Showing posts with label accents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label accents. Show all posts

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Procrastinatin'

I was cataloguing books on Goodreads, a task I allowed myself as a reward for finishing Dreams From My Father. A chance encounter with Spike Milligan on said site reminded me of how much I loved his war memoirs when I discovered them as a young 'un (teen). I mean to read them again, now. Soon praps. (Or not - I have to read according to the rules first). Anyway. I added a new category to account for his description of shellshock in the fourth of the trilogy (and his bi-polarness in general), which I called mental illness. Then I needed to go through all my 'read' books (I know, I know) and mark up the other books with that tag. This proved a problem; is (for example) The Virgin Suicides about mental illness? They all killed themselves - something must have been going wrong in their brains, right? Or what about American Psycho? Does he have an illness? Is sublimation an illness? Or nihilism? What constitutes a mental illness anyway? How about Louis Riel? Is going a bit nuts not a rational response to oppression? And maybe his vision was true, truly from god - who am I to say?

Anyway, the anti-climax here is that I changed the label to the more inclusive and unreconstructed 'madness_mental illness', which allowed me to tag tales involving things like depression and OCD.

This labelling thing is a lark, innit. In the words of Sandra Bernhard, "don't label me: I'm a people person".

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

becarse yr a luddie

For the worst Scottish accents ever recorded on film, see 'Brigadoon' with Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse. But don't go watching it for any other kind of entertainment value. There's not enough dancing to make it bearable. It doesn't even have one great memorable song or dance or scene.

You'll thank me.

Spend that time reading The Slave by Isaac Bashevis Singer. Or Middlesex, that's even better. And less depressing! I am going to read Swann's Way next.

No, really. I am. I'm staring on the bus tomorrow. I figure it will make the time pass more slowly, thus delaying my arrival at the office.

Call me [insert square here] if you want.

(...is my square magic working?)