I could complain for a while now about things getting in the way, as the title suggests, but I'll put that somewhere else (a personal journal). I find it easier to write as I think than to type as I think. Maybe it's because I have a thing that whatever I put in a Word document or on this thing here has to be "good". I can always use the back-space. There's no such thing on a pen. Unless you scribble something out. I don't like doing that. Unless it's complete and utter shite that proves that one is a total mickey-fiddler, a fiddler of the mickey. Plus, I like the way I write and I would probably be destroying some fine-looking "y"s or maybe a lovely "r". (Sometimes I do my "r"s like my aunt, especially if it's at the end of a word. Which is interesting because she took a great interesting in my learning to read and write was I was but a youngfla.)
I was in London from Monday last through to Thursday. Having a web of family living there, my parents have been going to London for years. My Da's uncle and his wife lived in Catford. They were both wonderful people but, God rest them, they've both since died. Their children are still in London and we still go to visit. London is a strange place for me. I'm sure I'm not the only one. Since I've been going there since I was a child, you'd think I'd know the city a bit. NOPE. I didn't need to; I just followed my Mammy & Daddy. I suppose if I was now to try to learn the way around the place, I'd just start at the river banks and follow it along, marking what's where. If I was daring, had a sense of sport, I'd go live there for a while. Or if I had an alternative motive, something to bring me there...
I managed (somehow) not to purchase any CDs or books while in London. I made the point in an earlier post that I buy a number of items while in the area of the pound Sterling. I had £60. I bought food, drink and transport. Fair enough. What else does one need I suppose?
At the moment I'm reading a short book entitled "The Diary of a Nobody". If by chance you come across it read it. Well done.
Haven't really been posting at all these days. Nothing really to be saying or willing to be saying, perhaps. I sense a detective novel arising. Just a quick note of congratulations to Incubus. I put Morning View on my mp3 before I went to London and rediscovered that it's legend. Nice one lads. So, that's it for now. I'll be going to Berlin soon enough. [Actually on another little rant about things: Isn't is shit realising how far away some things are? I don't just mean in terms of space, but of time too. Like, ah shite, that's a month away! Gee. Y'kno the way.] I'll report back on the ways things go in Berlin. Nice one.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Lord, it's July! Second Edition, 2008.
Well, well, ask me for a half a peanut and a cup of warm freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. It's July again. The 2007 edition of "Lord, It's July!" talked about the weather, the Irish Independent, Chris Rea and music in general.
So, I'll start with the weather this time. It's fuck. The sun's splitting the stones in other parts of the world and here it rains. Accuse me of (just singing 'bout places) giving out for the sake of it, but that's what I'm doing. Having the chance to sit in the sun and read isn't asking much. But, it seems it is.
I don't read the Irish Independent anymore. It's a load of mickey. I'll now look at the headlines on The Irish Times as I pass through Dunnes or wherever the hell I am just to have a gawk. The weekend edition is legend too. €2 for enough paper to wipe your arse 1,748 times. That's value. It makes me look posh in work on Saturdays when I do buy it. I'm sure they think I'm posh anyway. But reading the Weekend Review section of The Irish Times in the canteen when the other tables are covered by The Mirror and The Star sure puts the icing on the posh black forest gateau cake. Actually, would that be good- putting icing on a black forest gateau? It'd probably ruin it. But that's slightly irrelevant. Well, it would make my little deviation from the standard idiom make little or no sense, ach ní cuma liom!
Chris Rea is next on the list. We went to the concert in the National Stadium on the ninth of April. It was great. Played a two-hour set firstly as The Delmonts and secondly as The Fabulous Hofner Bluenotes. It's great to just create a fifties band and "reunite" them. Stroke of genius. They released a three CD & two LP set in one of those Earbooks. It's amazing. More new material. Just an update on how I'm getting on with regard to Blue Guitars. I've listened to eight of them at this stage. I love CD 7, Blues Ballads. "If I Ever Get Over You," great song.
Music in general. I'm listening to more Rufus Wainwright (like right now "Go Or Go Ahead" from Want One) and Rory Gallagher (what a surprise!). I bought the BBC Session Rory albums there the other day in HMV in the Blancherstown Centre along with Blueprint ('twas a two for €15 thing). I'm liking the debut album from Rufus ('twas a birthday present from Dave).
A.O.B.
I'm still reading John Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath". Steinbeck won't let anything happen without telling you about it, how it happens and its details. Each character isn't just given a face, but well-described features are in turn assigned to them. That preacher is an interesting fellow and Tom too. It'll probably take me another two weeks to finish it, knowing how I read.
Two of Elizabeth Bishop's poems came to mind in the last twenty-four hours. Last night I was thinking about "Questions of Travel". With all the talk of travel/going places/going somewhere to see things, it came to mind. As I was reading "The Grapes of Wrath" on the bus home this evening, the line "His jeans and shirt were thick and shiny with old grease..." made me think of... I'm sure you can guess by now... or can you? "Filling Station" of course. I just thought of her standing there in front of the character and exclaiming that he was "dirty". But Lizzy, eh, SO? SO? SO?
Tetris is terrible if you get addicted to it and play it before you go to bed. It'll fill your head and you'll visualize a game of it in your head and make up scenarios and try to get out of them to the best of your ability. They're dangerous things those little blocks. Be careful.
I was kindly given a lend of eight DVDs recently, essential film viewing as it were. "The Departed," "Donnie Darko," "Momento," "The Prestige," "Fight Club," "Brick," "American History X" and "Catch Me If You Can". Fair play to all them, they're grand.
So...? Well, that's it for year of "lord, It's July". And it's goodnight from him and it's goodnight from me. Well? Goodnight then. Shove off, you cokface git.
So, I'll start with the weather this time. It's fuck. The sun's splitting the stones in other parts of the world and here it rains. Accuse me of (just singing 'bout places) giving out for the sake of it, but that's what I'm doing. Having the chance to sit in the sun and read isn't asking much. But, it seems it is.
I don't read the Irish Independent anymore. It's a load of mickey. I'll now look at the headlines on The Irish Times as I pass through Dunnes or wherever the hell I am just to have a gawk. The weekend edition is legend too. €2 for enough paper to wipe your arse 1,748 times. That's value. It makes me look posh in work on Saturdays when I do buy it. I'm sure they think I'm posh anyway. But reading the Weekend Review section of The Irish Times in the canteen when the other tables are covered by The Mirror and The Star sure puts the icing on the posh black forest gateau cake. Actually, would that be good- putting icing on a black forest gateau? It'd probably ruin it. But that's slightly irrelevant. Well, it would make my little deviation from the standard idiom make little or no sense, ach ní cuma liom!
Chris Rea is next on the list. We went to the concert in the National Stadium on the ninth of April. It was great. Played a two-hour set firstly as The Delmonts and secondly as The Fabulous Hofner Bluenotes. It's great to just create a fifties band and "reunite" them. Stroke of genius. They released a three CD & two LP set in one of those Earbooks. It's amazing. More new material. Just an update on how I'm getting on with regard to Blue Guitars. I've listened to eight of them at this stage. I love CD 7, Blues Ballads. "If I Ever Get Over You," great song.
Music in general. I'm listening to more Rufus Wainwright (like right now "Go Or Go Ahead" from Want One) and Rory Gallagher (what a surprise!). I bought the BBC Session Rory albums there the other day in HMV in the Blancherstown Centre along with Blueprint ('twas a two for €15 thing). I'm liking the debut album from Rufus ('twas a birthday present from Dave).
A.O.B.
I'm still reading John Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath". Steinbeck won't let anything happen without telling you about it, how it happens and its details. Each character isn't just given a face, but well-described features are in turn assigned to them. That preacher is an interesting fellow and Tom too. It'll probably take me another two weeks to finish it, knowing how I read.
Two of Elizabeth Bishop's poems came to mind in the last twenty-four hours. Last night I was thinking about "Questions of Travel". With all the talk of travel/going places/going somewhere to see things, it came to mind. As I was reading "The Grapes of Wrath" on the bus home this evening, the line "His jeans and shirt were thick and shiny with old grease..." made me think of... I'm sure you can guess by now... or can you? "Filling Station" of course. I just thought of her standing there in front of the character and exclaiming that he was "dirty". But Lizzy, eh, SO? SO? SO?
Tetris is terrible if you get addicted to it and play it before you go to bed. It'll fill your head and you'll visualize a game of it in your head and make up scenarios and try to get out of them to the best of your ability. They're dangerous things those little blocks. Be careful.
I was kindly given a lend of eight DVDs recently, essential film viewing as it were. "The Departed," "Donnie Darko," "Momento," "The Prestige," "Fight Club," "Brick," "American History X" and "Catch Me If You Can". Fair play to all them, they're grand.
So...? Well, that's it for year of "lord, It's July". And it's goodnight from him and it's goodnight from me. Well? Goodnight then. Shove off, you cokface git.
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