I have survived another festive season and lived to tell the tale. Was mightily amused by so many people's shock-horror response to the fact that instead of Merry Christmas all over the place we now have Happy Holidays and Festive Greetings. They are feeling marginalised and unholy. They should be glad, instead, that the Silent Night version of Christmas is thus unhooked from commerce's global Santa Baby version.
Made New Year resolutions: Stop smoking, drink only 1 glass of wine per day, stop complaining. Stupid to make those kinds of resolutions anyhow. Scratch resolutions.
Revised resolution: listen to classical music properly. With headphones on. Stop insulting genius by turning it into background music. Buy proper CDs, and not compilations. Get to properly know at least three composers deeply this year. As opposed to sticking the compilation CD in the tray and thinking, well this is so nice, but never knowing what it is. I got a Grieg CD, and was amazed to find that I know all this music, I just didn't know it was him. That is terrible. Soundproof room if necessary, to block out ever-pervasive Greenday/nirvana/system-of-a-down/etc which is downside of having fifteen and seventeen-year-old kids and all their strange friends in house. Is this music good for them? I know, I know, if it's too loud you're too old but it's the content that bothers me more. Oh really? So Nine Inch Nails and White Zombie et al was all peace love and flowers back then or what? Resolution addendum: remember that you also listened to stuff that freaked people out and had them convinced you were turning into a sociopath. Resolution addendum addendum: Stop worrying about kids so much, they will be fine. Just hide the NIN and WZ where kids can't find them so can't copy them secretly. Mental Note: Secretly borrow Nirvana etc when kids are out, and copy.
I found this on my fridge:
I
wish
I
could
fly
with
a
little
music
and
go
mad
The magnetic poetry has been there since I can’t remember when – I don’t know how all those small blue words survived, with moving so many times; and small nephews; puppies; careless mops and such. It’s become part of the kitchen scenery, odd little conglomerations of words, which fall off and get slapped back on again to read things like, “friend by dream give dance summer”.
So when I read, “I wish I could fly with a little music and go mad” while getting the milk, I had a little leap of faith because someone has been consciously making poems on the fridge while getting the milk. This makes me happy. Besides, it’s a lovely poem. I get that poem, I really get it. In fact, that’s what led to my revised New Year’s resolution.
A happy belated new year to everyone, let’s see what comes.
Welcome Beeb (sis, is that you?) :-)
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2 comments:
Madness is a minority of one! Essentially that means that you can fly (even from the window of your kitchen); secretly revel in absurd thoughts about existence like Sartre's Antoine Roquentin, while cooking a non-vegatarian dinner; and be free in a determined world without having to attend Sunday services or seminars on 'Intelligent Design' to remind you that you're actually not as free as you thought you were. I would recommend Sergei Rachmaninov & Gustav Mahler for the intermediate and Richard Wagner for the wholly insane!
So, at your recommendation,I went out and spent all the grocery money on Rachmaninov, Mahler and Wagner. I have now gone more completely mad than I have ever been. It's amazing! They have me chained to a stake in the backyard here at the sanatorium now, and it's been a bit of a challenge but I've managed to get an arm out of the straightjacket and gain blog access on the psychiatrist's laptop. I have nailed his ears to his ankles so he won't want it back anytime soon... harr... har.. hehe
:-)
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