Okee-dokee. That’s me done again for a bit. As I said at the start, these three months have just been odds and sods — nothing too electrifying really — and mostly queued up in March; which means they’ve been automatically posted while I have been busy with worldly activities. I am in-job now, so the time I can spend on researching, writing, idling and other such unwordly reveries, has been drastically reduced. This means that unless something surprising happens, 33 Myths of the Ego will not appear until next year at the earliest. 1
‘Something surprising’ might mean that one of my novels or teevee scripts gets published / produced. Or it might mean that someone pays me to leave work for a year or start a cult in Paraguay. Or it might mean that I finally decide to walk the earth. In all cases if you’re signed up to my mailing list, I’ll let you know (I aim to send out max 2 brief emails a year). I’ll also send a mail out if I decide to finish off this blog — this ‘idealised projection of my self’ (as one reader put it) — along with a few essays I have lying around in various states of completion (one on comedy, one on ‘the rich’, another on horror and dread, etc.). Oh, and I might do a podcast at some point too.
In the meantime I’ll be growing daffodils, walking around Reading in succulent disgust, listening to the Busch quartet’s recording of Beethoven’s fifteenth string quartet, visiting Reading Gaol and writing poems therein, thwarting squirrels, planning situationist interventions and photoshopping my face onto classic album covers.
Live in the senses my friends.