IWANT to get out of here. IWANT to go to the moon or some other planet. IWANT to find some unicorn DNA and then grow a bunch of them and teach them to impale Claire’s friends with their horns.
from Dave Eggers' excellent short story, Max at Sea, in this week's New Yorker magazine.
I think unicorn DNA is the best revenge fantasy I've heard for a while!
I love autumn. A slight drop in the temperature, and a little bit of damp in the air, and I feel more creative, want to work, want to write, want to produce.
I was never that sure about destruction; right from the moment I first took an engine to pieces, dismantled every cog and nut, and then I realised that what I really wanted to do was put it all together and make it work.
Punk was very good at encouraging me to destroy things, and I suppose in my twenties I learned a lot about finishing things off and Moving On, and what good things you can do with anger, if you learn how. It was very wise of the Hindu religion to have a mother goddess who was also the goddess of destruction. But I never really learned to embrace destruction; it just seemed... well, too destructive.
I'm an innovation consultant now, and one of the Big Names in innovation is an economist called Josef Schumpeter, and he wrote about "waves of creative destruction" - a marvellous idea, that as part of making the world anew, there were all kinds of things that needed to be destroyed, and swept up and tidied away, because they had their day and served their purpose, and it was good that they make room for something new.
It reminds me of a story of a Budhhist monk who always drank out of a very nice cup; one day somebody said to him: "you're not supposed to get attached to possessions. Does it not bother you that one day that cup is going to break?" And the monk said: "I know that really, it's already been broken, so I just make sure that I enjoy it as much as I can."
This is my company song, and every morning, I want to come into my office and get the whole team to sing it.
When you stop worrying about whether something in your life might get broken, maybe that's the time to destroy it, and make room for something else.
I'm searching for inspiration. Writing the methodology chapter of my PhD thesis, which feels as dry as dust, and I don't want it to be, because it's an interesting topic, it's just that the conventions of academic writing mean I'm not allowed to perform it like stand up comedy, or perform it like a dialogue.
I don't even know if I'm allowed to say the word "I". So meh and fiddlesticks. A decision was taken to explore, yada yada
I am going to sink into a deep bath of warm, bubbly water, and play Jeff Buckley very loudly. Fuck you, world of dust-covered library shelves. I shall be interesting!
I have a folder of music on my hard drive called "Play Once Then Kill" In it are all the MP3's I've downloaded and never listened to. How the hell did I miss this one? I downloaded it on the 25th August 2006 and it has been sitting there until this morning, confident and patiently waiting.
Black Box Recorder was the band that Luke Haines set up after he left The Auteurs, and The Auteurs pretty much defined my early-nineties sexual persona. But this song is like catching sight of your face in the bathroom mirror on a very cold winter's morning, and remembering what you were dreaming about.
If you don't like the song, fast forward the video and just watch the last ten seconds; it's a killer. It's a true story.
When boys are just eleven They begin to grow in height At a faster rate than they have done before They develop curiosity And start to fantasize About the things they have Never thought of doing before These dreams are no more harmful than The usual thoughts that boys have Of becoming football stars or millionaires As long as the distinction Between fantasy and fiction remains It's just a nature walk It's just the facts of life BLACK BOX RECORDER
Lately I've developed a real crush on Don Draper. I know. Strange, isn't it? I watched about half of series one, got hooked on series two, and bought myself series one on DVD for my birthday. Which I keep watching over and over.
The world of Mad Men is somehow contemporary, but just historical enough that I don't feel contempt for people who are superficial and glamorous. I have photographs of my parents and relatives in 1960's suits and dresses, and I can remember flicking through ancient Reader's Digest magazines full of adverts like Sterling Cooper make. (Did anybody else have a Reader's Digest childhood? There was always an article 'I Am John's Scrotum' or something.)
I'm fascinated by Don Draper's character. He reminds me of my father in my parents' wedding photographs. He's confident, and successful, and he's vulnerable. I like reading all the contradictions and nuances of the man, which I never could do with my real dad.
You can see that he has emotions, because he has brilliant ideas at work that come from the empathy he has for people. And Don likes women; he feels comfortable around women in a way that the other men don't (especially not the odious Pete Campbell).
My father used to talk about his childhood. It wasn't a happy childhood, and his stories used to scare the hell out of me. We don't hear Don Draper talking about his childhood, but we see the flashbacks.
I remember a scene from the end of Series Two when Don gets his tarot cards read, and the woman he's with (I think she might be the original Mrs Don Draper) tells him that the cards say he's connected to all the living things in the world.
"The only thing keeping you from being happy is the belief that you are alone."
That was a good statement for me. I wonder if it would have meant something to my father, as well?
A work of art (allegedly) photographed in King's Cross.
I've been wondering what 'fake hookers' are. Do they have sex with you, then pretend to take money? Or do they take your money, and then pretend to have sex? (I thought that was what real hookers did.)
People in London make their lives very complicated.
King's Cross was, and probably still is, one of the railway termini where young men and women would arrive from the North looking for glamour, wealth and fame. A lot of them would be recruited into being prostitutes and rent boys. The manager of Tottenham Hotspur was arrested kerb crawling for hookers at King's Cross. So was one of Brother Beyond.
Two months after this record came out, there was a huge fire at King's Cross tube station. About 30 people died. It was quite eerie listening to the song after that. The film is by Derek Jarman.
The man at the back of the queue was sent To feel the smack of firm government Linger by the flyposter, for a fight It's the same story every night I've been hurt and we've been had You leave home, and you don't go back
Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way Read it in a book or write it in a letter Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee
Only last night I found myself lost By the station called King's Cross Dead and wounded on either side You know it's only a matter of time I've been good and I've been bad I've been guilty of hanging around
Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way Read it in a book or write it in a letter Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee
So I went looking out today For the one who got away Murder walking round the block Ending up in King's Cross Good luck, bad luck waiting in a line It takes more than the matter of time
Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way Read it in a book or write it in a letter Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee
Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way Read it in a book or write it in a letter Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee And there's still no guarantee There is still no guarantee Words and Music by NEIL TENNANT and CHRIS LOWE
If you watched Kirsty Wark interview the founder of Twitter on Newsnight last night, you wouldn't have thought she made her name by ripping apart Margaret Thatcher in an interview, long, long ago in a galaxy far too close to home, when Mrs Thatcher needed to be given a bit of the sort of treatment she gave to almost everybody else.
The mature, discerning Kirsty Wark turns out to be obsessed with celebrities, and she wanted to know how we can be sure Demi Moore is real (a query that has to be on a par with wanting to know Father Christmas' blood group, although it could have been "ironic", in inverted commas. )
The experience left me craving the simple, innocent despair of my youth. Here is a video from The The, a band who will soon be forgotten, because you can't search for them on the Internet.
I like the way he takes the old blues line, "I woke up this morning" and completely negates it, and sings to a woman who looks like a miserable Emma Thompson. (The sort doctors prefer.) Even the presence of accordions cannot make this song cheerful. But I have to say, it made me feel much better in the dark.
Well, you didn't wake up this morning Because you didn't go to bed You were watching the whites of your eyes turn red The calendar on your wall is ticking the days off You've been reading some old letters You smile and think how much you've changed All the money in the world couldn't buy back those days
You pull back your curtains And the sun burns into your eyes You watch a plane flying Across a clear blue sky This is the day Your life will surely change This is the day When things fall into place
You could've done anything If you'd wanted And all your friends and family think that you're lucky But the side of you they'll never see Is when you're left alone with the memories That hold your life together ... like glue
You pull back your curtains And the sun burns into your eyes You watch a plane flying Across a clear blue sky This is the day Your life will surely change This is the day When things fall into place
This is the day your life will surely change This is the day your life will surely change This is the day your life will surely change This is the day your life will surely change Words and Music: MATT JOHNSON
I'm an innovation consultant now, and one of the Big Names in innovation is an economist called Josef Schumpeter, and he wrote about "waves of creative destruction" - a marvellous idea, that as part of making the world anew, there were all kinds of things that needed to be destroyed, and swept up and tidied away, because they had their day and served their purpose, and it was good that they make room for something new.
I'm fascinated by Don Draper's character. He reminds me of my father in my parents' wedding photographs. He's confident, and successful, and he's vulnerable. I like reading all the contradictions and nuances of the man, which I never could do with my real dad. 
A work of art (allegedly) photographed in King's Cross.
