Return to Base-camp

Not that I have taken a break or anything but with the child-shaped on holidays, the hub-person still in a bad way (having left the bedroom only 3 times since October) and given that I have been sleeping in two hour bouts since Christmas time I have been working on my laptop on the sofa mostly under a duvet for the last couple of weeks… and comfy though that is, it isn’t particularly productive. So today I have returned to my office. Not that today will be any better work-wise, since the children have taken it over and it is currently a huge mess… but I have cleared myself some workspace anyway – and have done a couple of PLT exercises I was cunningly avoiding (because I had reached a stage of having to look inside myself and was slightly scared of what I might find!) and now here I am once more in the midst of two reviews, researching for an article on auto-suggestion and (obviously) writing this piece for your entertainment.

All this and it isn’t even half ten yet! Frickin’ marvellous, eh?!

Something that has come out of my downtime is that I have rediscovered the joy of reading for fun. One of the issues with studying all the time is that there is a need to read relevant texts; this stops me from reading recreationally and I had really forgotten how great it was to give yourself over to a really good book just for the sake of it. I guess in a lot of ways this is why I have ended up reading… I can just say “the book” can’t I? You won’t be thinking I mean the Bible or anything, because we have an understanding, yeah? You know the one I mean? Anyway – the thing with ‘that’ book is that I can just pick it up and read without really thinking about it too much (or at all!) – Okay it kind of helps that as I read it I can almost hear his voice reading it to me… but that’s healthy enough isn’t it? I mean reading is all about using your imagination, right?

I picked up a heap of ‘other’ volumes written by authors of some of those books we have all read a while ago (Huxley, Golding and Orwell amongst others) and decided I could make a start on them – I’d forgotten how good it was to challenge the mind slightly; not to mention realising how differently our brains must function depending on what we are reading. I can generally whip through a book fairly quickly, even a non-fiction one given the right subject matter, yet it seemed to take me an age to plough through the relatively short “Darkness Visible” by William Golding. It was a peculiar process, whereby I found myself constantly re-reading sentences that didn’t seem to make sense at all to me to the point where I was almost wondering if reading was for me at all. As it happens, I am glad to have persevered with it and actually appreciate the journey of thought the book took me on; not through its theme but more for the linguistic tone and the way it has once again highlighted my relationship with the written word. Regardless, although it was a fairly good story, I am glad to see the back of it.

It used to be that on finishing a challenging read, I’d cleanse my palate on The Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock or another Eliot classic… seems I have a new sorbet now as my first thought on having had that hour or so of digesting the closure of the story I had just read was somewhat predictably to blast through Random Thoughts again.

But anyway – tea-break over now; time to return to work!

Ethically Challenged

I know you will have looked at the image accompanying this post and be thinking “Here we go again!” but I promise, this is not just another post about the luscious Mr Corcoran… there is a bigger issue here altogether which has really got me irked.

I set off on one of those peculiar Google journeys this morning… I wasn’t even looking for him, I promise… I was happily researching a completely unrelated topic when I saw the name pop up in a result, not a page of any consequence to my research, but today being a fairly productive one thus far I thought I deserved a little diversion… then I find myself on another search tangent, which eventually had me at this Ebay listing for Chris Corcoran's Random Thoughts:



Even those amongst you (how?) who are as yet unfamiliar with the book itself can clearly see the label: £1.99… that is all this book costs… yet this store is selling it on for a whopping £4.69.

“Fair enough,” you say, “the seller has to cover costs” – um, no actually… because firstly this seller is clearly representing a book store given the huge volume of stock he is carrying so is even making a profit by selling at £1.99. Also, his allowance of £2.99 for postage is MORE than it costs to ship from the UK to the US… I checked...and the packaging itself is going to cost pennies to someone mailing out a high volume of goods so what is the justification for blatantly ripping people off in this way? Especially given that these US buyers could easily order from Amazon for $0.68! (In itself another irritation… sixty-eight cents for all that effort! Gah!!)

The thing is it isn’t just the buyer being sold short here; whilst the prospective buyers are paying double the value of this book is anyone mailing off a cheque to Mr C in recompense for the inflated royalties? Um, doubt it!

And don’t think I am only complaining because it is this book in particular, it’s just that I noticed it because I know the book; truly, it would have irritated the crap out of me whatever book it may have been… but you will have to take me at my word on that one!

I am all for free enterprise and people being allowed to earn a living, but this really takes the piss… in a BIG way!

I mean, is it really so different to someone who buys a DVD, copies it and sells both on? The financial boost to the seller is exactly the same, yet only one is technically illegal. Time for artists to make a stand, I feel!

Fangirling Like a Crazy

I received the brilliantly funny “Random Thoughts” by Chris Corcoran last week.

It’s an amazing book, but I can’t bring myself to review it properly here. I greatly value my integrity and feel sure that anything I write about it will at the very least seem sycophantic and to be honest if you are ordering anything from Amazon (or any other online store for that matter) it’s no big deal to add another £1.99 to your order and make up your own mind!

When it arrived, I had just poured a cup of tea: I intended to read a little of the book whilst my tea was steeping and then get back to work, but ended up reading the entire thing before doing anything else (well, I did whip the teabag out of the cup between chapters and once left the book for a couple of minutes whilst I transferred some laundry from the washer to the dryer).

Today I read it for a third time and still laughed aloud as much as the first.

There is not much more I can say than that, really; mainly because I am very much in love with Mr Corcoran right now so to start trying to review anything he has touched on would just appear gushy and insincere regardless of how hard I try to remain objective.

So buy the book. As Chris says himself: “If it’s rubbish, you’ve only wasted £1.99” …. but it isn’t, so you’ll have wasted nothing!




And because I am fangirling in such a crazy-assed way at the moment, I should admit to having watched this video starring the delicious Mr Corcoran - oh and Elis James several times over the last few months - and it doesn't get any less funny!

Tony Hawks: Round Ireland with a Fridge

This book narrates the eventful journey resulting from a drunken bet made by Tony Hawks that he could circumvent Ireland by hitch-hiking alone, whilst accompanied by a fridge.

Although an old book, to not include a review here would be at best remiss; especially given my recent re-acquaintance with it.

I absolutely love Hawks style; it flows well, unfaltering from one flourish to the next, assuming a level of intellect in his reader without leaving those lacking this feeling inadequate. This is an amazing skill, making this a book for all to read.

Hawks has to be admired for his honesty and openness also; revealing his own character flaws and writing freely about his inadequacies as well as sharing his joys and successes. This in itself creates a fabulous bond between reader and author in a way few other writers of travel works have managed.

This is also a book which causes introspect for the reader; as one reads about the stealing of an opportunity, of turning a moment of drunken madness into a life-changing adventure, you can’t help but to stop for just a moment and think about all the moments wasted, the opportunities lost forever.

Funny, insightful, thought-provoking; an excellent book I am glad to have reacquired after so many years have passed.

Gardening the Brazilian Way

I think we already established that I do not need any more books, but my constant will to rescue the needy and my inability to stand by and see an injustice made me stop in my tracks when attending baby’s school summer fayre last week. In glancing at the spread of books laid out (with great care, I must say!) I was horrified to see a copy of Tony Hawks’ “Round Ireland With A Fridge”. I first read this book too long ago to pin-point and my ownership of a copy had dissolved along with the friendship of the person who borrowed it. So technically, buying this book would not be adding to my collection at all, would it? And to see this piece on a table-top sale definitely qualified for inclusion in my rescue programme, even without having filled out a needs assessment form!

Oh, but look; more books with interesting titles and brooding cover pictures; more from those countless lists of books you should have read; and so it was that the “every item 50p” stall stole another £5 from me.

I immediately wanted to re-acquaint myself with the long-since-forgotten wisdom within so bumped the book I was part-way through to make a start on it. I won’t go into a detailed review of the book itself; that is for a whole separate post, because if you haven’t read it yet, you certainly should - but I will say that I am glad to have regained this particular piece.

Re-reading is not something I take lightly. It can often go so horribly wrong, as with watching a childhood television favourite. That horrific moment you discover the naivety with which you originally experienced the volume can leave one feeling cheated, vulnerable and a little ridiculous but in this case it worked out well. In fact, having changed my entire philosophy and life perspective since, there is so much more to be gained; least of all, the synchronicity of finding this book right now with its deeper messages calling out to me, regarding taking action, living your life and doing what you want to do.

And so it was, then, that on the first day of sunshine after around eight weeks of solid summer rain I found myself taking a short break from my gardening to read a quick chapter or two whilst drinking a deserved cup of tea. Four hours later; book read, too much tea consumed and a new skin tone slightly resembling a boiled ham and I realised I hadn’t made the best use of what could well be Summer. With so few of these days, it did not do to waste them and after all, reading was something one could do just as easily indoors in the rain, whilst gardening is much harder to do from the living room.

Not that the garden is a huge concern to me. Unfortunately my neighbours lack my vision and are not at all convinced by my attempts at suburban farming. Thus they cannot see the value in creating a beautiful hayfield of my lawn. I tried selling it as an issue of conservation- that these were all meadows once and for the sake of heritage we should all adopt this attitude, to no avail; neither are they embracing it with the same middle-class ecofriendly passion reserved for cycling, Hessian shopping bags and GYO vegetables in spite of my casual throwing around of words like ecosystem and natural habitat. So having frittered away much of the sunny day and with this one clouding over as I consume more time writing this, I now appear to have created an entirely new concept.

The little I achieved yesterday was a masterpiece of lawn edging. I skirted the mower around the outer boundary of the lawn itself, strimmed and trimmed the parts where grass meets border and am left with what my teens are calling a Brazilian garden; although with a centrepiece long enough in which to lose a small child, it seems more of a European armpit garden, but that does not have quite the same ring to it!

On books...

My children often mock my quirky attitudes towards certain things, but I think yesterday even I saw the peculiar side of my actions.

I headed out for a drive and there was a book lying in the road smack in the middle of a roundabout. It was laying face up; opened with the pages blowing in the breeze; rain-sodden, tattered and dishevelled.

I felt a tug at my heart in the way one would on seeing a wounded bird lying half-dead and I have to admit that for a moment I contemplated stopping to pick it up and did actually adjust my line to avoid running it over.

I spoke out “Aw, look at that poor book!”

All three girls scoffed – even baby who is usually on my side through everything; I didn’t dare admit that I had a lump in my throat too, there would have been no clawing back any respect after that!

I am sure I am not the only person to take books this seriously?

I remember whilst watching television reports on the Chinese earthquakes of 2008 (or 09, I can’t quite remember now) seeing an image depicting a stack of books amidst the pile of rubble which represented a family’s entire life. Someone had obviously rummaged through the debris to find all the books and carefully piled them up ready for rescue. That had been one of the most poignant images for me.

I often wonder if that might be my true vocation in life; to run a book rescue centre. I have boxfuls of tattered, unloved tomes in my garage which I have claimed at the end of a table-top sale or at the closing of a car boot sale. Words which cut into me;

“if I don’t sell these all in the next ten minutes, they will be in the recycle bin tomorrow”

I paid that guy £1 for a huge box filled with books I already knew I didn’t want as I’d been browsing through them long enough.

There is a shop here in town selling used books; I go there a lot always planning to just browse - after all, I really do not need more! In spite of the fact they only charge around £2 or £3 each, I have never yet spent less than forty there, sometimes for no other reason than a particular book has been in the shop for a while and it seemed it would never have a home.

Sick and elderly books cared for here!

One to think on!

This Mitchell and Webb Book

Time to drag this blog into its purpose. I have other places to waffle about the minutia of daily life!

My purpose here is intended to be a place to talk about what it (and isn't) funny;  to share news, reviews and other relevant information.


So with that in mind, I finally finished reading "This Mitchell and  Webb Book"after starting it back in November or something. It's not that hard to read, just very hard to keep reading. Mainly because it is inevitable that at some point you need to leave it on a side-table or something and it will invariably disappear for weeks on end.

That said, I can quite categorically say that this is definitely a book to be read and enjoyed by everyone. In my house, the ages range from 8 to 45 (that's not me!!) and all had a few chuckles from it.

Highlights? Love the alternative movie posters, the Boosh section (with a fab cartoon version of Noel!), the CSI guide.
Honestly, there wasn't a page I didn't laugh aloud at and desperately want to read out to whoever was with me at the time.
The Best Bit? Page 174, obviously.

If you haven't already, buy it, read it, hide it.

A suggestion for the publishers - maybe a blank cover for subsequent editions so maybe people will leave it the hell alone!


SUMMARY:

WHO SHOULD READ THIS BOOK? Everyone (starting with the person who worked damned hard to pay for it!)
WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO READ THIS BOOK? Dead people - and librarians.... unless they were off-duty, I guess: I reckon librarians like to get noisy when they are not at work so a hearty laugh in those circumstances might be quite acceptable.