Bad, vile and meaningless: Boredom sets in from Alan's clob

Boredom sets in

Without the internet, and your loveful girlfriend, and especially with your parents, there's only so much you can do.

The boredom is because there's so little geniune fact to be shared between us. I long to having a meaningful conversation of some topic I could sustain for longer than 5 minutes. We actually had one such conversation because we were discussing apartment buying, and I savoured the feeling of a real discussion passing in the warm afternoon glow by the fireplace (with fire in it!).

I'm finding out that I can and do miss my normal life pretty much. Today hasn't been without highlights. For instance, I saw an absolutely charming young daughter of the-son-of-my-father's-brother, whatever that makes him in family terms that I never have been able to recall.

Spotting such a lovely creature and grasping that having such a wonder is also within my own reach gives me a good pang on the genetic programming side, I'm sure. The whole issue with children -- and the thought that always douses bucketfuls of cold water on the whole thought -- is that there's absolutely no guarantee that my own kid wouldn't turn out to be such a lovely creature of wonder but probably a horrible dull schoolyard bull or something.

I mean, I know I'd be out there expecting something and probably not loving enough, and in the right ways, if some of my dreams wouldn't be met. And the horror of that thought, that I'd dash headlong into what most likely is a terrifying mistake does stop me. It's not just that I'm rationalizing away my desire of wanting to have kids, but that I feel that there's also quite a bit of truth in what I'm saying here.

If I count the hundreds of children that I've seen in my life, I feel that only a few of them have struck me as so absolutely charming and lovable that I would be so proud and happy to be their father. And what will that make of the others? Well, just regular kids. Quite a burden on you and your life, and for what? There's never a good answer to that question. It's a heartbreaking thought. And even more importantly, I believe it's tough odds against, too.


I've now watched and re-watched the Twin Peaks first production season, too. That entertainment has seriously run dry. The directors' comments were interesting. Many things that I thought that had been scripted by Lynch and friends actually weren't.

For instance, there's that one wonderful moment where the actors are staged in vetenary's waiting room, and one of the patients there, a camel (it's actually a llama) stops when walking past Cooper and looks at Cooper and Cooper looks back at it, and then moment passes without anyone blinking at the utter strangeness of that.

It was actually the episode director's idea, who had seen people having llamas in their backyards and asked for one. He said that TP were one of the few series where you could ask for such an animal without anyone blinking and actually get one! The llama pauses to seemingly look at Cooper because it's smelling the chewing gum. And the director had instructed Cooper to take as much eye contact with the animal as was possible. The end result is so bizarre and strange, and yet passes if it was totally ordinary. That's an example of the many things that I love about Twin Peaks!

Firstly, of course, it's a turbocharged soap opera, whose characters are actually occasionally watching a soap called "Invitation to Love". That soap is a mirror of Twin Peaks itself, and serves to highlight the fact the reality of TP is even more soapy than your average soap opera. The implication, I think, is something like that the world the characters live is utterly silly and crazy.

There's for instance Laura's "identical twin" that's just a cousin arriving, acted by the same actor, of course too. What is utterly remarkable about Twin Peaks is that the fact it's doing stupid soap stuff doesn't matter. It works because the sphere where Twin Peaks operates is somewhere above and beyond just being a soap. Like in other soaps, it's really about the characters and a place that looks ordinary, but which has some very eccentric people and where no-one is quite like they seem. The difference is that here, the characters are played very real, even if what is going on is so totally absurd. Against this backdrop it's possible to do things that you normally wouldn't get away with.

I'm reminded of the beautiful The Straight Story which was really about extremely ordinary people in middle of nowhere deciding to do some extraordinary things. Somehow it takes off from there and goes through the places and the many people that it really is about. Twin Peaks holds an extremely convoluted story, and I don't think it would have any chance at all unless it were so well cast.

Back when I were younger, I remember that I was frustrated and nearly infuriated by the fact that Twin Peaks could stretch on and go off all sorts of weird tangents in solving the main crime, the murder of Laura. All that mystical stuff, somehow, also stank very suspiciously to me. I was starting to understand, as it dragged on episode after episode that even at the moment the killer would finally be revealed, it wouldn't turn out anything like I had expected.

I realized I would most probably be disappointed. You see, my basis for watching TP was in old Sherlock Holmes novels and movies, and I quite probably thought that the classic detective stuff was one of the most fascinating genres of them all. And most importantly, you're supposed to have some kind of rational mastermind behind a crime, it was supposed to be somehow intellectually satisfying. It wasn't supposed to be some kind of demon from the woods.

The mould of expectations was bound to be shattered, because it simply isn't compatible with the kind of work especially David Lynch produces, which is more about stunning scenes taking place in some kind of alternative universe where the weirdness is ordinary and there's always a sense of impending doom in the air.

I'm still not quite sure I've matured enough to be able to lay down that mould, because it's one of my favourite toys and I often would like that the world respected my toys. It would allow me to proclaim some kind of godhood about the universe, I think. The fact that real world is incredibly messy offends that particular sense of tidiness.

I know that each time I can put down my toys I can look ahead and possibly see bit of the world clearer than before, and perhaps give up the silly toys that in the eyes of future will seem just as childish as this rambling my tired brain is producing. It's just more toys ahead, gentlemen, all the way into the future.


My brother seems to want to take up guitar playing again. I played piece of stuff I know how to play -- awful renditions -- really, of Steve Hackett's Horizons, and the Ritchie Blackmore piece Minstrel Hall, or something such. He had a new classical guitar, and said he'll go get an electric one next week.

I tried to play some Philip Glass on the piano myself. I think I'm starting to remember Metamorphosis 4 again, but I have forgot so much ... It's like I could remember the mood but not the key, and none of the chords and only bits of melody in completely wrong key. I got some sensory memory of fingers twisting on keys and if I dare to press the keys down, out comes something rather dissonant and the mood is disturbed. Then I can't find the start, end, or the middle of the song, and each attempt just removes me further. Frustrating.

Being able to play any instrument at all lends tremendous power of self-expression (whether real or just an illusion is irrelevant). Self-expression matters. That is, after all, why I'm trying to write this crap. Been silent for too long, and it shows.

Making a CD

I decided to make a CD for my brother he could listen if he could ever feel curious about what kind of music I mostly listen to. I'm going to put all sorts of evil shite on it, but I'm going to start it as if it were a serious effort.

I'm hampered by not including all the relevant stuff of my music collection. Not to mention that I don't have an independent mp3 player software to convert mp3 files to wavs for burning! Arrgh. Last time I'll leave mpg321 uninstalled. For instance, I'd have this totally amazing Joe Hisaishi track from Piano Stories that simply isn't available now. I bleed, but it can't be helped. And oh yes, I'm going to put some Galás on it. So, here's what I planned:

  1. Keiko Matsui: Ever After (from Whisper from the Mirror)
  2. Keiko Matsui: 1942, From Russia (from Doll)
  3. Keiko Matsui: Mystic Dance (from Deep Blue)
  4. Philip Glass: Helen's Theme (from Candyman OST)
  5. Philip Glass: Wichita Vortex Sutra (from Solo Piano)
  6. Philip Glass: Distraught (from Kundun OST)
  7. Philip Glass: Open the Kingdom (from Liquid Days)
  8. Philip Glass: Rubric (from Glassworks)
  9. Philip Glass: Closing (from Glassworks)
  10. Seatbelts: Piano Bar (from Cowboy Bebop Vitaminless)
  11. Diamanda Galás: I'm gonna live the life (from Malediction and Prayer)
  12. Diamanda Galás: Gloomy Sunday (from Malediction and Prayer)
  13. Flower Kings: Poor mr. Rain's Ordinary Guitar (from Stardust We Are)
  14. Flower Kings: If 28 (from Stardust We Are)
  15. Flower Kings: Ghost of the Red Cloud (from Stardust We Are)
  16. Flower Kings: Compassion (from Stardust We Are)

Pretty insane combination. Have to file this one down under Miscellaneous.