So. Things are looking up. Or are they? They appear to be looking up – they look as though they might be about to look up – but nothing is carved in stone as yet. Maybe we can agree on: things are threatening to look up. But I refuse to get my hopes up. It’s much better, after all, to be surprised and elated if things go well, than disappointed and distraught and sick to your very coccyx when they don’t. But having said that, it’s difficult not to hold out hope.
And maybe there’s some good in it. In hope. And positive thinking. Even if it doesn’t come completely naturally – it can’t do any harm. Surely. What about cosmic ordering while we’re about it? I know Noel Edmonds makes a queasy mouthpiece, but he wouldn’t have created an iPhone app if he didn’t believe in it. Not Noel. And if Noel Edmonds believes in it, then I for one am prepared to give it a chance.
So I looked into cosmic ordering recently – about an hour and a half ago to be precise – because frankly, my own personal cosmos is in terrible disarray at the moment. It’s a state. And you’ll never guess – turns out cosmic ordering is just – basically – positive thinking. And writing stuff down. And turns out Noel Edmonds has created an iPhone app for it, which costs £1.19. (Down from £1.59.) The app has been rated by 76 users and averages two stars out of five. Chris Goodchild got a ticket with his. He gives it five stars:
‘Perfect been using Cosmic Ordering for years and it works for me. No more scraps of paper, just the ticket.’
‘A quins fan’, however, was disappointed, and only gave it one star:
‘Can’t! belive I wasted £1.59 on this sh*t. Don’t! Bother a total rip of.’
One’s of Noel’s wishes must have been to ride a giant golden twat-drawn chariot through the Christmas ratings, rancid with health, wealth and bonhomie, a long tail of desperate, credulous humans clinging to his diamond train, weeping in his wake and frantically polishing their crystals.
Surely only a proper Charlie would actually pay for something so obvious.
Having said that, I reckon there’s something in it. Not much, but something.
I reckon if you imagine what you want to happen in your life, remind yourself of it frequently enough and keep it fresh in your mind – like a shopping list – then there’s a better chance of it, or something like it, happening. But only because thought turns to action much more readily than non-thought does. It’s like if you want to remember to pick up some eggs: write it down. Same goes for beans, coleslaw, love, health, prosperity, radishes and the great gift of being able to fuck everyone.
That’s why I’ve turned to The Cosmic Ordering Service.
Simple. It’s just like passing a note up the chimney to Father Christmas.
I’ve made seven.
I hope I haven’t left it too late.
I’ve also joined CouchSurfing, and I’ve kind of fallen in love with it a little bit. The whole idea. It’s very Jesus. No one’s offered to put me up yet, but a couple of people have offered to meet up and say hello. When I began to realise all that CouchSurfing could do, I did that shaking the head thing that I think only people of a certain age do. ‘Kuh,’ I said, as I shook the head, ‘the internet, eh?’ I remember when CB radio went mental. Kuh.
One day I hope to have a couch. And 400 cats.
I’m killing time tonight, waiting for my virtual cosmos star to go out in 31 minutes, having gone about its immemorial work of making everything look, and feel, like a dream.