Archive for 2007

One minute passed at one minute past

Where does all the time go? Sixty seconds have already happened, lost back there some­where, and I’ve barely begun. Damn this cease­less, onward march. I know, I know it all very well, via more years of exper­i­ence than I wish to cata­logue right here and right now, since we’ve only got a few minutes left. […]

Footprints in Snow

Caught, trapped, wrapped and wool­len bound in a com­plete whiteout, a winter won­der­land of sorts, with my fin­gers little more than a faded mono­chrome mere mil­li­metres from my face. I can almost believe that noth­ing else exists — that noth­ing else ever exis­ted — bey­ond my pro­tect­ive wall of rust­ing wire. The ever-buzzing hive, the thriving […]

The World’s Worst Eskimo

The World’s Worst Eskimo was sit­ting in my living-room, sip­ping from a mug of cocoa clasped between her trem­bling, frozen hands. The chat­ter­ing of her teeth quite drowned out the reas­sur­ingly dull drone of the passing traffic, five floors below, as it headed for the con­sumer­ist bright lights and a fren­zied bout of last gasp […]

Unsent letter #8

Dear You, Give or take a day or two, and more or less half a memory away, it struck me this after­noon, like a force­ful blow to the back of the neck from a malevol­ent spirit, that it has been a full year since this still regret­tably one-sided cor­res­pond­ence began. Such thoughts fre­quently occur to me […]

Dancing about architecture

Here begins an urban fairytale. Stay­ing in is the new going out. It’s the new black. It’s what everyone’s wear­ing this sea­son. I don’t get out much, as a rule. Out is over­rated. Too much of a much­ness. I prefer stay­ing in, care­fully tend­ing to small out­crops of dead skin cells as if they were […]

Work and non-work

It is going to be a long day. A very long day indeed. As I sit here, men­tally steel­ing myself for a five-hour ‘busi­ness event’ that is surely going to be the 21st cen­tury equi­val­ent of one of Leni Riefenstahl’s films of a Nazi rally — only slightly less enjoy­able, and with none of the […]

Skin-written

I can­not con­trol my skin, so I etch on it for tem­por­ary relief. Scratch out the fever­ish, black-bloodied let­ters onto the milky white. I should get out more, or else fade into so much grey­ing and decay­ing and gone, finely dus­ted. The nib bumps over the dry, flaky sur­face. Don’t scratch, don’t itch, don’t retch, […]

A brief history of timekeeping

“At the third stroke, it will be one thir­teen and thirty seconds. Beep beep beep.” I should sleep. I should be asleep. I remem­ber the exact — or should that be the pre­cise? — details of where and when my rela­tion­ship with the Speak­ing Clock began. Of course I do. It hardly requires the sci­entific skills […]

Scorched earth policy

Can you? Can you hear? Is this work­ing? Thing on? Is this on? Is this thing on? Tap tap tap. No sound, noth­ing. Good. Click track and rewind. Press but­ton and rewind. Start again. Start over. Start start start and startle me. Start again. Start over. Over already, before we begin. Start. Shall we start? […]

Unsent letter #7

Dear You, First, a pre­amble. If you prefer, you may ignore this part and skip straight to the meat of the mat­ter, since I know all too well how you quickly tire of my char­ac­ter­istic verb­os­ity. I am becom­ing a creature of habit, I see that now. I should stop writ­ing to you, I see […]

Minutiae v1.0

The fol­low­ing is almost cer­tain to prove a dis­astrous exper­i­ment in ‘blog­ging’ (whatever that is) the inane details of my every­day life, but appar­ently it’s what we are sup­posed to do under the rules of inter­na­tional law. This exer­cise in tedium will con­tinue through­out today. Or until I get utterly bored. Or until I lose […]

Sex sells, but it doesn’t spell

As an emin­ent blog­ging type per­son who is on the A-list — oh sorry, that should read “on a list” — I often receive emails from com­pan­ies wish­ing to take advant­age of some of the passing trade that might be provided by you, my huge ret­inue of ardent, swoon­ing and no doubt excep­tion­ally moist readers. […]

Wrong number #2

“For­give me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been thirty-six years, three months and nine­teen days since my last con­fes­sion. Yes, sorry about that. All I remem­ber is a dark tun­nel, a sud­den blind­ing light, and then a smack on the arse fol­lowed by a lot of cry­ing and howl­ing, and after that everything […]

You know you’re getting old when …

This is hope­fully going to be a very short-lived series — of one — mainly because I will soon be too old and decrepit to write lists, due to my senile mind fail­ing before the second item. You know you’re get­ting old when you go to a hip ‘n’ hap­penin’ rock gig (oh God, I […]

Wake Up

“Haven’t we met before, under brighter skies above?” It was noth­ing more than a nod of accept­ance, a vague echo of under­stand­ing and a limp, nervous hand­shake, yet the sub-text of a single ques­tion would echo on for days. A memory some­how came alive, even though it had still to be lived in its entirety […]