Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Saturday, November 29, 2008
The most pointless post ever on an almost entirely pointless blog
A chum in a writers' chat room asked, "What can you say in 500 words?" Turns out that the answer is one hundred and seventy and two-fifths.
Allow me to demonstrate:
One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty one twenty two twenty three twenty four twenty five twenty six twenty seven twenty eight twenty nine thirty thirty one thirty two thirty three thirty four thirty five thirty six thirty seven thirty eight thirty nine forty forty one forty two forty three forty four forty five forty six forty seven forty eight forty nine fifty fifty one fifty two fifty three fifty four fifty five fifty six fifty seven fifty eight fifty nine sixty sixty one sixty two sixty three sixty four sixty five sixty six sixty seven sixty eight sixty nine seventy seventy one seventy two seventy three seventy four seventy five seventy six seventy seven seventy eight seventy nine eighty eighty one eighty two eighty three eighty four eighty five eighty six eighty seven eighty eight eighty nine ninety ninety one ninety two ninety three ninety four ninety five ninety six ninety seven ninety eight ninety nine one hundred one hundred and one one hundred and two one hundred and three one hundred and four one hundred and five one hundred and six one hundred and seven one hundred and eight one hundred and nine one hundred and ten one hundred and eleven one hundred and twelve one hundred and thirteen one hundred and fourteen one hundred and fifteen one hundred and sixteen one hundred and seventeen one hundred and eighteen one hundred and nineteen one hundred and twenty one hundred and twenty one one hundred and twenty two one hundred and twenty three one hundred and twenty four one hundred and twenty five one hundred and twenty six one hundred and twenty seven one hundred and twenty eight one hundred and twenty nine one hundred and thirty one hundred and thirty one one hundred and thirty two one hundred and thirty three one hundred and thirty four one hundred and thirty five one hundred and thirty six one hundred and thirty seven one hundred and thirty eight one hundred and thirty nine one hundred and forty one hundred and forty one one hundred and forty two one hundred and forty three one hundred and forty four one hundred and forty five one hundred and forty six one hundred and forty seven one hundred and forty eight one hundred and forty nine one hundred and fifty one hundred and fifty one one hundred and fifty two one hundred and fifty three one hundred and fifty four one hundred and fifty five one hundred and fifty six one hundred and fifty seven one hundred and fifty eight one hundred and fifty nine one hundred and sixty one hundred and sixty one one hundred and sixty two one hundred and sixty three one hundred and sixty four one hundred and sixty five one hundred and sixty six one hundred and sixty seven one hundred and sixty eight one hundred and sixty nine one hundred and seventy one hundred...There you go, five hundred words. Up to and including "one hundred and seventy" is four hundred and ninety eight words, and "one hundred and seventy one" is five hundred and three words. There are five words in the phrase "one hundred and seventy one" so "one hundred" amounts to two-fifths of the phrase.
Therefore, one hundred and seventy and two-fifths in five hundred words.
Does this qualify as the most pointless blog post of all time anywhere?
Saturday, July 19, 2008
I will write about Glasgow soon - promise. In the meantime...
Woke up... scratched arse... lay in bed half-erect wondering if I felt like cracking one off... couldn't be bothered in the end; will probably save it up for a porn-assisted stroke session tonight... eventually got out of bed for a dump and a shower... decided to go to the shop for eggs, chopped tomatoes, olive oil and a new hammer before having breakfast... need hammer to assemble new CD case for cupboard in lounge... put on CD - a bit of Living Colour because I felt like some thrashy funk rock this morning - and thought about what to have for breakfast... got sidetracked into writing this mundane spiel about the minutiae of my everyday life... my stomach is growling impatiently and yet I keep typing this garbage and trying to envisage exactly how dull and mediocre a person would have to be to spend all day engrossed in this pitiful drivel... welcome to the blogosphere.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Random ramblings of a Sunday afternoon
Boy, this blog is dying on its arse, isn't it? I can barely manage one post a week and even then I seldom have anything interesting to say. Ugh. For what it's worth, here are some headlines to tide you over:
Attended an Underworld gig on Thursday night at the Roundhouse in London. All kinds of awesomeness. Despite their latest album, Oblivion With Bells, being a more relaxed and ambient affair than previous records, they still know how to get people's butts movin' on the dance floor. And singer/guitarist Karl Hyde, bless him, is one of the best frontmen in the business. He bounces around the stage with such joyful abandon that you can't help but grin like a fool and cheer like a lunatic. His enthusiasm is not only infectious but also possibly lethal.
Highlights must include Two Months Off into Kittens into Moaner into Born Slippy [NUXX] into Shudder/King Of Snake - I was flippin' knackered once that little mix came to an end; and Rez/Cowgirl/Rez/Cowgirl was bloody brilliant too.
For reasons that are far too convoluted to go into, I seem to be engaged in cyber-sex with a pair of sock puppets
Current cultural artefacts entering my head via various orifices and organs:
- Aram Khachaturian's Gayane ballet suites (Suite No. 3, Gayane's Adagio - used by Kubrick in 2001: A Space Odyssey to introduce the Discovery One on its way to Jupiter - is a sublime piece of music).
- Talking Heads, the early Eno produced stuff: funky, arty, post-punk goodness, yeah!
- Life: A User's Manual by Georges Perec. No, not a self-help book but a wonderful French novel that describes a Parisian block of flats, its occupants, their lives and tales relating to their possessions. Funny, inventive and sad. Highly recommended.
- The TV show Heroes - enjoyable, well-written sci-fi/fantasy although it does sometimes take an awful long time for anything to happen. Addictive stuff nevertheless.
I am also preparing for National Novel Writing Month by trawling the internet for information about bizarre sex fetishes and reading a critical study of the films of Luis Buñuel.
Monday, October 08, 2007
I've completely forgotten what I was going to blog about
I went to Glasgow at the weekend. Nice place, had a great time, thanks. I'm even contemplating moving there. But, no, that wasn't it.
I went to a Bonobo gig last month (Bonobo being a downbeat jazzy trippy-hipperty-hoppity type beat combo - I didn't go and watch a performing chimpanzee although that too would have been cool) That was last month and it is too long after the event to blog about it now. It was a bloody good gig though.
I have somehow ended up in another shitty temp job taking phone calls from people who want their toilets fixed except that this time I am doing it at the university rather than the city council. Dog, no, I don't even want to think about that, never mind write about it.
Just finished reading José Saramago's Blindness, a harrowing tale of how society collapses when everyone inexplicably goes blind. Great book that I heartily recommend (except to readers of a nervous disposition as some passages are genuinely disturbing). That, however, was not what I was going to blog about either.
Nope, it's gone completely. No idea what I was going to write about. Actually, I'm not even sure that I was going to write about anything in particular which may be why I can't remember what it is. Or isn't.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Get that book outta' ma face, bitch.
Well, I did it: I joined bloody Facebook. Simply everyone is doing it, apparently. Actually, I may have jumped on the Facebook bandwagon far too late and it isn't cool any more. Never mind. At least it isn't quite so god-damn fiddly and ugly and Myspace, not quite.
If you happen to be on there then you can find me here.
I had a look around the groups and found one entitled "Bookworms" affiliated with my regional network. The log line reads, "Anyone who njys [sic] reading." Who says the internet and mobile phone culture is destroying literacy?
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Claim to fame
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The Steve Kane comedy spectacular (not)
This blog isn't funny enough. I'm a funny guy so why isn't this blog funnier? I used to write funny stuff, I'm sure I did.
Now would be a really good time to prove how funny I am.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Saturday, December 16, 2006
So many blogs, so little time... I'm interested in the reasons why people read blogs in the first place and what exactly hooks a reader to a particular blog. I'm also intrigued by which blog posts provoke the most comments. On this humble blog, for example, posts about Scorsese's decline* or the Death of Robert Altman return no responses yet I have a whinge and a moan about failing to get a job, failing to get a woman or how generally goddamn grumpy I am and everybody chimes in. Not that I am ungrateful for everybody's encouraging comments on such occasions, of course, but I wonder why the personal posts provoke a response more often than the general ones.
As a rule, I try to avoid writing about the everyday minutiae of my life - "When I came out of the supermarket, my shopping bags got all tangled up in a dog's leash. Oh, what a palaver! And then when I was back at the office the toner ran out halfway through printing an incoming fax so I had to go to the stores cupboard but they had run out of the right kind of cartridge so I have to wait two days for a new batch to arrive and I only have half a fax message..." - and I wince a bit when I look back and see some whinge about past-their-sell-by-date johnnies. The only time I decide to post something personal is when something exceptional happens like being accused of fraud and bullying by paranoid co-workers, situations that could have a wider relevance to people than which brand of toothpaste I prefer.
So, I wonder what it is that makes people respond in greater numbers when I have a good moan than when I talk about some artist or book or filmmaker.
* By the way, I never did get around to reviewing The Departed but I was disappointed by it.