First blog for the day.
Ever sat and looked at an old photo and thought, “that there, that’s not me …”?
Well I looked through some old things recently and found some black and white photos of me that they take outside Home Affairs offices. Quite disturbing actually. Not that I wished I looked different, just that I didn’t think I looked that way then if you know what I mean.
What’s quite dangerous, almost extreme is when one shaves a beard or cuts hair and the photo on the licence starts to resemble someone you’ve never met before.
Try explaining at a roadblock about funky things like cheekbones and eyes as points of reference in fitting a living person to a photo taken years previously.
This morning I listened to some old music that was tops for me back in the days and still haunts me on some cloudless nights. The feeling was not the same and it seems more than ten years have got behind me as I listen now with a defragged ear and a minor form of cynicism.
Rereading a book can be a supreme lesson in evolution and it can also cure one forever of passing books on in hallowed terms that we last read 200 years ago and don’t understand that we have moved on from the hype we built into the poor authors attempts at putting bread on the table.
This blog really shouldn’t be written as it is a rather poor attempt at depicting the bell poised ever present and ready to toll. Living a rather out of the way life without easy access to TV, print media and net I only found out last week about Terry Pratchett.
The darned thing about his books is that I’ve been meaning to read more for years but other shit has gotten in the way and I’ve never quite managed more than one. MORT was the one and I even blogged about it.
According to Wiki he holds the record for the most shoplifted author in Britain.
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Know exactly what you mean D.O.
I use to (also, some 10 years or so ago) seriously rate a book called 'The X Generation'....can't recall the author right now and everyone knows I'm too fuck lazy to google, even if I end up looking like English is my second language....anywho - read a few chapters from it again the other day...sheesh...it's lost all of its insight...or supposed insight...
That music thing...well, some stuff never dates, so to speak - still sounds good years later and can conjure up feelings and memories just as well...but other stuff - eish! man oh man, it don't age so well!
Photo's of oneself...no wrinkles...no worry lines...the good old days I tell ya! Paper bag time...in 4, 3, 2, 1!
I think
The author is Douglas Coupland - his book Microserfs ages better. ("More than ten years have got behind me" - sounds very much like Pink Floyd) I've found that the real classic writers (Dickens, Pagnol, Gabriel García Márquez etc etc etc) don't age for me at all, but maybe that's because they're writing about another time.
Joanne, you found it. The not so subtle clue.
Yeah, listening to Pink Floyd without the vulnerable portals I had years ago leaves a wry grin but having a defragged ear and a minor form of cynicism has its downside. Getting emotional about hearing something new can be a helluva thing to orchestrate never mind maintain for any appreciable length of time.
"a defragged ear
and a minor form of cynicism."
Jeez Dreaded. That's exactly how it is.
When you look back, through the looking glass of time, and see a completely different reflection. Sometimes good, sometimes shocking. But I still think it's good to look back on occassion.
Post that pic.
And what music was it?
D_O
the most shoplifted author? That's a way better accolade than any literary award out there, I think.