O.G.H. Savage

Darling, that’s just my Easel

Easel Drawing

This article explores the subject of relationships and tells the story of a man attempting to form a one-man celibacy organisation named Monk Club

I’ve been forced to buy a toe-spreader in the interest of battling a long-lasting fungal infection I picked up in the swimming pool. Walking into a cool cafe, I swing my coat off with a little panache, accidentally jettisoning the toe spreader across the room. It rebounds off a bench (they’re surprisingly bouncy) and ends up at the table of an attractive woman, who does her best to ignore the sudden appearance of the small rubber object. I look up at my phone at my phone to escape.

‘The world is collapsing’, reads the headline of some online newsletter I’ve ended up on the list of.

Battling ailments can get you down. I was being hyper-critical of my Grandpa for banging on about his hip replacement before I did my ankle and almost immediately tried to get a disabled badge. This is one of the solutions I’ve thought up to battle the injustices of modern society. I’m also considering attempting to retire before the age of 30 and seeing how it goes down. I must have rights of some sort.

Would it be weird to have an easel in your room? I’ve been thinking of getting one. Not just for artistic practice and to fill the space, but to act as a talking point in conversations with anyone that comes around. I’m going to practice saying ‘darling, that’s just my easel’ and ‘oh, that old thing’. If I ever have an exhibition, I want to call it Darling, That’s Just My Easel. I want that known, and indeed copyrighted.

Would it be a talking point though, or would I just seem like a massive ponce? Maybe I’d be considered a neo-renaissance man. I saw someone who declared himself a neo-renaissance man on LinkedIn the other day, but apparently not in a pretentious way. Thank God he declared that it wasn’t in a pretentious way.

I always enquire about the love life of my associate Señor Tradge. He has a way with women – the wrong way.

We sat at a London cafe chewing the fat, and Tradge began.

‘The other day I was alone at the cinema, thinking that the closest thing I had to female company was how much the Haribo egg I held felt like a woman’s nipple. Yes, I’m still as single as a pringle. Well, one that’s fallen out of the tube and become separated from the rest of the Pringles. You know what I mean. Anyway, I’ve seriously lowered my sexpectations’.

‘Funny you should mention all this actually’. I said (with a kind of rising tone like somebody who wanted to be heard but was slightly reticent and simultaneously attempting to avoid a well-anticipated monologue).

‘I’ve been thinking of writing some anxiety-ridden porn and calling it Neurotica. It’s a whole new genre’.

‘I don’t care’. Tradge fired back. ‘We’re on me now, and I’m off the dating scene anyway. I’ve attempted to form an organisation named Monk Club – it’s based on philosophical arguments for why you shouldn’t have sex. It started off with only one member and that’s me’.

‘Interesting, Tradge’, I remarked, while pressing my hands together and leaning back in a way that suggested we were weaving our way towards a conversation of the utmost sophistication.

‘Tell me more’.

‘Well, it happened after watching a series of YouTube videos about why you should refrain from having sex. The arguments took the form of needing to find happiness on one’s own prior to engaging with others, and the need to contain the ego’s desperate, rapacious search for fulfilment through relentless attempts to bang people. According to Epicurus, sex is a natural desire, but to be happy and content one does not require its fulfilment. There’s a correlation between poor mental health and the frequency of casual hookups. You can check that on the International Academy of Sex Research if you want’.

‘I’ll take your word for it’.

‘I picked up a couple of followers along the way. People I convinced to join Monk Club and the benefits of not engaging in sexual relations and the psychological health benefits of not doing so. It seems there’s a demand out there for a kind of stoic abstinence. Anyway, it all turned out pretty badly. My followers basically found out about this casual affair I had and banned me from my own organisation. Tragic really. I mean, I’m the one who founded the whole thing. I should never have given them admin rights for the Facebook group. They disabled my access then sent out an official group message about how they had to close it down because it was built on a lie. Look, I took a screenshot’, said Tradge, as he handed over his phone.

Dear Monk Club member,

It is with extreme regret that we write to inform you that our cherished organisation formerly known as Monk Club is closing down. This is due to its Director and founding father Señor Tradge’s admittance of engaging in sexual relations whilst on holiday in Zanzibar.

We have been told that Tradge is appealing the decision and has threatened to begin a new organisation, Monk Club 2.0. We advise you not to join this organisation, as he has been shown to be nothing more than a deluded liar, a corrupt member of the asexual community.

If you are interested in continuing your non-sex journey, please subscribe to The School of Life on YouTube.

Kind regards,

The Monk Club Committee

PS Monk Club 4 life

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