Generalism

Eee I do come across some interesting bits and pieces sometimes. What’s that you say? You want a study showing that smart folk have less sex? Well who am I to turn down such a fascinating request for information?

Voila.

Now don’t read it all at once children.

I like the Zen Habits blog. There’s something about reading its enlightening content that makes me feel like I’m improving myself in mystical and mysterious ways. Even having it on my RSS feed make me feel like I’m bordering on a higher plane. I like blogs like that.

Anyhoo, I read a rather more down-to-earth post today about a slightly less mystical matter, money, something I’m strangely anal about, despite a) not spending much, and b) being happy just to be able to pay the bills. There’s a whole ton of stuff in there, but it all just makes so much sense I can’t do anything but post about it. For those who want to be as anal as I (you know who you are <ahem>), have a mooch around. If it gives you an extra few quid in yer back pocket, then it’s done its job (once you’ve sent me my cut).

Public service announcement over.

… a song to sing… tum te tum…

I went to see Mamma Mia at the weekend at London’s Prince of Wales theatre. Just amazing. Go, laugh, be merry, stand, and sing/dance your heart out. Just brilliant. But, on the subject of dreams…

I happen to dream a lot when asleep. Not perhaps the more usual flying/running/chasing/insert-random-action dreams, but more often than not fully-fledged stories that take place over a period of time, and either repeat or follow on during subsequent nights. Perhaps I read too much. Perhaps I watch too much tv, play too many video games. Who knows. I thought I’d share one from last night though, as it was particularly vivid, and I just happened to get up and write the pertinent points down. Jackanory hat on, and remember, this was just a dream…

…

Red and Blue didn’t have a problem with each other, right up to the point where Red found a way of doubling their production capabilities. Then the shit hit the fan.

I was on a crappy trawler mid-atlantic when it happened. I can’t remember now how I translated the screams and shouting into something as big as a Red/Blue imbalance; perhaps I’d grown up with even-stevens so long that it struck my subconscious as the only likely scenario. But I knew straight away what the consequences would be, and the Blues running up the stairs towards me toting what looked like typically efficient machine guns told me that the only ways off this boat for a Red were going to be by bullet or liferaft. I didn’t fancy singing my final song quite yet, so forgive me for taking the easy way out.

I woke up wet and cold in an inflatable that had seen better days and less bullets, the last night a blur. I couldn’t quite believe the possibilities; a Red-Blue imbalance. The ramifications didn’t come to me until later, at which point imagination was unnecessary anyway.

I could feel the crappy, leaking dinghy had hit land, and looking out was bumping up against what looked like a foreign coastline of washed up discarded hulls, covered in unintelligible white writing clearly in a rush to be somewhere else. The significance of the graveyard was funny in hindsight, but then isn’t it always. I heard shouting; a man and a woman running in my direction, gesturing and making no sense whatsoever, eventually dragging my sorry ass out of the even sorrier remains of my saviour. As they pulled me out and I staggered inland towards a nearby stream, their jabber still scratching the insides of my ears, it was then that I realised that the possibilities had become fact; Red ran from my feet to the horizon, clogging the stream, killing the animals, filling everything with its delicate and deadly filth.

The balance had shifted, and the world was gonna take a beating…