Hobbies The Minotaur Has Ruled Out - Mountaineering

Back in the days of Egypt, when Moses was about. You know the one, adopted secretly at birth because the Pharoah thought there was too many of his kind, and ordered the slaughter of all first born Israelite sons. That one. The baby in the basket. Yeah, him.

Moses as you know, was a prophet like me. He didn't know his real identity, but he knew he was different. Moses was a cast iron outcast, and ran from the pitchforks of the Pharoah (not the East Sussex community of Hastings like me, but nonetheless, ran for his life he did.)

I just told the pricks in my life what I thought of them, Moses on the other hand twatted one over the head. He couldn't stomach seeing another slave getting beaten. Absolutely battered that slave trader to death. Blood everywhere, rock in his hand, Moses breathing hard; never feeling more alive.

Moses had similar temper issues as me. Moses was a sorta friend, we could bang on about our enemies for hours, and he was somewhat the wunderkind with a yoyo. Mesmerising.

Anyway, back to my point about living for hobbies, art and fun. You see, I need to find more fulfilling hobbies than ruminating about the certain death of humanity. So far, I've found ruling out potential hobbies a lot more fun, than actually getting on the treadmill and doing one.

Moses was an active chap. Absolutely irritating on that front. Insisted that God was to be found at the top of a mountain. He'd seen the lightening bolts, and thought it was God. Bless him. Some days I'd pretend to time him as he climbed to reach yet another peak. The few days parting were a relief from his endless get up and go and teeth grinding. I decided then, in 1210BC, that mountain climbing wasn't for me. All that effort, and what do I get? cloud, and Moses twittering on about God. I think the thin air gets to him.

It's a weird ongoing popular hobby IMO. One now for the upper crust on the whole. The moneyed, who do multiple peak challenges for thousands of dollars. So they can crow on about it. They need to add substance to their trouble free lives somehow I suppose. Once you've reached the peak of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, you HAVE to do the three peak challenge on Everest darling.

Bear Grylls himself climbed Everest in 1998 at the age of 23. A posh, son of a Conservative politician who was called Bear as a wee bairn because he of his love of shitting wherever he was taken. If the man who coined the phrase "Moss is nature's tampon" (Ew) suggests that climbing a high thing is an achievement, then you're just as nuts as Moses.

Spencer Matthews of Made in Chelsea lost his posh brother because of this ongoing rich man's goal to get onto the top of a tall bit of land. Everest holds loads of them. Zombie, half frozen, posh morons who think that a selfie on top of Everest will make them more of a whole human being. There they lay for eternity, as perfectly frozen reminder that it's a stupid thing to do for a photo.

Of course, the achievement of the climb to the highest peak of Everest doesn't count so much if you're not white. Ask Tenzing Norgay. No? Everyone remembers Edmund Hillary, but not so much Tenzing. I say everyone... I'm being generous as usual. I digress, you probably want to read about Edmund Hillary as much as I want to cross train in breathable viscose.

So, as the idiots reach the death zone 8,000m (26,000 ft) above sea level where altitude and oxygen levels are insufficient to sustain human life, maybe they do feel God. In the same way that people who put plastic bags over their heads to masturbate feel God.

I think I've reached the end of my piece about why I don't want to go climbing. I'll time you while you do it though.

I'd rather suck a Cressida Dick.