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Significances, occurrences and wafflings - A Most Illuminating Tale
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Robert Wells or Mr Waters
Date: 6.15 pm, Thursday 5th April, 2007
Subject: Significances, occurrences and wafflings
Security: Public
Location:CW library, N22
There have been a number of small but notable significances occurring in my life as of late.

Having recently read House of Leaves, the phrase Muss es sein? is flagged up, and later the inevitable Es muss sein.
Watching Classical Assassins on Friday night, I was surprised that it is a quote from Beethoven, various tales of which can be found on the internet.

As ever I like numbers. Yesterday morning the page number I was up to at Finsbury Park was 234 and by Wood Green it was 246. Today it was 185 and 196 (both significant local buses).

I read a joke written in a peculiar style in the current edition of McSweeney's.
The next day I read a truncated version in a play by Philip Ridley.

Having read Philip Ridley, I now keep seeing dead birds wherever I look. I dream of unwelcome fusion, the symbiosis of parasites.

There are a lot of repeating themes in his work as well. I remember seeing enough of Peter Morris's work that you started mentally checking off the themes that he will use. You assume every man will turn out to be gay and every woman violent.

I've just about broken my recent rut of not finishing books. I keep getting halfway through something and then switching to something shinynew. The unfinished of the last few weeks are The Balcony by Jean Genet, Plays by Richard Greenberg, Plays 1 by Phillip Ridley, A zit on the side by Jasper Carrott (don't ask), McSweeney's issue 22, The Arcadians, and I even briefly attempted to read the Oulipo Compendium from cover to cover. Then I managed to finish Vincent River, and they've started to tumble.

I'm loving amazon marketplace. I keep getting shiny new music through the door, which, once again, I'm struggling to listen to fast enough. At the moment the last few albums are on random on my creativebrandimitationipod and I keep pulling out Poe and Terra Folk and (from the library) Elaine Stritch at Liberty, Randy Newman's Faust and Love by The Beatles, all of which I'm loving. I had All You Need is Love on the way in to work the other day and I had dismissed it as trite for years, but it is so uplifting. There's lots of guitar based stuff on my playlist at the moment, but not knowing the bands very well, I tend not to know what I've been listening to.

Here's a favour you could do for me if you're bored, go here and look at the list of albums on my computer. I've got lots more than I will ever be able to listen to, and I keep getting stuck on the same few. Recommend me something I already have. Pick out something I ought to listen to again, or even listen to for the first time.

When I went to see Classical Assassins on Friday night, I took the 41 bus from work and got off on Crouch End Hill, just like uncle TFL told me to. Then it had me wiggle down a set of steps to a mud track in a cutting which runs, I kid you not, from Finsbury Park to Highgate Fields. I walked for ten or twenty minutes surrounded by mud and trees and mud and then, when my earphones decided to play Il Pleure from the excellent Seduction of Claude Debussy, the heavens opened. This is definitely the season for remembering your umbrella.

I arrived at the venue far too early, bought my ticket, and wandered up the road to a cafe called The Office, where I had the soup and watched people running through the rain outside. There was a business man (in his suit and tie) at the next table, who paid and apologised for not eating his food, but his wife had just called to remind him that they were eating out tonight. So I was offered more soup. They had a number of screens playing old black and white films. One starred Audrey Hepburn, and one had a fantastic sequence about a man trying on a coat, but I'll be dashed if I can pin them down any further.

Some news stories that have excited me in the last week. I want one of these. Seriously though, what have the catholics got against this? It's a depiction of jesus on the cross, well timed for easter, by a respected artist. The fact that it is made in chocolate if anything gives me the message that people have lost the message of religious festivals underneath the commercialism, not the message that the religions or their festivals are to blame. Anyway. I want one. Even if the loin cloth is sold seperately.

I read this report in this week's stage and actually threw it across the room. He talks about making the fringe more accessible, but this is nothing to do with finances. Personally the only reason I haven't taken a show of my own to the fringe is I can't afford it. Even the fringe guide to putting a show on has a sample budget that loses £2k (and has £10k corporate sponsorship). I want to go back to the day when you turned up and performed and the programme was an A3 sheet and money came in shillings and pianos still had lids and actors don't speak up like they used to...

The Gilbert and Sullivan double bill (a play by Gilbert and a "comic folly" by Sullivan) was excellent, but I feel no need to sing its praises here as it's totally sold out. Suffice to say Sweethearts does in 50 minutes what Chekhov takes four acts to do and The Zoo is a perfect example of all that was good about musical theatre back then.

Oscar's birthday on Tuesday was lovely. He roasted a pig's shoulder for 24 hours and served it up with mountains of roastedness. Then there was cake and cards and presents and I think he felt loved. Then there was the pinata and I managed to get him to hit himself in the testicles. I even managed to drop it on his head at one point. Finally, when he resorted to tearing it with his hands, there was a wave of chocolates and small toys which covered most of the house. A splendid time guarenteed for all.

The most exciting event of last night was that Matt finished the Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess and, at the risk of giving a minor spoiler, my god is Midna hot. Believe me, stills do not do her justice. And as Matt said "she comes into the game a minx and by god she leaves it a minx".

I missed the new Doctor Who, and since I tend to be busy at weekends and the BBC in their infinite wisdom have decided to put both showings at the weekend, I will shortly have to download azureus, which I don't really want to do.

Finally, we all know the sensation of learning a word and then hearing it repeatedly. As soon as I've admitted to myself that I am horny, every billboard starts showing underwear adverts, everything I read turns to smut (the oulipo section in the current McSweeney's is riddled with filth, as a fine example) and we all know what Summer In The City means. But to cap it all off, two albums arrived for the library today. One is Julie Atherton's A Girl of Few Words. She can currently be seen playing Lucy the Slut in Avenue Q. The other? Debbie Does Dallas: The Musical.
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