Slippers

Station master didn't ask the Doctor.
Doctor didn't talk to the Milkman.
Milkman didn't regret.

What does that mean? - you may well ask.

Analytically it isn't much of a question; What, one may ask, does anything mean in this kind of age.

An age of capitalism and service based economy.

An age where contacts and money mean everything, where personallity and wit count for bugger all.

An age where anything should be possible.. but where nothing is.

And that's why Jo Jo looked out on the misty morning's rose.
sli 3:26 PM

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- Take me home.
sli 7:03 PM

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I heared a brilliant poem on the radio yesterday. Seriously.

I'd just returned early from .. well what was quite frankly a miserable night out and was sleepily listening to radio five. That's unusual, but presumably someone had tuned it from radio1 during the day. It had Edwina Curry (sp?) on. I often forget she has a show on Sat/Sun late evenings. You can say a lot of things about Edwina - slag, trollope, slut. And I'd have to disagree. Basically, she's is the enbodyment of all that lovely old British Ladies stand for. And if you've never met a single lovely old British Lady, then you haven't lived.

They had a poetry thingy on. It was pretty shit. I was thinking 'I'll just listen to the halfhour news, then I'll phone someone' - in the way that we early-slinkers-home-on-a-saturday-night do. Suddenly, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising; I found myself listening to the poem being read out on the radio. Blimey.. the words this guy was using were incredible, the staccato rythem was spine chilling. I was suddenly in a trance of poetical satisfaction. I don't remember what the poem was about.

Finally, at the end of it - even Edwina was moved. She asked "And how old are you -name that i can't remember-?" The reply was "16".

Fuck.
sli 6:06 PM

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I listen to Don McLean virtually everyday. No it never ever gets dull. And yes, you can probably guess the song.

For those of you who don't know, American Pie is a mourning dirge kind of song reminiscing for the music of the past. It has many interpretations, mainly centralised on the that Buddy Holly plane crash. As a direct opposite, there is no music that is more likely to piss me off than one of Buddy Holly’s old numbers.

“Everyday’s a getting’ closer, Faster than a roller coaster…”

That kind of lyric, set to that kind of music, has a real grating potential on my skull. Why then, do you ask; am I sitting in on a Friday night extolling the virtues of a Don McLean song that was written in memory of such a genre? Allow me to explain.

Donnie never really confirmed what the imagery - the musical pictures, or anything else that he included in the song - were meant to be; despite one hell of a lot of people asking him. In truth, I don’t think he knows himself; oh sure, he put together a whole set of events that lead to the downfall of rock n’ roll. The Beatles surging to the top. The plane crash. But to translate the song line by line – it would be impossible.

The song isn't written in a way that every line carries a significant something . The bulk of the song is utter melancholy. And that’s why I listen to it.

To remember the things I could lose in life.
sli 8:45 PM

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- Maybe there isn't much point in describing my feelings concerning the eventual and clinical finish that will awaiting us at the end of life. Let's face it, there's enough discussion, argument, theory and miserable fear/yearning to be related to it already.
sli 9:51 AM

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