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 |   Maybe meandering, possibly peripatetic and indisputably irregular. |
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So here it is.. a blog. Repository of some of my present musings and interests. Sometimes things pop into my head that should probably stay there - it is possible I shall share at least some of them here. (Naturally I shall filter out the ones about my sordid obsession with the culinary dark arts, one has to protect the innocent!) Please feel free not to take this too seriously, much of it could wind up being snippets of things that amuse me. Yesterday I came up with this: Few politicians can be considered first class, but not a few are number twos. What can I do with it? Nothing springs to mind, except perhaps blog it. Perhaps in some other life I'm a failed stand-up comedian. I have the beginnings of an idea to introduce another player into the Mr Moonlight story, a nice visual has occurred to me, and a summoning gone wrong seems appropriate. When I finish up here I shall literally put pen to paper. I find writing at least initially longhand helps my ideas flow. When I type up what I've written, I give it a first revision at the same time, and as a bare minimum check my spellings and grammar . I do want to keep tabs on my current reading here. I usually have several books on the go at the same time. Currently I am working through 'Pyramids' by Terry Pratchett. I reread Pratchett's books over and over - usually at work where they provide much needed amusement whilst I eat breakfast. 'The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle', by Stuart Turton was loaned to me by a friend who shares a love of murder mysteries, (especially Agatha Christie's works). It is a new take on the genre and very very clever. The protagonist occupies different bodies - a selection of the guests at the house where Evelyn is murdered. Each day he spends in a different guest, and he has been tasked with discovering the murderer - or maybe saving Evelyn from actually being murdered, it is hard to tell. The book twists and turns and is quite intriguing. 'New Science - Principles of the new science concerning the common nature of nations' is an English translation by David Marsh of 'La Scienza Nuova' by Giambattista Vico, published in 1725. Not far into this yet, I had to find a copy of the frontispiece online, as it wasn't included in the Kindle edition. The first part of the book explains the idea - and uses a detailed description of the frontispiece to convey this. So being without it would have made things somewhat harder. 'The Complete Works of Michael De Montaigne' is again a translation, this time by Donald M. Frame. Montaigne's Essays are famous, I kept reading about them, so treated myself to a nice hardbound copy to dip into - usually just before bedtime. So there we have it - a blog entry - enjoy! (whispers almost inaudibly 'Bon Appétit). |
| Prompt 5 - Andre often listens to one song over and over again - What Song, and why? Andre The Blog Monkey has eclectic, some might even say exotic tastes in music, but there is one song that he listens too often, never tiring of it. That song is Donna Summer's 'I Feel Love'. He is especially partial to the 12" version. For those of you who have only ever heard of MP3's, a 12" record lasts about 12", hence the name. Though he would never admit it publicly, Andre is a bit of a softy at heart, and when he listens to the soaring lyrics, and funky synth sounds, he still gets goose-bumps. Naturally, the question occurs, "Why does he love to love that song?" The answer is entirely predictable, Andre first heard it played when he fell in love for the first time. He was being chased by a gang of finger-snappin' swaggering, crab dancing hoodlums, all of them high on Bernstein. Dodging down an alley, he realised that he'd run into a dead end. Quickly he tried the nearest door, and it opened into a whole new world for the young monkey. Andre had entered a huge warehouse, and it was full, FULL of bananas. Our monkey hero stood flabbergasted, drinking in the sight, and that smell. His saliva glands went into full on Pavlovian reflex, creating a small pool beneath him. Over the tinny tannoy he heard Donna Summer. "Oooh! I feel love, I feel love, I feel lovvvvvveeee..." And so he did. As Andre stepped forwards into this fabulous ripe fruit repository, the gang chasing him came charging in behind him. The first of them slipped in the pool of monkey drool, and crashed to the ground, with the rest of his men piling up on top of him like a Keystone Cop reunion party. The foreman, came over to see what all the hullabaloo was about, and seeing him approach, the gang skedaddled. Only Andre remained. The foreman took one look at the glazed eyes and ga-ga expression and said, "Hey Kid do you wanna job?" Did he ever, within five years Andre was manager, and the year after that he bought the original owners out. From that day to this Andre only has to hear the opening strains of "I Feel Love", and he is instantly sent back in time, to that first day, the first time, his first love. Word Count: 389 |
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). I mostly reject that. I'm eating rice with an egg this morning but Pannya just brought me chocolate milk from 7/11 (bless him; I really don't need it).
