Leering at Mister Pip.

(On a positive triphop experience.)

The gaunt curly boys and the girls
with overbites
and the stunted swarthy men
and
the
writhing women with rhythm and
yeast infections
and the blue black light
in my wide wide eyes.

The Others.

A teensy bit banishéd, strangers are making 'there's an excrescence in an orifice and it's Hilarious' noises in my bed. I rather like them. And they know the canny way into a coconut, that's for sure.

Sad Salad

Nobody's looking - go now go!
Camera phone snaps; allow me to summarise:

1 Natasha's breasts (clad).
2 Natasha with monocle.
3 Uncle on motorbike outside Edinburgh castle embarking on charity coastal tour.
4 Mr Griffiths' brief but fabulous moustache.
5 A boy in a bandana with a hot potato.
6 Another walking down the street with a bin bag of clothes balanced on head.
7 Rusty hook in public toilet.
8 Graffito of half a face.
9 Piece of driftwood with a face on a wall.
10 'The Popular Restaurant', Dundee.
11 Girl's face with blue banana bread in tin foil.
12 The view of the ceiling from my bathtub.
13 Sign: 'Hawkman Services Ltd.: Abseilers Working Overhead'.
14 Romanesco broccoli: fibonacci sequence.
15 Squashed frog on pavement - one leg extended.
16 Haul of reclaimed food.
17 One torn thumb, pus, blood, filth.



Things I have not photographed lately:
1 Night walking, when everything is black and white and orange, because everything is black and white and orange.
2 Teeth tasting like dirty keys, because this is a taste.
3 Slugfoot revulsion.
4 'Reading' Finnegans Wake, because I can only do it arched across an easy chair with a pencil clenched between my teeth.

Undesirable developments.

1 Guffawing over atrocious comic books.
2 Eating raw garlic.
3 Nursing a squirmish crush on Buster Keaton.
4 Paying for everything in five pence pieces.
5 Plotting my escape.

Fishywishy.

In the Middle Ages there are three kinds of proof; from Reason, from Authority, and from Experience. We establish a geometrical truth by Reason; a historical truth, by Authority, by auctours. We learn by experience that oysters do or do not agree with us.
(C.S.Lewis)



The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
(Lewis Carroll)

The Origin of German Tragic Drama

'There were tensions between father and son, and inflation raged.'
[Steiner's introduction]

Five First Thoughts

Well with all thoses visitors I didn't want to sleep, but I caught up on it the next day and the day after that.
Love is when you take away the feeling; the passion and the romance in a relationship, and find out you still care for that person. Sad thing in life is when you meet someone who means a lot to you, only to find out in the end that it was never meant to be yours and you just have to let it go. When a door of happiness closes, another opens, but oftentimes we look so long at the closed door that we don’t see the door which has been opened for us.
Show me how you do that trick
'The one that makes me scream' – she said
'The one that makes me laugh' – she said
And threw her arms around my neck
'Show me how you do it
And I promise you I promise that
I’ll run away with you
I’ll run away with you'
ONUR REDA SENEL WAS BORN ON 15,03,2006. HE WAS BORN 2,460 kgs AND 49 cms AT PRIVATE SANKO HOSPITAL. HE WAS BORN 16 DAYS EARLIER THAN EXPECTED.
The tenth shoe was bought ten years ago.

~ Other people's blogs.

'Oh, this old thing?!'

r.e. Dressing up: Twelfth night since mardi gras…

Lemon pips and cocktail sticks
Undone.

r.e. Dressing down:
No more dressing gowns at noon. [improbable]

I drew on my face: think, blink, wink.
Zip it.

Calm.

Identifying with female protagonists is for the emotionally flatulent, right?
That said, when I tried it all got a bit bleak.


‘She had an immense capacity for coolness and an appearance of calm that hid violent fits of passion’ - of Thérèse Raquin (Thérèse Raquin, Émile Zola).

‘I was in my own room as usual--just myself without obvious change: nothing had smitten me, or scathed me, or maimed me...Jane Eyre, who has been an ardent, expectant woman--almost a bride--was a cold, solitary girl again: her life was pale’ - Jane Eyre, (Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë).
How hatefully self-indulgent, of both of us.

‘you should know that about me. You should be aware of my principle characteristic which I choose to call my calmness. Other people have called it coldness, lack of commitment, over-control, a fishy disposition. I say that I’m calm, a calm person, and usually leave it at that, but I feel you should be better informed.’ - Jennifer (So I am Glad, A. L. Kennedy).

Masochistic asceticism, or sadistic ultraviolence it is, then.
I’m all amull with the possibilities.

Thisday.

Itinerary:
I sat stale, reading Bloom’s ‘Elegy for the Canon’.
I cooked with potato, onion, beetroot, cream.
I listened to music it went Words are flowing out like / endless rain into a paper cup.
I returned ‘Gays and the future of the Church’ to New College.
I funked from darkling bench on the Mound at rush hour.
I coffee.
I bibbled.
I looked at a tiny snake eating a tiny mouse.
I lied.

Inventory:
Flesh: bruised wrist, stained palms, scabbed shin.
Not-Flesh: montage as masochism? Consider.

Shtiufft.

~ Imperial echoes: Ventriloquism, polyphony and disembodied voices in the early American novel.
~ Medieval authorial anxiety and the oral tradition.
~ 19th century nannies (Jane Eyre, The Turn of the Screw, Vanity Fair).
~ Turkish Delights: sexuality and the Ottoman Other [1299-1573].
~ Puns:chords.
~ Nabakov, lesbians, myth.

If I was Scottish I would apply for a Carnegie summer research scholarship in one of these areas. It'd be magic.

Discompost.

As I lay decomposing...


I like dead things*.
I think I ought to like dying things (I don't**).
But decay is the favourite; it's a process.

* Best dead things, in order of fascination:
A dead mole in the garden.
A dead leopard on safari (me).
The dead bits at the surgeons' hall pathology museum.

** Least good dying things, in order of aversion:
Screaming rabbits.
People.

Grindhouse Romantic Irony.

Scratched reels and double-fluffed lines, I hadn’t noticed it (Romantic Irony) there (In films) before.

Draw attention to limitations of medium:
1. Bash against them [floozy facecrumple on dashboard]
2. Bash through them [mooch from motorcrush]
* (tense-shouldered brackets for apologetic metaphors - fickle disinterest in figurative bad-taste, right?)