Sunday 19 July 2009

Dream: I am at the Latitude festival with my friends and am having a bad time that is coupled with bad weather. I leave early before it ends.

This morning I awaken at 7.15AM. As I check my watch I fear it is earlier so there is some slight relief attached to the hour.

Initially I do/did wake up in pretty high spirits but as the morning continues the reality that the feelings are made up of false optimism hits home and soon I begin to shudder and slump.

All in all it is an hour too early to actually do anything so I proceed to watch the first episode of The Trap by Adam Curtis. It was perhaps a bit too early to be doing this also as the man broaches another worrying subject with great depth and a lengthy spread of information. The research that must go into these documentaries has got to be around the clock, the kind of homework only Satan himself could order. Who in their wildest imaginations would have been able to link the NHS reformation to Robert McNamara via the guy from RAND. The amount of information that Curtis crams into one hour of his documentaries is so dense that the viewer really needs to be on their feet otherwise they will lose the thread. Welcome to my Sunday morning.

My morning continues with some writing (as ever catch up stuff). When I feel I have done enough to warrant a break I watch my Not The Nine O’Clock News DVD that has been hanging around for weeks and immediately find myself witnessing two sketches that it would appear some of my friends have borrowed from heavily in their show. In the end I laugh out loud much more than I was expecting to at the show and find it hard to imagine a time when it would have been shown, its not like anything that is on TV these days. Firstly the faces do not look “television” enough. Secondly the sketches/jokes and their targets hold a degree of fearlessness, which these days might suffer from being snuffed out for fear of legal action or retribution. Obviously the show has dated but in that now fun grim eighties way. Eighties nostalgia is all the rage now.

Unfortunately before the end of the disc I have to admit/concede to falling asleep as some kind of weird fatigue once more kicks in. Later when I awake the day is now well into the afternoon and is well and truly wasting away. I hate Sundays, they are caked in guilt.

Not really up to doing anything more productive today I end up putting on the Richard Herring “Oh Fuck I’m 40” DVD before heading to the olds at Balkerne Heights for Sunday dinner.

When I get to the olds at 3PM it is with the realisation that my hair has been cut too short. I look at my reflection and it is awful, I am turning into one of those people I have always despised.

I arrive to the sight of my parents watching some dumb TV movie about Christmas on one of those god awful free movie channels on Sky. This is such tripe. And then I find myself getting suckered into also. Drug of a nation.

The dog is bouncing today, he is more excitable than ever these days and has more energy than the three of us combined.

Eventually I manage to commandeer the TV and on goes my Walk Hard DVD but it doesn’t really cut it. I still prefer it to Walk The Line though.

In the evening when I get home to Bohemian Grove just after 8PM it is to another amazing summer evening. Inside my apartment all is peaceful and shadowy.

I watch the second episode of The Trap and again struggle to keep up with it and invariably in a comfortable state/frame of mind I fall asleep.

When I reawaken on the verge of turning in for the night I begin watching Big Brother and it is suddenly fascinating stuff, painfully close to experiences I have had in the past as the Irish bird (Noirin) begins to string along two guys at the same time giving Marcus the cold shoulder as a better model in Tom suddenly shows up in the house. You can learn from this.

I try to stay awake for Factotum but after slogging my way through bad TV comedy I eventually end up falling asleep and missing the movie.