Only for the deeply stupid.

My mission for you this issue, dear readers, has been to self-improve myself through self-help books. Can I lead An Intelligent Life, Survive my Family, Make Intimate Connections with my Venusian Wife, Develop 7 Habits and therefore become a Highly Effective Person, and avoid becoming a Toxic Parent? Did all my relationships until now (perfection) Break Up because they were Broken, or because I was Just Not That Into Her? Can I find the Wealth Within, or become a Little Bit Calm?

I’m pretty okay with myself and those around me, okay? If there’s anything I don’t need, and I speak on behalf of the rest of humanity here, it’s another self-help book. But I own some. Jointly. And I’ve never read them.

Where do I start with all this crap? It’s easy enough to pooh pooh and p’chaw at all the apparently well-meaning psycho-babble, and I’m nothing if not a lover of soft targets, but I remain open to the idea that there’s possibly something of some small value somewhere in the hundreds of You Can Be Better books out there.

That being said, however, when there are titles out there advising me to improve my relationship through macrobiotic cooking and following the teachings of Thoth (puhleeze, go look it up!) and other such sphincter- loosening titles, I can’t help but think humanity’s hit a dead end, and it’s time for those Damn Dirty Apes to have a go at it while we all run around in furs and dirt, grunting at each other.

So, I began with Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Ick (there’s been rather a lot of Ick over the past few days, lemme tell ya). So according to Mars/Venus, I’m like a rubber band, and lovelywife is like a wave. I snap, and she drowns people.

Apparently, whenever I get close and intimate and feel comfortable, I need to then withdraw for a while, then I come back refreshed and all cuddly and everything’s okay. Somehow this is different from my wife’s supposed need to behave like a wave; that is, she crashes on to shore, then withdraws, then comes back. With me yet?

I need to feel validated, she needs to feel listened to. She needs me to show her appreciation, by doing the little things, like wash up and cook and change the toilet roll. I need her to appreciate me for doing all those little things. Still not with me?

The writers of Men are from Mars Women are From Venus have stumbled on an amazing trick, which couples have been overlooking for thousands of years now: Listen To Each Other. And they made millions out of it, which pisses me off, because all they’re doing is telling us what we already know, and putting it in a cute package.

A guy named Greg wrote a book called “He’s Just Not That Into You”. Greg knows a lot of stupid chicks, and they write him letters. On the basis of “Dear Greg, I lived with a guy and he cheated on me and I found out and we broke up”, Greg is able to decipher all the mysteries and detail of their relationship, and informs us that the guy who cheated on her and now doesn’t return her obsessive phone calls and emails is Not That Into Her. Well, shucks.

Greg took another great leap into the unknown, with his next tome, “It’s called a Breakup because it’s Broken”. With more of his stunning insight, he informs us that most guys are pretty basic and walk away when we don’t want to be where we are anymore. He further reinforces, quite helpfully, that women are nutjobs who can’t go for an hour without calling or writing or showing up at their ex’s workplace or favourite bar.

Both these books run on the tried and tested self-help book formula of little made-up letters every couple of pages, which illustrate whatever the chapter’s supposed to be about. A few paraphrased examples:

“Dear Greg,

I’ve been going out with a guy for about a year, and he recently caught up with his ex-wife, and he slept with her. He’s really sorry and says it won’t happen again. I want to forgive him, but I just don’t know how he could do this if he were actually in love with me.

He isn’t.

“Dear Greg,

I broke up with my boyfriend, and he’s stopped calling me! How could we have gone from such closeness to such distance? I miss him so much! Surely he’s thinking about me?

He isn’t.

Dear Greg,

I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me, so we broke up, and I got the best revenge! I cut up all his clothes into little pieces and dumped them on The Whore’s front lawn! Yay me! Every waking moment I think about him suffering!”

He isn’t.

All of these letters appear to be written by desperate, needy, insecure, annoying potential stalkers, and it’s absolutely no bloody wonder they pick the wrong guys, or the right guys are just running away in disgust. So thumbs up to Greg for picking an audience, and writing to it, but he honed that ability as a consultant on Sex And The City for three years, so ,‘Nuff said really.

I started on The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, but when I read in the blurb that other self-help writers describe the author as an American Socrates, I started to gag. Then I flicked over to, no I’m not kidding, the Gofer Delegation Paradigm, and Writing And Using A Personal Mission Statement, and started to seriously consider the effectiveness of a half -brick and a four iron.

Which is pretty much where this adventure ends, I’m afraid. Faced with a pile of these dreadful things, I reached my bullshit limit and set fire to them all. Now the only thing I have left is a huge pile of Fuck Off. ALL these books are saying the same fucking thing, and it’s this:

Here’s a bunch of stuff you already know, packaged up in acronyms and watch words. Give me your money. You are stupid.

So I developed a quick, simple self-help strategy for those of us who aren’t stupid. Best of all, it’s free. Here goes:

Think before you talk, and listen before you think. Think about what you’re listening to, and think about what you’re thinking, listen some more, then think a bit, then talk, but don’t stop thinking about what you’re saying, and how the other person might be thinking about what they’re hearing. Put a few drops of lavender oil in your bath, take two Temazepam and call me in the morning.

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