Five things about me
I have been tagged by Mr Cultural Snow (www.culturalsnow.blogspot.com) , so I have to think of five things about me ... right, I'm such a fascinating, multi-faceted chappie, that should be easy ... um ... let me think ... um
Right.
1)When I was three, I bit my tongue in half. My parents had to rush me to hospital, and then rush back home again to pick up the other half and rush back to hospital so the surgeons could sew it back on. The operation was, more or less, successful.
2)I got my nose broke in Staines town centre late one night many years ago, by some aggressive normals, for wearing bondage trousers ... I was a very early punk.
3)I play a mean alto sax ... a very mean alto sax.
4)My brain functions have been irreparably warped by intense and prolonged exposure to William Burroughs at an early and impressionable age. Thankfully.
5)I have delusions of omnipotence followed by bouts of intense self-loathing.
PLEASE LEAVE THE FOLLOWING IN ALL POSTS
'Remember that it isn't always the sensational stuff that writers are looking for, it can just as easily be something that you take for granted like having raised twins or knowing how to grow beetroot. Mind you, if you know how to fly a helicopter or have worked as a film extra, do feel free to let the rest of us know about it.'
Right.
1)When I was three, I bit my tongue in half. My parents had to rush me to hospital, and then rush back home again to pick up the other half and rush back to hospital so the surgeons could sew it back on. The operation was, more or less, successful.
2)I got my nose broke in Staines town centre late one night many years ago, by some aggressive normals, for wearing bondage trousers ... I was a very early punk.
3)I play a mean alto sax ... a very mean alto sax.
4)My brain functions have been irreparably warped by intense and prolonged exposure to William Burroughs at an early and impressionable age. Thankfully.
5)I have delusions of omnipotence followed by bouts of intense self-loathing.
PLEASE LEAVE THE FOLLOWING IN ALL POSTS
'Remember that it isn't always the sensational stuff that writers are looking for, it can just as easily be something that you take for granted like having raised twins or knowing how to grow beetroot. Mind you, if you know how to fly a helicopter or have worked as a film extra, do feel free to let the rest of us know about it.'
posted by St. Anthony at Friday, November 10, 2006
13 Comments:
Interesting facts there Anthony - when young, he bit off his tongue. Did it move after it fell onto the floor? Scary stuff.
I got hit in the eye by a skittle-ball at my sister's 21st birthday party and had to be taken to hospital for stitches. I was six.
I think that may have informed my cultural growth in some strange way that I'm still trying to decode. I refuse to pay for therapy. I remember collecting beer bottle lids and lining them up on the bar-top just prior to my 'accident'. I enjoyed their similarity, yet difference. A nurse told my mother off for keeping me up so late. She was mortified. It was the mid-1960s.
Freudian analysis may come and go in and out of fashion, but he was definitely right when he spoke about childhood - that the things that get hardwired into the psyche at an early age stay there for life.
And they swirl up from the depths in the most oblique ways ... people who are into hardcore S&M, or whatever ... or uniforms, or animal costumes ... lovely ...
I tend to agree with your contention, Anthony. For me, the trick is to convert what might be negative or corrosive aspects of that early programming into positive and useful activities and leanings now. The darkside of anything seems more attractive than the bright side first-off. For me now, in my 40s, that stuff just looks a bit sixth form, a bit naff, too easy; all that grubbing around, admixing nihilism with self-pity, with the smell of burning martyr. It is a much bigger and more interesting challenge to be good and loving. As Morrissey said '...it's so easy to hate; it takes guts to be gentle and kind...'. Give me Brian Wilson over Revolting Cocks anyday! There's room for both. But the former is more adult, to my mind. In the same way, there are differing versions of SM, D/s. There's the crude and frankly boring, basically chavenistic/matriarchal model, which is most common; and there's the life-affirming and more emotionally and socially sophisticated model based upon true and mutual experimentation. If it isn't consensual it's Nazism.
Much-delayed PS: Childhood Accidents/incidents.
(1) Aged 10ish. Sat down, banging iron gate. Unbeknownst to me, a housebrick on top. Falls off. Hits me on head. Single gutteral scream. Walked 500 yards home. Mum was beside herself. I was strangely proud of all the blood on my face. I lost.
(2) Aged 14. School bully arranged ambush for me one dinner time. Got both hands broken in fight. Right-hand broken punching foe. Left hand broken blocking kick from DMs. I lost.
(3) Aged 8ish. Bike race. Determined to win, I rode bike full speed into wire fence finishing-line. I won.
(4) Aged 15. Fight with lad bullying my sister. I won.
(5) Aged 11. First day of senior school. Fight with lad, at his suggestion, over seat in Technical Drawing class. I won.
(6) Supposed top of the class material at 13, by 16, Donovan had thrown it all away, getting only a handful of CSEs. I lost.
(7) Aged 6. I do remember hitting my then teacher, Mrs. Ainsworth, in the eye with a tennis ball, whilst playing Rounders. I lost.
and much later...
(8) Aged 38. Got through viva for PhD. I won.
(9) Aged 40. Met Annie on a blind-date in Lincoln. We are getting married next year. I won.
PPS: As each day goes by, I'm getting less and less interested in social realism and more and more interested in Surrealism. I almost said - out loud, too - that my favourite film is The Man Who Fell to Earth. I used to say it was The Hill. Like you do; when asked. Recently watched: Persona, The Swimmer, Performance, Naked Lunch, La Jette, Sans Soleil, Touch of Evil. We are currently enthralled by Nathan Barley.
Let's hear it for Chris Marker, top man. 'Persona' too, far and away my favourite Bergman film.
I always say I'm most interested in Social Surrealism, which I'd like to claim as an original neologism but have a sneaking suspicion I copped from the N.M.E in its 80s heyday.
I was weaned, serious film watchingwise, on Eisenstein and his horror of realism and the anecdotal.
I like fractured and formalist stuff ... early Roeg is good.
I think, adding up your 9 Stations of the Cross, doc, that you're ahead on points.
Although I knew Rose before, we got together when I literally picked her up out of the gutter.
Her parents love hearing that ... not.
Yes, Social Surrealism. One can imagine that as a NME banner. Your tastes are spot on, in my opinion, Anthony. I've always faced East in my attitudes. As a child I used to want to live in Russia or East Germany. I always had some odd instinct that America was a bad thing, a bit too plastic and a bit too dumb. I've no idea where all that came from, but it's still in me! Early Roeg - yes; fantastic. Marker - so wonderful, emotional. Best sci-fi for me is not those reworked cowboy films like Star Wars, but 2001, La Jetee, and Silent Running.
I like 'nine stations of the cross'. Glad I'm ahead on points, too! I feel like I am - if that's not smug-sounding. I think Annie and I picked each other - if not out of the gutter, then at least - up.
Lovely tales here from both of you two. I loved the ideas of what form us from our childhood. Yes, moments that form the psyche. And our visions, needs.
I loved Kek's story. And lining up bottle tops. When we were kids they let us play with bottle tops. I can still smell the lovely boozy, metallic smell of them as you ran your finger through them. Usually inside a biscuit tin. I wonder if Kek remembers that too. Anyone else remember them?
I liked the fact that they were all the same, ie bottle-tops, but all different...there were so many makes of bottled beer back then. I think I might have mild Aspergers. My mother had a biscuit-tin she used to keep (my panties in, er...) stray buttons in. I can still remember the faint smell of rust.
persuasion ... you gotta get some ...
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