Looking back it's so bizarre

A period of reflection. How did I go from writing 58 posts in 2010 to a mere 8 in 2012? 2013 was worse, with only 7. Did I really have so little to say?

Fatherhood, or becoming a parent, or whatever it is that happened, has of course been a major factor. On the one hand having children gives you loads more experiences. On the other hand, many of the experiences are deeply banal (J was sick the last two nights running. We think it might be a reaction to chocolate. Or the cold he has. We are both knackered) or private. Or both. You don't want to know about my feet, and I don't want to share it.

[It's a constant battle between the cats and foxes in our neighbourhood  right now. The poor cat with a bell round its neck is at a huge disadvantage]

On blogging, it doesn't help that I only feel my creative juices flowing when I've drunk something, and I then lose the energy about two paragraphs in. Plus blogging about blogging (or lack thereof) is pretty thin gruel.

I deleted my Facebook account. I don't have Twitter. No one emails me anymore. You can't have an emotionally satisfying exchange via WhatsApp (though it turns out you can't organize a camping trip via a blog). This is all I have. This is my outlet. I'd better use it.

Happiness

In The Doric Arch (not quite the pub it was when it was The Head of Steam - no bar billiards) with Elaine and, until a moment ago, Robin and Victoria.

Castle Rock Harvest Pale. Yum.

New motto

Du mußt Amboß oder Hammer sein.

I tend to Orwell's interpretation.

Pulling a face

I don't think there are words to describe the face Kate pulls when she turns on the radio, it's 6Music "The Freak Zone" and the 'song' playing at that particular moment in time is something by Jethro Tull. From their "English folk" inspired period.

and the good news

The nuclear war didn't happen.

Which was nice.

In Vino whatever

Did I ever tell you that Neil Foster once visited my school? Heck, the Ashes started around 44 hours ago, and I'm drunk. The combination triggers recollections like that. I've no idea how Sartre came up with A l rechereche de temps perdu. The French hate cricket. And being drunk.

One of my readers has died. It's too painful to write about it, really. I could make some wisecrack about how I need all the subscribers I can get, but I really don't. What hurts is that someone I thought was really funny, insightful, full of love, righteous anger and most of all love, has died. And he was young than me. And it isn't fair. But then, explain fair to someone in Yemen. 

I'm enjoying, in a bleak way, the Irish realising that for the first time for 800 years, the boot on on the other foot. So they are sticking it to us. As a Civil Servant all I can say is, this is creating more jobs for Civil Servants. True, everyone else is getting screwed, but there's never been a time when individuals with such a modest record of achievement could get promoted within my organisation. So there's always a bright side to things.

I have no idea why, but I'm listening to a lot early 90s industrial and big beat/techno/house/suburban plum-and-suitcase. Utah Saints, 808 State, Orbital etc.

That is all.

Jux

On the downside, it appears we are heading to imminent nuclear war. But the good news is that we are off to LEGOLAND, staying in the Castle Hotel, where we will receive a special complimentary brick.

I find the juxtaposition between the death of millions and rampant consumerism darkly amusing. Very darkly, mind you. Like Conrad, but funny.