This is half a year old, but new and giggleworthy to me.
300: Gays kill blacks.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST: Peasant girl develops Stockholm Syndrome.
BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA: Redneck trucker kills Chinese immigrants.
FALLING DOWN: Life is difficult for white men.
GONE WITH THE WIND: Rich, white slave owner enjoys getting raped, miscarries.
ROCKY: White man beats black man.
W.: Unspeakable disaster afflicts America. Then terrorists attack.
and I grdgingly have to accept:
BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER: Teenage serial killer destroys town in fit of semi-religious fervor.
I missed doing this in the New Year and just came across it now so I thought I'd try it. And, hmmmm. I appear to be underwhelmed by their selection.
SF/fantasy novels everyone must read
The Guardian has come up with a list of 1000 novels everyone must read. (well every Guardian reader anyway). This is the Science Fiction & Fantasy component.
( Here's the List )
strikethrough I hated. Italics mean I’ve heard of and may try.
Said cat went in for first dental treatment, with the expectation that they would remove one tooth, or call if more serious work was needed.
Instead I got no call and they whipped out 8 teeth including all his remaining top molars. All! I was gobsmacked but now I think I'm emerging from shock as I intend to make a formal complaint. I'm really quite angry that they did not consult with me before proceeding. I would have not opted for that all at once, even if delay of some would have only bought him a couple more years of toothiness and cost more in the long run. Poor Funks.
But saw a longlost friend yesterday who said she's going to Latitude with a bunch of mates next week. As travel has always been the factor preventing me from Latitude so far, I've lept at the chance. So now I'm doing at least one festival a month, May to Sept. Hee. But Florence and the Machine are not at this one, so I think that her Sept tour is my best bet to see her.
Life. It's a funny old game.
Even talking about it, I am conscious of not conveying how it feels, what it’s like, how it’s shaped my life, my attitude and my values. And I may fail here as well. But that’s no reason not to try.
Here are the consistencies:
- I have always bought a ticket – I just felt that it was such a privilege to be there and if Eavis was kind enough to create it, the least I could do was pay my way. Student, unemployed and working – always paid.
- I have always agreed with Eavis’s verdict at the end of every festival – best festival ever. The most recent is always the best. You want to yearn for the good old days, then stay away and nostalge all you like.
It is the festival of the Moment. Always personal, but also often shared, sometimes communal. This year I was blessed with many.
( Cut for length. It appears I witter rather... )
Back to the Hilton, the lovely guy of the desk offered me a cup of tea and a window seat to wait to see the bus come in. So nice. Once on the bus I even managed to contort myself onto a double coach seat and sleep for a couple of hours, awaking to the rush hour excitement (cough) of kensington through to Victoria with an ever-more-frazzled driver. Finally having to hoist the backpack again, after a few wrong turns I got myself onto a Cambridge Circus bus to become, on the dot of 9 am, the 8th person queuing for that day's Doll's House. And as a cherry on top, got my cousin's text to say she could come after all.
After a delicious performance at the Donmar, London blurred into London things, but 3 precious experiences must be singled out:
1. I was introduced to the Islington Fantasy Centre, a week before it closes its doors after 40 years. Erik Arthur regaled us with personal experiences of every speculative author of the last half decade while I clutched Ellen Datlow anthologies to my chest and regretted every moment I had missed. It reminded me of the first bookshops I ever knew, yellowed pages and infinite imagination. Wah.
2. By pure chance, I stumbled on the British Silent Film festival, and they were showing an absolute corker: Palais de Danse, 1928 naughtiness and menacing mostaches. Phwoar dastardly. With an absolutely brilliant 4 piece orchestra improvising seamlessly.
3. Arcadia, organised with panache by the_elyan so long ago, whose witty, pretty, fizzy brilliance put even Doll's House in the shade, and has made me seek out everything Stoppard. And new and re-acquaintances with a very lovely group of people was the cherry on a martini night.
And now home, where CAB Volunteering is beginning to take shape, and all things Cajun cause me delight.
Kisses to all who helped make the last couple of weeks so delightful xxx
I've pootled around on researching how to do maximum travel, on minimum budget, while signing on every fortnight that I am actively seeking work (which I am, I am - as long as it doesn't start before September).
A summer off after 10 years non-stop employment. Fair by anyone's standards.
So far I have - cycled into the city for the first time ever, booked a tent, some tickets and a South Wales wanderer for Hay. I should now book a £1 ticket from Newport to London on the Friday to be timely for Arcadia on the Saturday. For which I have not yet even begun to sort out where I'll sleep. And I still owe The_Elyan. Eeek.
Festivalitis starts this weekend - woohoo - and my plan to nip down to London for a one-dayer on Thursday to queue and then watch a matinee of Doll's House came upstuck because I hadn't clocked that that is opening night. But this was clearly fate, because now I have unexpected delightful house guest. And I think I can pull it off next Thursday -- if anyone else is interested in doing the same, let me know.
I've also arranged - finally - for long overdue work on my house to be done , fixed, outta here. Now I'm just trying to work out how to sneak off to Prague and Venice for a week in between Jarvis popping in for a visit on 14th June, and Glastonbury. 13th June, I have semi-committed to a Nawleans garden party. People wot I've met in person - please consider this an invitation - people, cocktails, zydeco, and hopefully, hopefully, sunshine.
In other treats news, my redundancy present to me is the most expensive clock radio ever... £50! ... but now I wake up to 6music. Adam and Joe, I missed thee. It'll last me 20 years so £2.50 a year is a bargain :-)
July is another country. Well, acksherly, it is most likely to be this country, pootling and festivalling. I feel like the luckiest spoon in Runcible. Certainly the giddyest. (it seems wrong to deprive giddy of its "y". So I won't.)
Stop. Send back the white coat! It's not that it's all become too much for me. Rather, a series of happy coincidences have produced a gem of a day. First, I rolled out of bed to respond to a text alerting me to the fact that David Tennant and Catherine Tate had taken their show on the road. Or rather, given Jonathan Ross an Easter holiday and today's Doctor Who an extended plug. Both of these things are unmitigated goodness as far as I'm concerned and they were natural and fun. Their attempt to host the regular convoluted quiz, involving a frog clock, was particularly worthy of snorting tea through one's nose.
Then, victuals for Easter Sunday were gathered from market and local shops (in an unusually timely way) allowing me to treat myself with a pint of amber nectar and the Guardian in my favourite pub. Bookended by a book on the bus. Namely Jeff Vandermeer's Shriek: an Afterword. This should be read by anyone with siblings as it is one of the most perfect evocations of all the complexity of love and rivalry through the inspired device of a self-absorbed brother annotating the biography of himself and his journals by his equally precocious sister. The inserted responses of brother to sister's writing, variously barbed and petulant, keep making me involuntarily splutter, triggering those bus glances. Oh JV, I love thee so.
I have just lunched on the M&S multipack of hot smoked trout (mmm), salmon (yum) and mackerel and suddenly all is delicious with the world and my brain starts working. If a little randomly.
( Lo-ong List )
I have to count them now? I make that 217. Little Miss Oblong-eyes.
- 89 pre-1970 - TNT in my teens and just what's available these days. Plus a film module at University - 1939 and 1962, eh. There may be a few extra that I saw but can't remember by name, but in that case I may as well not have seen them.
- 27 70s - Again - all of these were after the fact, but late 70s were much more likely to be on american TV in the 80s. The early 70s I caught up with in the 90s. And sadly they were mostly horrid. (Five Easy Pieces -grr)
- 43 80s - Blimey -I watched everything. Except Godfather 2
- 34 90s + 24 00s - everything was available but I was a lot more picky. And Oscar's and my tastes divurged widely. Notice the 100% lack of Tim Burton movies in that rolecall for a starter. Although Milk is just a matter of not yet.