Everyone knows music sets the mood. I like to watch people to GYBE!. It makes it all so very much more surreal. A slow-motion rock soundtrack to some Lynch-ian journey. It aids my thoughts. With no outside stimulae, people talking become sinister, billboards make less sense than normal, you could be anyone, anywhere. The slightest turn of the head to a creshendo of cellos and feedback take on loaded meanings, the whole world turns at a different speed.
Case in point, and story one. On the train, on the way home. I was reading, headphones on, oblivious to all around me. From the corner of my eye, I could see the girl opposite me, but further than noting she was female, no other details were taken in. Then, again in my peripheral vision, she lay down across two seats. tsk thinks I, must be a kid, lying down to sleep. (It wouldn’t be the first time some young girl with a tattered skirt and battered DMs had keeled out on the train. Booze Britain lives!) Next thing I know, three people are standing in front of me, and some commotion is going on. Now, aside from young ladies sleeping off too much Campari on the train, I have no issue with people taking up two seats. And here was The Great and The Good harrassing this girl. Wishing to get some more context, I remove the headphones, put down the book. And it turns out it wasn’t some tartlet on the sauce on her way home to Essexland. No. It was an old woman, and she had just had a heart attack. And me, directly opposite, had ignored her. Others had come to her aid. Mortified? Oh yes. Maybe I should turn the volume down a little…
Case in point, and story two. On the tube, on the way to work. I was reading, headphones on, oblivious to all around me. From the corner of my eye, I could see the girl at the end of the train, and this time I noted she was indeed late twenties, kinky boots and three-quarters length coat. Standard policy wonk I see get off at Westminster. She also had her heaphones on, and seemed to be doing some sort of odd dance to what she was listening to. All very confusing, until people start moving away from her. Quickly. Given my previous failing, I thought I would go to her aid, and see what I could do. Well. I couldn’t get close, due to the increasing pool of puke gathering on the carriage floor. The tube stops, she runs out the doors, followed by no one, but a massive throng through the other door. I went out too, but she was gone, so I have no idea how she was. And this ground the whole line to a halt. Therefore another walk for me. Maybe I should turn the volume up a little…
Oh, I have more stories since I have started venturing into The City. LondonWorkTakeTwo is interesting, and I haven’t run. Yet. But all the stories are different from the ones in Cambridge-Town. City folk, eh?
I have been asked, several times, what do I believe. Whatever you don’t, honey. Your favourite belief sucks. My own personal philosophy, mixed up with theology and physics, is quite complex, and self-contradictory. So I find myself constantly asking people Why?, without getting any particular sound response. As if politics was instinctive, unthinking and handed down from your parents. As if theology was distant and remote, and to be ignored. As if philosophy was barren, intellectual and irrelevant. As if.
Most people on my journey read fluff. The odd crypto-pseud can be seen reading Camus over the top of her hornrims, lots of pink or lilac covers, some Amazonian women in fur bikinis, but nothing of real note. But one old girl who gets on at the same station as me has been reading that lying, misanthropic, stupid, idiotic Naomi Klein woman’s book. For weeks. I also may have muttered my disgust to myself, which only caused a caustic raise of an eyebrow. Doesn’t anyone wish to engage anymore?
Wu chih i wei yung
Given my oft-mentioned love of theology, it was with great interest I saw that there was some new parts of the Torah found. I quote:
לֹא אֶעֱזָבְךְ
לֹא אֲבַוֵש מִשִּׂבְרךְ
לֹא וְהִתְשׁוֹטַטְנִ ולֹא אַרְפְּךָ
with thanks to Simon for help with the translation. Which goes like:
I will not forsake you
I will not make you ashamed of your hope
I will not run hither and thither and
I will not abandon you
damn, you always make my head hurt. I like this post/ I always turn my headphones up, but sadly reading on the bus makes me sick.
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Adele / Toast
Sun 12 Oct, 6:33PM