Sunday, December 18, 2005

So let's see. I have several episodes of Rome or The Sopranos I could watch. Several films too, not to count all the DVDs I have.

I've got several things I could watch on my computer too, not least The God Who Wasn't There, because while I wouldn't steal a car or a DVD I would actually Torrent a movie that I wouldn't see any other way.

I've got that big Jaime Hernandez book, LOCAS to read, or failing that dozens of books and comics. I've got the latest Bi-Community News which I haven't read yet.

I'm restless and scratchy which normally means a slump if I can't somehow keep my mind occupied, except it's like when you're falling asleep, you're not even aware that your eyes are closing, your breathing slowing... The scratchiness means I'm already on the event horizon of the black hole.

In that sense of desperation I'm looking at Library Thing with probably unhealthy interest. If you were to take part in this I suggest you turn off any central heating you may have and arrange for someone to interupt you every few minutes with questions and occasional abuse just to faithfully simulate what it is like to work in a public library. I can't see why anyone would really want to do this, but then I suppose it's like Delicious and Flickr, "ooh, see what interesting web-pages I've seen/ places I've visited, why not compare them against your own pathetic life and then go and slit your wrists?"

Crap, iTunes is playing A Silver Mount Zion at me. Thanks iTunes, you have succesfully anticipated what I really need to hear right now. I listened to the first part of Penguin's A Christmas Carol podcast, wasn't easy as they'd mixed it so low, even at full blast it was almost inaudible as I walked along the street. But I'd never realised how funny Dickens really was before. Of course, I'd read such bundles of laughs as Little Dorrit and The Old Curiosity Shop, but there really is a lot of humour in A Christmas Carol and also tragedy. What I don't get is why TV and film versions have never managed to bring this out before. They seem to concentrate on emphaising Scrooge's miserly nature to grotesque proportions as though the story were written by Tom Clancy or John Grisham and therefore lacks all humanity. At the start of the story Scrooge desperately hates his life but feels trapped and locked into his behaviour. He already wears the chains that Marley only took on in death, and who knows what Marley has to suffer in order to free the one man he considered friend? It's a love story too. Now I'm beginning to understand why Dickens was so great.

I'm going to bed. Wake me if there's an apocalypse.


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