bend_sinister

Here's another in the occasional (and long believed cancelled) series in which I pretend that anybody has the slightest interest in my melancholic invective.

Today I finished reading Art Spiegelman's 'Maus' and at one point he quotes to his shrink something Beckett once said: "Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness". Not for the first time it seems to me Mr...
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Morose. Morass. My ass. Miasma.

There's something comforting about being treated with universal indifference; preferable I think. There's no confusion, crossed wires, or ambiguity. You're just alone, and you'll always be that way.

(Somebody ought to write a history of heretical scientists; those colourful characters ostracised by the establishment. People like Andrew Crosse, Tesla, Wilhelm Reich and his orgasm theories, and that guy who wrote...
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There are days I find myself longing for some kind of epiphany; I scrutinise the smallest details for hitherto unseen meanings... secret vocabularies. It seems only logical to assume that there's something I've missed... how else can it be that the vast majority are able to carry on regardless in the face of a meaningless universe? For all my misanthropy I can't help but envy...
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Some day, I going to write a song called 'Entropy and Irony'.

Trivia time: the word 'slapstick' originates with the Punch and Judy show, and in the particular the stick with which Punch knocks about his missus: it was traditionally made out of two flaps of wood which made a 'slapping' noise when struck. Subsequently it was applied to a broader comic tradition.

Miyazaki's new film has just opened in Japan and is apparently an adaption of...
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Interesting fact (with a cursory relevance to this site): In the 13th century the word 'girl' could apply to youths of either gender. To distinguish between them, females were known as 'gays girls' and males 'knave girls'.

'Milky Way' (as in the chocolate) was original known as the 'Fat 'Emma' Bar'. The Emma Bar being a popular confection of the time.

'7-Up' takes its name...
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I don't remember writing being so difficult when I was younger. Admittedly, I never completed anything, but there seemed to be a wealth of ideas; these days finding inspiration is like getting blood from a stone. My mindset seems to become fixed, inflexible - thoughts don't seem to flow. Perhaps its simply the Asperger's.

Having attained a laudible degree of self-discipline only a few weeks...
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How am I today? Like anybody gives a shit.

Did you ever read a book and find the peripheral characters more interesting? Have you revisited childhood haunts late at night and yearned to experience that sense of belonging once again? Do you sometimes feel your heart reach the very heights of euphoria simply by listening to a favourite 3 minute pop song? Have you wondered whether its possible for two people to be experiencing...
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I see nothing to shake me from the view that the world is essentially hostile, the relationships we form worthless, and any meaning we choose to give life is purely arbitrary.

I bet not a single person ever reads this.