The Sheer Horror.... (Beware, here be spoilers!)

I’m so glad that the book is over now. How compelling it was, how utterly horrifying and how very clever. The book which I am referring to here is American Psycho. A book that I was sure someone of my disposition would never read. Ironically, I never imagined the contents of the novel to be as deeply disturbing as they actually are. I guess, in my younger days, I avoided the book because I thought that the character would be frightening, which he is, but not in a “baddie-monster” way. Well, he is a monster, but he’s a by-product of our society, rather than a monster created out of myth and magic, which in itself is far more unsettling.

'Nay, come, let's go together...'

Hamlet, as I mentioned in my last post, is a play that I hold quite dear to my heart, as do many people. It made an impression on me, as it has done with many people. The play has a sort of universal appeal, and this time around I wondered whether I would gain anything new from the retelling of it, which was one of the reasons why I was looking forwards to seeing it again. I was also curious to see whether Northern Broadsides would weave their usual charm and cause my friends (many of whom were unfamiliar with the story) to truly engage with the play. I was very pleased to be proved right on both points, that Northern Broadsides would breathe life into their interpretation of this classic text, and that I would draw new inferences from the experience.

We're off to the Theatre...

I am very much looking forwards to seeing Northern Broadsides’ production of Hamlet in April, for a number of reasons.
One being, I love the play very much, it’s probably one of my favourite Shakespeare plays, but I’ll come back to this…
Another being, I’m going with a group of my friends. Which in itself is somewhat shocking. My friends and I do many, many fun and interesting things together, but going to the theatre is not usually one of them! Perhaps this is a sign of our collective growing maturity? Perhaps we are becoming more cultured and intellectual? Or perhaps it’s because our internal organs are crying out for a rest from the normal debauchery that surrounds our gatherings! In actuality, it is because we’re always up for trying something new, and it took me far too long to realise that I should take advantage of having access to such a cool resource! But then, I’ve always been a little slow on the uptake …

Faith in the Dude and Belief in the Geek: The Church of Us

So Faith, in its very essence, is the adamant belief in something with no evidence to support it. The most purported explanation of the concept being that if you need proof to believe in it, you cannot have it. What an amazing stipulation to conceive of, it will always undermine sceptics, as it is frankly an inarguable point. If you question Faith you don’t have it and to not question it is to have it. I’m thinking of this in terms of Religious Faith, but of course Faith is not a narrow concept.

Sunny Day

As the sun beat down on the back of her neck, Anne gradually eased herself back into a squatting position rather than the down on all fours pose that she had adopted in order to get closer to the roots of the weeds. As she did so she felt the muted stiffness signalling in the lower left hand part of her back. The old war wound playing up. It was always there, of course, and she had acknowledged that as the years had passed the vague pain had risen in volume slightly, but it was still only really background noise. She smiled and wondered how long that would remain the case. Hopefully a while longer, as her youngest still required picking up and comforting and as the girl was now three that was no longer a small weight. Her eldest sometimes asked to be carried and lugged about too, but at seven, her mother felt that she no longer had it in her. The girl was at least two thirds of her height now. Nope, that was a job for her father.

Pain is what does it

Pain is what does it, I feel. Pain or growth through pain, that’s what develops it. Maybe there is a tipping point of the scale, when too much pain, too much loss, too much fear, starts to rip at a person’s sanity and leave them as shadows, ghosts. But for the most part, pain drives it out of us. The ‘it’ I am referring to here, is Beauty. Which may seem a bit odd, but it is something I have thought for a long time now.

ill

I think the worst thing about being this ill really is, probably, when all is said and done, the Daytime Television. If you’re in constant pain, not sleeping, barely eating, and generally feeling worse than a corpse (Yes I do mean worse than a corpse, there is a point of illness where you begin to feel that at least as a corpse you would get some rest) there are not many avenues of activity open to you. To be at work would double the pain, because every second there increases your self pity. Whys should you be tapping away on a keyboard when you barely have the physical strength to wipe your own arse? Catching up on housework? Well in the spells of okay-ness this is something I do try. But menial tasks are ten times more complex and disappointing as your brain is so focused on the cause of your pain that you find the parts of the mind that usually control motor function and logical thought are temporarily lobotomised. I glared angrily at the kettle for twenty minutes earlier as I had forgotten what its main function was!