Friday, February 20, 2004

Well, I did finish reading Great Expectations last Monday. You see, I got this delightful email from my Narrative tutor on the day of my last blog telling me that I had to have it read by Monday the 9th of February. I did have it read by the 9th of February, yet I did not have to have had it read by the 9th of February. Not for another week. Damn her for making me do reading in advance. Literally.

On the other hand, I've not quite finished reading A Journal of the Plague Year, even though that should have been read by Tuesday. It's boring. It's like those Italian Neo-Realist movies that I had to watch for my World Cinema unit on my Film Studies A2 course. If I wanted to watch something 'realist', I wouldn't. I'd check out a documentary. At least they're interesting. I managed Great Expectations purely because it is not wholly 'realist' and has elements of the fairy-tale and melodrama narratives and was actually entertaining. So far, the only bit of a thrill I've got from A Journal... is the account of those boarded up in their house who blew up their watchman with gunpowder to escape. Kind of reminded me of Chardonnay's burning titties. I'm not sure why. There was no escape involved in it. Perhaps it was just the ridiculousness of it.

However, I'm going to try and get loads of reading done this weekend. I'm thinking a little bit of Middlemarch, Barthes' Mythologies and perhaps those leaves of boredom that are Defoe's. Not mine. Why didn't the bastard keep them? Or at least keep them hidden from my over-entusiastic Victor Meldrew lookalike of a lecturer who was most probably the instigator of the novel's involvement in my course. Orality and Literacy? Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. I'll eat chocolate and get fat.

Wednesday, February 04, 2004

Today's journey of goodness included:

Taxi Driver
Great film! If only I had control of my own Travis Bickle! Not that I cannot see a Monsieur B in my entourage, but rather that I could use said person to my advantage. Of course, this wouldn't be to the good of humanity, or society even, e.g. Martin Scorsese's (or rather Paul Schrader's) anti-hero, or the T-101 in the Terminator sequels, but for the good of myself - extinguishing the outer demons which suddenly decide to threaten the stability of my existence.

Another great film. Also directed by the Martin Scorsese. Again, it provides some sort of wish fulfillment - why can't I be a gangster? Probably because I'm a fucking pussy and would run away ten minutes before a situation which those lovable rogues tend to involve themselves in arose. Besides, I've always been told that if you wish for something, you have to take the bad stuff with the good, and frankly, I don't want to end up in Her Majesty's 'Butt-fucking' Service, hooked on cocaine, or in the kind of relationship that the Hills had. Still, those Doggs are cool as ice.

Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
Only read 148 pages, but I'm determined to be a little more successful in my reading of set texts from now on. I'm aiming to read at least 144 pages a day, so that, not only will I have read the book by the time of my first 'Narrative' seminar on Monday, but should also have got in some critical study. Which would be nice.

Other than a bit of cultural dabbling, I can't really profess to doing much else. Dickens distracted me from the idiot box, and pretty much everything. Though in about ten minutes from when I'm writing this sentence here, I shall be eating a ham and pineapple pizza - if that's something that you wish to know. (Note: a whole ham and pineapple pizza - yes, I am a fat cunt).

Once I've completed the rest of my jobs for the day (washing up and cleaning the bathroom), I might just flop out on my MADE bed for a bit of televisual entertainment. Yes, my life is about as exciting as a pork pie. Or any other un-noticeable object that always manages to pass detection.

Monday, February 02, 2004

Woohoo! The Daft Shite Returns....

There's no real reason for my absence, since, unlike my flatmates, I've had no exams or anything mildly in a similar vein. Not for nearly a month now, anyhow. No, I've been happily sat down, doing nothing, most probably slowly contracting deep vein thrombosis like that kid on the TV. Oh the joy!

I have made good use of the time, however. After a brief two-day stint of course-related reading (Middlemarch - still not finished...), my concentration has been mostly taken by my videos. Today I watched The Spy Who Shagged Me for the first time in ages, along with The Usual Suspects, The Silence Of The Lambs, Memento and Se7en. Evidently, the most part of the day has been crime-oriented, and because of the pure abundance of criminal activity on screen, it was never going to be impossible that it could spill out off-screen. After the mid-break in Hollyoaks today, my worst fears came true - the fire alarm went off, meaning evacuation of the building, meaning missing the end of today's instalment. Obviously, due to the sheer length of time for the alarm to be cleared up, and also because God obviously doesn't see the point in ruining one intake of soapiness for the day, I missed Emmerdale too. I did have pizza, but without the therapeutic comfort of seeing people hard-done-by ALL THE TIME(!), surely it wasn't as nice as it could have been if I had been purged of my dirty discontent with that lovely televisual detergent.

I just hope that tomorrow's wash is a bit more fruitful.