So Zen Like I Have Passed Out

I have just heard the most profound, amazing, impactful piece of philosophy from a co-worker that will no doubt lead to the establishment of several new mono & polytheistic religions, a new dawn for man, and possibly, cures for the common cold & a better mousetrap. Here it is...prepare to be awed and change forever:

"I am self sufficient like a vacuum cleaner."

No, I have no idea what it means either...........

Monday on My Mind - Hmmm, Feels like a Headache

To my absolute "delight", the flu that was lurking for several days and never got past a bad chest infection, thanks to an O/D of Zinc Complex tablets (not sure where all the simple, stupid zinc goes - vitamin boot camp perhaps? - but certainly not into the depths of my immune system where it would no doubt have had to ask for directions to my lymph glands while I got sicker) , cleared up last night, thus denying me the chance to legitimately stay at home sick! Not that I like being sick, nor taking days off sick - I have an amazingly resilient immune system which is no doubt thanks to not using the village idiots of vitamins above - but having a Monday off, which is the pond scum of days (no offense to any lovers of pond scum who may be reading the blog) , is an attractive thought. Of course, coming back to a Tuesday with all Monday's workload waiting like a rotting piece of roadkill in Summer heat (evocative enough for ya?!) is not attractive and so here I am, disgustingly healthy, and up to my neck in work, both real and cyber.....

I did get to go on an 'excursion' on Friday - going on an excursion these days is a much easier process now I don't need to get my mother to sign permission forms :) - to visit one of my main high revenue customers, Aussiebum, home to sexy swimwear and jocks for men. They work in this funky cool warehouse office, complete with trendy kitchen, TV etc - kinda like I expect some of those dotcom offices looked back in the days of boom - and while they expect the very best (which is fair enough given the money they spend with us), they are a very easy bunch of people to get along with, including the lovely Amy, who I deal with the most. Bonus was escaping the Beige Tomb (my beloved monochrome cubicle) for a couple of hours.....

Only 2 hours to go and paid work is over....then its home to switch on my home PC, and finally finish Chapter 12 of the novel which is half done and has been for the better part of a week. It required extensive re-writes and that has been time-consuming, but I also kind of 'fell off the novel re-writing wagon' and aim to clamber back on tonight before the horses pulling said wagon - and previously kicking on with steroidal speed - reverse over me (hoof marks do nothing for my complexion I can tell you now). I may even start Chapter 13 assuming my brain doesn't shut down, forget it knows the English language, grammar and syntax (in other words holiday/weekend mode), and demand to watch the latest episode of '24', which of course has nothing at all to do with my novel......I will, of course, find a way to justify viewing it but given that the need to rationalise my behaviour is not yet upon me, my rationale will have to wait for a future post.....for now, its Chapter 12 & 13 away! Ole! (See - my grasp of English is slipping already...now where is the TV remote again?!)

WAITING FOR CREATIVE INSPIRATION & FOR POND SCUM TO FORM HAVE MUCH IN COMMON

Well its been a while since my last post, and that is pretty much solely due to the novel, which is consuming great chunks of my day after work, and a lot of time otherwise, as my brain constantly tries to sort out narrative roadblocks, character dead ends etc. I would love to say I am overflowing with the joy of creative endeavour, but in reality, fun though it is to revisit the characters I now view as real beings and play God with their lives, a lot of my time is being spent getting the novel to a point where a publisher will welcome me with open arms, ply me with champagne and all expense paid trips to Paris in the Springtime, and make me the toast of literary scenes worldwide. Realistically, I will be happy if the publisher simply goes to the trouble to at least read the manuscript, and colour coordinate the rejection slip and envelope....then they can fly me to Paris to read the rejection slip. Yes, I will graciously let them salve their guilt at rejecting my fantasy epic by flying me somewhere to get over it.......now back in the real world - which I try to avoid inhabiting for too long given the poor food, boring job, and right wing politicians - I have just re-dne Chapter 11 and I only have 8 chapters to go and the epilogue so I am within sight of the end.....

Well, at least as it stands at the moment. I have been told that 90% of the work on the novel occurs after you get published, which is mildly frightening considering what it is requiring now. I guess the thing is at this point to concentrate on one step at a time - "baby steps, baby steps" - and hold on to what's left of my sanity as I do it. The big plus in all of this is that I get to use my brain to do things other than apologise to customers who believe God has bequeathed them the honour of occupying the centre of the universe - yep, sorry Galileo but the spot you thought was occupied by the Sun is actually home to Bill Smith of Steamrollovereveryone and Then BBQ Them Inc, and his charming Hitlerite secretary, Barbie Tiffany Biatch - and compose emails that outline the same thing I have just told the last 5000 customers. I am not entirely sure which side of the brain is the creative one, but these rewrites are its moment in the cerebral sun, as it finally elbows out all the useless work junk, and sprints off the bench, hopefully propelling me to the joy of creative fulfillment....oh, and a trip to Paris if it can manage it......

!POP! KORN

Immersing myself once again in the often shallow, and occasionally deep and thought-provoking waters of the prevailing zeitgeist, here are the latest media drugs to shoot up my sensory veins:

MOVIE

'War of the Worlds'

A week before seeing the latest masterpiece from Steven Spielberg, I was expecting another shoot-em-up-grab-a-dog-to-protect-you-from-mortal-danger-alien-invasion movie where the human race triumphs on or near July 4. This is naturally the only date around which you would lay waste to Planet Earth if you were an alien since you know from reading our books, and seeing our movies that your alien race will be defeated by water/computer viruses/budgies on acid quite quickly, and that the human race will emerge victorious, and needs an important symbolic date around which to stage a day of delerious celebration victory that totally ignores the fact that the world's economy/food supply/output of books and DVDs is terminally screwed.

Then the reviews started pouring in and I began to suspect that maybe, just maybe, this epic blockbuster may just have a brain (and a heart and a soul), a rarity indeed in the cinematic monsters that bestride Hollywood in the US Summer. It was said that Spielberg had imbued the classic story by H G Wells, which was initially written as a warning of the dangers of untrammelled imperialism, specifically that of the British Empire, with echoes of the Holocaust. It is only when you see this most atypical of alien invasion blockbusters that you realise that Spielberg has captured all the horrors of genocide in so horrifying a fashion that this movie sends chills down your soul as you witness the almost wholesale destruction of the human race by the imperialiastic Martians, who do not see people but rather inferior nothings standing in the way of commodity acquisition. Previous alien invasion epics like "Independence Day" are almost cartoonish by comparison - yes, cities are destroyed and humanity is in peril, but you do not get a sense of real doom and dread, and the very real flesh-crawling, heart-sickening horror that unfolds in "WOW" (yes they deleted the 'the' to appease the gods of marketing!) is nowhere near as clearly in evidence in "ID4", if it is there at all. I was asked if I had enjoyed the movie and I hesitated to answer, not because I didn't like it; on the contrary I was powerfully drawn into an amazing movie that dares to wear its social critique very much on its sleeve, but because I don't think its the kind of movie you do 'enjoy'. It is hard to enjoy watching a woman being vaporised as she runs for her life, her face frozen in terror; to grab handfuls of popcorn when people are tossed from the tripods onto the ground, only to have their blood sucked from them, and used as macabre fertiliser. BUT what the movie does do is make you think and realise that you can the heartpounding action and thrills of a big epic, and not leave your brain at the door.

So thank you Steven Spielberg for this masterful piece of cinema, that even though it veers into a great big field of corny sentiment at the end (all the world is destroyed but the one nieghbourhood in Boston where Tom's family is), still manages to tell a brilliantly engaging story while making us realise that we can never rest on our humanitarian laurels while even one person is in peril.

MUSIC

'The Alternative to Love' - Brendan Benson



Bright breezy pop with more contagious melodies than you poke a musical prodigy at, and with more than a passing nod to the 70s, this is the sort of CD that makes you glad to be alive (listening to it with chocolate and a glass of Shiraz also helps)! As an added bonus, Brendan's third CD is replete with very cool lyrics that explore the meaning of life, love and relationships in a way that isn't too precious, engages the soul and mind, and allows for the fact that life isn't always a happy skip in the park with sunshine, candy and bright flowers all around. In other words, he writes about life with the frankness of someone who just accepts that this is how it is, and wraps it all up in music so contagious you can help but singalong. Which I do...with the windows shut...and the doors locked.....no sense upsetting the neighbours.....