I have the flu. It’s an illness with many downsides, but it’s not without its bright spots.
I’m finding that days and days in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, tend to free the mind from its usual constraints. Little gobbets of ideas bubble up like blood to the surface of that lake where Grendel’s Dam and Beowulf had their underwater deathmatch.
Thoughts I have had while ill:
- Badly-written whimsy is as excruciatingly embarrassing and boring as listening to someone else’s dreams. I live in fear of writing it. If I’ve ever foisted any on you…never tell me. Ignorance is bliss.
- I wish I was listening to Posy Simmonds at #Comicsforum 11. I wrote my thesis on her and she’s up there among my biggest influences + inspirations.
- Laurie Anderson is also on that list – I’ve been listening to Big Science again after not doing so for many years.
- It still blows my mind that there’s an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical based on TS Eliot’s poems
- The mug with a protruding dog face that my friends gave me as a joke present is one of the most sinister objects I have ever owned. It reminds me of the slightly obscene monster in Doublemeat Palace that comes out of the old lady’s head. It is nasty and wrong and it is looking at me as I type this.
- Can something be only slightly obscene? I think it’s an either or, when it comes down to it.
- I have never before spent so long looking at my bedroom bookshelves. Why are there a pair of swimming goggles on there?
- People should read more comics. Especially children. I hope the Phoenix Comic does well and spawns a thousand more.