"I don't Agree with That"

James and I are having are having one of our fortnighly lunches.

"I don’t agree that Time does not exist, look...say you boil a kettle...it takes time for the kettle to boil."

"Yes, but James...let's take time out of the equation. The kettle will still boil, it is energy that makes the kettle boil. Now take energy out of the equation and the kettle will not boil, Time won’t make the kettle boil."

 I don’t have the nous to say say this because I am so red in the face with James disagreeing with everything I say.

"What does Nietzsche think?  Well...I think that...he thinks Art is a kind of solace, we have Art lest we think about the truth. I suppose he is referring to our cosmic isolation."

"I don’t agree with that."

We sip our coffee and nibble at our maceroons, like a couple of chess players stalled, contemplating our next move.

"You see Sarte says...you have free will and you can be spontaneous..."

"But James to have free will you have to completly own yourself, and surely that is not possible, you know language is a system that speaks us and... surely existentialism  is well, isn’t it a bit adolescent? I love Camus and Sarte but to go  around shooting people on a  whim, I mean.... it’s French. Its culturally specific. " 

"I dont agree with that." (surprise surprise)

"I went to see the Kings Speech. Have you seen it?"

"What?...seeing a film about the that odd little German dynasty the ‘Royal Family'.  Hollywood rubbish."

"Oh, I don't agree with that."

"The Kings Speech does have something to say...like the play Billy, you know human aspiration, overcoming..."

"What complete bollocks... these cultural phemonema are tosh, confidence  tricks played  on an unsuspecting public."

"I don't agree with that, they are quite original."

 "Bu how can anything tbe original, for if it  was 'original' you would not know what it is, you have to compare it to something. "

"I don't agree witht that..."

I console myself with thinking what does it matter for all opinions are just theories. So I express that to him.
"Oh, I don't agree with that."  Well, you could knock me over with a feather.

Why do we have these lunches he does not agree with anything I say and I do not agre with anything the says.

We sip our overpriced coffee. Around us in this pretentious Soho eaterie the babble of arty types spout what seems to me to be self important, vacuous nonsense.  I listen  to them talking too loudly about this ‘below the line' cost, and this production problem and I feel that I just don't agree with anything they say.

We head for the door,  "...aren’t you go ing to leave a tip?"

"What! In this overpriced dump?"

"I will leave one, I don't agree with not leaving a tip."

We stand in the street seething with each other. But none the less, process the ritual.

"A couple of weeks time?"

"Yeah, shall we say... Tuesday the  4th?"

"Look forward to it."

"Alright, take care, Bosco."

"And you too, James."

We part in Soho and give each other a hug in a pair of disagreeable bastards way.