Thursday, March 10, 2005

 

Pet names

Strange the endearments that spring to the lips.

Chick pea,
Titsybits,
Hust,
Chickenface,
Chipstick,
Ritsytits,
Darleybaa,
Doveyhon,
Dovely,
Hinmabin.

This is why the cat ended up called Babe. He should feel relieved.


Babe: lucky escape

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

 

Looking for the programme

This evening, we saw Ma, contemporary dance at the Playhouse.

As my mind wandered onto the ten or eleventh different thing, it made me realise how important meaning and narrative are to me. One the few occasions I've seen plays in foreign languages, opera or ballet, I'm the one squinting into my lap at the programme every ten minutes to try and keep up with what's happening in the story. In the absence of a narrative, an apparent point, I just get distracted.

At one point in Ma, they started saying a few words and I felt a surge of hope that it would start to make sense, but it was short-lived.

The movement and the music actually made me sit up and smile with delight quite frequently, but I felt there was something missing. Makes me feel ignorant to say it, but there we are. The programme didn't help either.

 

Staggering

Twice this evening I have had a strong and unfamiliar feeling. So stong that I'm actually writing a post after a 3 month gap.

First, astonishment. It's not exactly infrequently that we hear shocking news in the media, but I'm used to it making me feel weary and sad. Today's news that the IRA have offered to SHOOT the men responsible for Robert McCartney's killing made me shout at the TV and even laugh. It was so unbelievable, how else could you react? What on this earth are they THINKING? The sheer mismatch of this response to everything ANYBODY finds reasonable or moral was staggering.

Second, disgust. I will never eat an unfree-range chicken again. I have said this many times before, meant it and then tucked into a satay chicken at the Oxford Thai in a little denial-bubble. This time, however, I really hope to mean it. Every time I want to weaken I will bring to mind the BrightCoop web site. So how did I imagine that they caught and killed chickens in huge barns?

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