I’m sitting here desperately trying to remember something. It’s an awful state of affairs. Last night, as I lay in bed watching telly, I was writing some notes about the FFF Atlas: jokes about specific nations, scribbles of possible illustrations, etc. After I’d switched off the light, I though of something else, something BIG. So big in fact, that I didn’t bother to reach for my notebook, thinking instead: of course I’ll remember that.
Several hours of sleep later and I’m dressed and taking Billy for his morning walk. The same idea pops into my head again. Aaaah, that’s a good one, I think to myself as I drag Billy away from a huge pile of another dog’s poo.
We return home, I give Billy his breakfast, I even sweep the floor in my office, then switch on my computer: what was that idea again? The one about the music thing you wanted to put online? No. The one about drawing yourself in a pith helmet holding a dead tiger? No. Damn! damn! damn! damn! fuck and damn!
I know that at some point today the idea will eventually come back, but right now my brain won’t let me rest. So I’ll take my mind off it by going through some stuff I’ve been meaning to write about for the last few days:
I recently watched Guerrilla, a documentary about the Symbionese Liberation Army and the Patty Hearst kidnapping. It’s a good film if you’re into that kinda thing. All seems quite dodgy to me, though, how she managed to get out of jail so quickly and (eventually) receive a full pardon from President Clinton. I wonder if that would’ve been the case were she not the daughter of an exceedingly rich and influential family…
Last night, going through some links I’d bookmarked and not bothered to look at, I found this one on WFMU’s wonderful blog: the magnificent machines of Arthur Ganson. I could watch his machines for hours, especially this one.
If you like Pink Floyd (and especially if, like me, you adore David Gilmour’s voice and guitar playing), you’ll probably enjoy his new solo album, On An Island. Quite frankly, I can’t get enough of it at the moment. I love it to bits. Of course, it has its muso old-men-a-jammin’ moments, but on the whole it’s a belter that, at times, sounds like bits of Meddle and Wish You Were Here. Any album that has a lyric about feeding bread to swan can’t be bad, can it? What with it being 2006, there’s a David Gilmour video podcast, so you can see if you’ll be as enthusiastic as I am or whether you’ll begin to think I like listening to your dad’s music.
And, finally, I’m sure there was a collective sigh of relief in Washington last night as Japan beat Cuba 10-6 at PETCO Park, San Diego in the World Baseball Classic final. How galling it would have been to not only see the USA team knocked out in the 2nd round, but to see Cuba win the thing on American soil; especially after the Bush administration had denied Cuba a licence to play on US soil. Not until the people who govern baseball threatened to withdraw their sanctioning of the tournament did the government capitulate. But, Cuba didn’t win. Neither did the USA: now they know how England fans feel every time they don’t win the World Cup.
Still can’t remember my idea… I wonder if I’ve got Alzheimer’s…