010



Fuck, there's just no end of things against which we must be vigilant. Now it's compost. Can give you Legionnaire's Disease, whatever that is. I think they make these things up. Somebody dies from something they don't understand and they call it a new disease.  Remember Munchausen's Disease by Proxy, that was a good one, irresistible urge to kill people, as I recall. Now it's Compost Fever, Heard it on BBC Radio Four's You And Yours Anxieties Programme, so it must be true.  Some geezer inhaled the moisture from his compost and now he's marching around the hospital, saying Oui, Mon Capitaine, I vill die for ze Legion, Zut alors!


I make it on an industrial scale, layer upon layer of clippings, cuttings, peelings, shredded paper, cardboard, teabags, coffee grounds, seaweed, rhubarb, sawdust, vaccuum cleaner contents, beanstalks, potato haulms,  comfrey, autumn leaves, anything organic apart from flesh, just guess the proportionality of it and normally it's great.  Without my fleet of lawnmowers and my arsenal of strimmers, clippers, shears, loppers, scythes, secateurs and machetes it'd be like a fucking jungle out there,  the way stuff grows, full of nasty little  Japanese bastards with big swords, probably, or Labour ministers, looking for badgers, as they call lorry drivers;  that compost is good shit, in my opinion. Now, they tell me, it's lethal, unless I do as Professor of Compost Studies, John Gob, tells me, thermometers and all that stuff, gloves. And masks, Risk-averse, that's what we must be. Oh, Brave New World, first the Swingers' Coalition of We're All In This Shit Together, Even Though We're Not and now, Compost Monsters From Mars Will Drink Your Blood. Why don't they all just fucking shut up, just for a day or two'd be good. Everybody's so fucking clever, know-it-all, turn on the radio and there they are.  Sperm to worm, womb to tomb, that's the way of it. Apart from on Radio Four, where,. if you pay attention,  you can live forever.


mongoose said...

Arseholes and idiots, Mr I. The whole point of compost bins is to encourage bacteria to break all that crap down. You don't want the little buggers inside you though.

Got shouted at by my lad the other day for not wearing a dust-mask while sawing a stick of timber. It's like having the Gestapo in the house.

PT Barnum said...

Expletive deleted, as they say in high circles. As someone who regards the art of compost as the most interesting part of gardening, I have spent a lot of time with decomposing organic matter, often with my hands in lovely crumbly black stuff, admiring the abundance of life which has come forth from dead stuff. I have an immune system which doctors have been known to envy. Can't be any connection, can there?

Anonymous said...

Munchausen's Disease by Proxy," Now thats the disease you want hurt some on else but you really meant to hurt yourself just ask Beverley Allit the nurse. So if I stick one on you don't get offended I really meant to punch myself.

Dick the Prick said...

My mum used to listen to gardener's question time and I accidently caught it a bit back; fuck me, makes normal question time seem like tea & cakes at the local Rotary Club or something - these bastards were ready to kill each other over herbacious borders or how to napalm aphids - rather fantastic, really.

call me ishmael said...

The really obnoxious one, mr dtp, Belfast John Cushny (?), died a while back, maybe inhaled his own compost, he was full of what passes in Belfast for humour but is actually cruelty and spite, well suited to GQT.

Nurse Wendy, eh, haven't heard about her for a while, skymadeupnewsandfilth will no doubt get round to her, when they've finished running the govament of strong-an-stable fairies.