"Talkin' to myself and feelin' old
Sometimes I'd like to quit
Nothing ever seems to fit
Hangin' around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down."
And: why is it everytime it rains I forget my beautiful waterproof pants for the wearing of whilst commuting on my scooter? Is it that I have a subconcious desire to chill and marinate my testicles with cold rain? Or simply that I am an idiot in the mornings?
However, balls, rain, and monday work tasks aside, it is a good day because I still have 'America's Next Top Model' and 'Boston Legal' to look forward to. During this slump in Channel 4's programming, I thank God for LivingTV. You think i'm joking, don't you? Would that i were, but my life is precisely this exciting.
Slightly disjointed post i know, but i'll leave you with this bombshell:
I is acceptable to quote Carpenters lyrics, it is totally unacceptable to go around humming it. So go and listen to some Stephen Malkmus or something. Just flush that satiny, satany, pop-smoothness out of your ears.
P.S. I wonder what's going to fuck up Tuesday?
Monday, August 22, 2005
Friday, August 19, 2005
Dragonfly faces Demon
'Tombo' means 'dragonfly in Japanese.
When I was a boy, I went on a camping trip with my uncle and my cousin on the banks of Lake Yubara, near where the Japanese half of my family lives. Uncle had a brand new canoe from which we intended to spend the weekend fishing.
After setting up camp, we launched the canoe, fitted the swanky little outboard motor, and chugged into the middle of the lake to spend the morning casting and re-casting without success.
After a lunch of 'onigiri' (rice balls) Uncle went for a nap, so Cousin and I decided to take the boat out. Young boys mucking about in boats don't pay much attention to what's going on around them, and before long we had drifted up an inlet. The water was dead still in this sheltered corner of the lake and vegetation floated on the surface all around us, rotting and putrid.
We tried to start the engine, but the propeller was clogged with rotting leaves and twigs. As I leaned over to try and de-tangle the engine the canoe rocked once, twice, and tipped us unceremoniously into the muddy water.
We scrambled to shore, retching and spitting the rancid stuff from our mouths. Uncle came running to wee what the commotion was about, but concern turned swiftly to anger as he saw the prow of his new boat dissappearing beneath the soggy skin of the lake.
He ordered us to retrieve the canoe immediately, and is not a man to be denied. Cousin was ashen faced at going back in the water, but I, felt more than partly resposible. For the first time in my life I made the active decision to take responsibility and face the consequences of my action head on.
I took my first steps into the water. The stench rose into my nose and I was gagging as i waded out. When my feet could no longer touch the bottom, I paddled a gentle breaststroke so as to avoid splashing my face. When I got to the site of the sunken vessel, I took several deep breaths and dived. It seemed to take forever, feeling around in the murky depths, to locate the prow of the boat sticking up from the lake bed. I found the tow rope, and holding it tight, reached for the surface.
Desperately trying not think about the rotten crud in my hair and on my face, I began to swim as hard as I could for shore, towing the submerged canoe behind me.
I didn't notice it at first. It was heading straight for me, or more accurately I for it; standing on the rigid surface skin of the water, a gigantic dragonfly. Its stripes were crimson and astro-turf green, it's shiny spherical eyes turquoise-blue. Desperately tring to stop before i swam face-on into it, I back-paddled until the dragonfly and I were nose to nose. I hardly dared breathe; the insect did not stir, its wings and body perectly parallell with the water.
I realised after several tense moments that although it was equipped to see in almost every direction, this beast could not see at all - it was in fact dead. I wondered what to do: I could not go forward without colliding with the deceased. I could not go back for fear of losing the boat. The solution I found was to waft my hand under water until the insect drifted away.
When I dragged myself from the water, shaken but victorious, I was changed. I knew that when you take responsibility for something, you'll always get more than you bargained for. And I've been facing my dragonflies ever since.
The Unbearable Heaviness of Commuting
My scooter is being serviced (by a couple of grumpy south african neanderthals at Scooterden). This means that for the first time in 3 months, i have been forced onto the London Underground. Personally I think the name 'Underground' should be changed in favour of something that doesn't constantly remind you that you are basically trapped in a mass grave. And I have never felt so uncomfortable. This morning's thunder and rain, combined with the hot and muggy summers day rendered the atmosphere on the platform soupy. Jostling our way to the train door, we hear the soggy slopping of cheap suits drenched with rain and sweat flapping on commuters' sour skin.
Stepping into the carriage is like entering the communal sauna in the nether regions of Hades. Steam rises, billowing in the arch of the roof before descending in drizzles down the steamy windows. Any handhold is sticky with condensation and grime; the opressive presence of other people is everytwhere, in the air, on my skin, creeping itchy up my legs. When the train disgorges most of it's passengers at Holborn, I take small comfort in the extra space and try and hold my breath for one more stop.
It was never a pleasant experience travelling on the tube, but since getting my Vespa and ceasing to be dependant on public transport, I have realised what complete madness it is that we as Londoners put up with a system that is practically medieval. I cannot think of another country where getting from A to B is as unpleasant as in London. The Parisian Metro may smell a bit of wee, but at least it's spacious. The Tokyo trains may be overcrowded, but at least they run on time, are cheap, and are air-conditioned. The New York Subway may be full of crazy people, but at least it's convenient to use and runs all night. The Underground has all of these failings, and more, and none of the benfits. I am amused by the statistic that the most expensive journey on earth, is a single on the Picadilly Line from Leicester square to Covent Garden. £2.20 or so to travel 100 yards? That's more than Concorde - and you aren't exactly travelling in the lap of luxury.
So what's to be done? Livingstone, the Mayor of London, has offered a reward for anyone who can solve the problem of air conditioning on the tube. I don't understand why they can't attatch an extra carriage at the end of the train to carry the A/C unit. Or put dry ice in the seats. Whatever. But I'm going back to the grumpy south africans and bribing them hurry up with my scooter. 2 wheels good, 200 wheels - very bad indeed.
Stepping into the carriage is like entering the communal sauna in the nether regions of Hades. Steam rises, billowing in the arch of the roof before descending in drizzles down the steamy windows. Any handhold is sticky with condensation and grime; the opressive presence of other people is everytwhere, in the air, on my skin, creeping itchy up my legs. When the train disgorges most of it's passengers at Holborn, I take small comfort in the extra space and try and hold my breath for one more stop.
It was never a pleasant experience travelling on the tube, but since getting my Vespa and ceasing to be dependant on public transport, I have realised what complete madness it is that we as Londoners put up with a system that is practically medieval. I cannot think of another country where getting from A to B is as unpleasant as in London. The Parisian Metro may smell a bit of wee, but at least it's spacious. The Tokyo trains may be overcrowded, but at least they run on time, are cheap, and are air-conditioned. The New York Subway may be full of crazy people, but at least it's convenient to use and runs all night. The Underground has all of these failings, and more, and none of the benfits. I am amused by the statistic that the most expensive journey on earth, is a single on the Picadilly Line from Leicester square to Covent Garden. £2.20 or so to travel 100 yards? That's more than Concorde - and you aren't exactly travelling in the lap of luxury.
So what's to be done? Livingstone, the Mayor of London, has offered a reward for anyone who can solve the problem of air conditioning on the tube. I don't understand why they can't attatch an extra carriage at the end of the train to carry the A/C unit. Or put dry ice in the seats. Whatever. But I'm going back to the grumpy south africans and bribing them hurry up with my scooter. 2 wheels good, 200 wheels - very bad indeed.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Sick
I am sick. have been sick all weekend, and feel liked life is cheating me out of its fun. what have I done to deserve this I wonder?
On second thoughts, the answer to that really doesn't bear thinking about.
On second thoughts, the answer to that really doesn't bear thinking about.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Happiness
There is something about being in a boat, on a quiet river on a lazy summer's day, that relieves you of all your cares; and for that small window of time, between the previous and subsequent trials of life, you may consider yourself truly happy, if only for a while.
sexed-up nu-koncept: PROCRASTIN-8
Some thoughts about procrastination. I am a master of procrastination. Right now I am managing to put off doing any work, calling my mother, returning an e-mail to my friend, starting my novel AND finishing my film scripts. of which there are several in various stages of incomplete. I know, you think I must be exhausted and I am.
Procrastination is often confused with laziness. Whereas laziness requires one to do nothing much at all - and is therefore far from taxing; procrastination on the other hand demands constant thought and attention to what one would be doing if one were not too busy just thinking about it.
Unfortunately, becoming distracted is fundamental to procrastination. For example, I am listening now to 'Take 5', that over-popular number by Dave Brubeck, and am sorely tempted to take five myself, make a cup of tea and think about something else...
"Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy." - someone said that. Can't be bothered to look up who.
It's not all bad though: procrastination gives you something to look forward to.
I am looking forward to many things; finishing my film scripts, becoming rich and successful, retirement, the list goes on.
All of which will surely happen, just as soon as I actually apply myself.
"Procrastination is the thief of time." - lots of people have said this, including my father and many of my teachers. You would think that old people would keep themselves really busy, since the less you have of something, the more likely you are to notice it when someone steals it. Unless of course watching repeats of Countdown is considered an actual activity among the elderly.
"Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday." - Whoever said this was wrong. I couldn't possibly keep up that kind of pace. Besides there's enough to worry about today and tomorrow without getting bogged down in the past.
Finally:
Why do today what can be done tomorrow? I'll tell you why - because some disgruntled teenager may very well put a rucksack full of bomb on your bus and there may well be no tomorrow for you or me or anyone else. Well, there may be for me, because I ride a scooter to work. So maybe i'll put off finishing this post until tomorrow...
Procrastination is often confused with laziness. Whereas laziness requires one to do nothing much at all - and is therefore far from taxing; procrastination on the other hand demands constant thought and attention to what one would be doing if one were not too busy just thinking about it.
Unfortunately, becoming distracted is fundamental to procrastination. For example, I am listening now to 'Take 5', that over-popular number by Dave Brubeck, and am sorely tempted to take five myself, make a cup of tea and think about something else...
"Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy." - someone said that. Can't be bothered to look up who.
It's not all bad though: procrastination gives you something to look forward to.
I am looking forward to many things; finishing my film scripts, becoming rich and successful, retirement, the list goes on.
All of which will surely happen, just as soon as I actually apply myself.
"Procrastination is the thief of time." - lots of people have said this, including my father and many of my teachers. You would think that old people would keep themselves really busy, since the less you have of something, the more likely you are to notice it when someone steals it. Unless of course watching repeats of Countdown is considered an actual activity among the elderly.
"Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday." - Whoever said this was wrong. I couldn't possibly keep up that kind of pace. Besides there's enough to worry about today and tomorrow without getting bogged down in the past.
Finally:
Why do today what can be done tomorrow? I'll tell you why - because some disgruntled teenager may very well put a rucksack full of bomb on your bus and there may well be no tomorrow for you or me or anyone else. Well, there may be for me, because I ride a scooter to work. So maybe i'll put off finishing this post until tomorrow...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)