I remember a quote from the movie 'Seven' years ago...

'On the subway today, a man came up to me to start a conversation. He made small talk, a lonely man talking about the weather and other things. I tried to be pleasant and accommodating, but my head hurt from his banality. I almost didn't notice it had happened, but I suddenly threw up all over him. He was not pleased, and I couldn't stop laughing.'

Being the resident OLO psychopath I can relate to this on some level. There is something about middle aged men in cheap suits that brings these kind of feelings for me too!

Is it the sadness, the look of beaten, world weary acceptance and conformance to the system? I can imagine the lonely soul-less existence towing the company line 'til late every evening and coming home to lonely nights in front of TV dinners, or else the slow death by a thousand cuts from the nagging wife, the fear of losing the job then the house then the family overriding any sense of freedom. The 'struggle', the walking dead look that the cheap suited middle management man seems to wear.

In contrast I don't see this same kind of sadness in your average construction worker or manual labourer or even the crazy long hours small shop owner. Perhaps because they see the sky and don't have that skin that looks somehow stained by the fluorescent lighting. I suppose that they wear no symbol of conformance like the tie may also have something to do with it.

I know this sadness of the struggle has been expressed a lot in other films like Train-spotting (The choose life speech at the start in comparison to Heroin), American Beauty and All or Nothing, but I'm still always left wondering if I'm the only psychopath that finds this so distasteful. The waste of a soul. I'd love to feel more pity, but somehow the image of the suit and tie, the middle aged spread, the balding comb-over and glasses just fills me with loathing.

That's completely weird, Houellebecq

>>...somehow the image of the suit and tie, the middle aged spread, the balding comb-over and glasses just fills me with loathing.<<

Amazingly, that is almost word-for-word the image that I have of you when I read your posts.

You missed out the bit about dropping ash on the floor next to the worn-out armchair that you sit in while watching re-runs of Baywatch, and the images of you sifting the big bits out of the kitty-litter so that you can use it again.

But apart from that, picture-perfect.

Amazing.

Pericles, you owe me a glass of single malt scotch, and very nearly a new keyboard.

On a recent trip down to Brisbane, I had two startling discoveries in less than 24 hours.

The first came on the plane, as I sat next to a middle-aged man in a cheap suit wearing fascinatingly ugly shoes. I am not a shoe person, but I couldn't stop looking. I spent some time wondering what had happened in his life to make him think that purchasing such disgusting footwear was desirable or even acceptable; I was also horrified at his generally angry and impatient behaviour. I sat on the plane for two hours hoping that I would never turn out like that.

The next day, I spent a lot of time in an expensive suit attending meetings and wandering around the CBD. I don't usually wear suits, I only own two ties and I NEVER get to spend time in the city. What was my reaction? I kept thinking to myself 'I want a piece of this!' It was so much more exciting than the boring suburban high school that accommodates my working life. There was a feel of ambition, of wealth, of success - none of which I see on a regular basis.

So how do these ambitious, wealthy, successful people turn into cheap suit wearing, ugly shoe buying angry middle-aged men? What are the warning signs? How can people save themselves?

I suspect Houellebecq's attitude may be more a reflection on "HOUELLEBECQ" rather than old men in cheap suits (that is if he's actually serious, which I very much doubt - - - - - surely nobody could be THAT stupid).

Is it the cheap suits that seem to upset you ladies, or the cheapskates that they are a symbol of. Shakespeare had some words to say about clothes. Expensive thy dress as thy purse can stand but not expressed in fancy.

I once knew a few country members of Parliament, genuine blokes who used to romp in every election in safe seats, and apart from their parliamentary experience most of them would qualify as middle aged men in cheap suits. Many of them had never learned to tie a Windsor knot on their tie, so always looked a bit lopsided, and some when on the road had crumpled shirts, like bachelors. I am sure some of them only had one pair of shoes, and scuffed at that.

Is it better for a middle aged man to wear jeans and a T shirt than a cheap suit. The problem is that jeans come in all grades from $20 up to $500 and it is not hard to tell the difference. Is a middle aged man in cheap jeans, in the same category.

Do you prefer a show pony, to a genuine draft horse. I think that is probably so, and if a bloke has a cheap suit the chances are he has no woman trying to make him look like he is worth cheating with. Not that he is necessarily a cheater, but in a cheap suit he is probably not going to get a chance.

Is this a symptom of the superficiality that is infesting our society. What about women who do not go to much trouble to dress when they go out. I see young schoolgirls with laddered stockings, who are not taking the trouble to replace them, or may be cannot afford to, and what are they going to look like at forty.

A bloke has only to try some dating agencies, to realize there are a lot of very ordinary middle aged ladies just as lonely as blokes in cheap suits. Its no wonder the poker machines are popular with a forty something individual of either sex.