Saturday, January 10, 2009

An Amusement (VII)

For some reason, since returning from my holidays I've had little to no enthusiasm for writing. Whether it's the sub-zero temperatures, the depression/rage brought on by the unrelentingly grim news, the burst water pipe that knocked out our heating system for several days, or just my usual slothfulness, I'm not sure (and the probable answer is "all of the above") but the thought of sitting down with my notebook and trying to construct a coherent, let alone a sparkling or witty, sentence fills me with a profound aversion. I suddenly remember that spot of grease in the kitchen that urgently requires cleaning. It can't wait, even for a second! I'd love to start scribbling, but it won't clean itself! And that tiniest of smears will not only spread and transform our kitchen into a fetid pigsty, but will, if left untended, germinate a plague that could wipe out the population of the country! I need bleach! Where's the goddamn bleach?!
So it goes: to avoid writing, excuses pile on top of excuses until the whole house gleams with an unearthly light and the kitchen is so surgically wiped that you could see your reflection in every grape in the fruit bowl, and eat a raw egg off the inside of the dustbin lid. And I'm left at the end of it feeling exhausted and dissatisfied, knowing that the computer is sitting out there in the office waiting for me, taunting me, like a wrestler flexing his muscles and cracking wise about my momma.
I could write about Cambridge and Ely Cathedral and Sutton Hoo, but I don't feel up to the challenge of communicating the beauty and darkness of these places. I could write about The Wire, the TV show I've become addicted to since before Xmas, but I'm not really sure what to say, except "it's like, uh, really good, y'know?". I could tell you about the delights of climbing onto my roof at eleven at night, after travelling since six in the morning, and watching water pour out of a split in a copper pipe down the side of the house, but I haven't the energy to work it into an amusing anecdote for your entertainment.
Please forgive this tedious rambling, and as a reward for having sat through it, here's some really interesting music that I found on the internet. Out of curiosity, once the first video starts playing you should look away immediately, then try to guess in what year (or decade) this song was recorded (the video lets you know practically immediately, thus spoiling the fun). I'd also like to say that neither video is connected to the original artists in any way bar using their photographs. And, when I've shaken myself out of my lethargy, normal blogging (if such a description can really be applied to my little doodles) should resume.


9 comments:

websupport said...

Oh, i remember the 'i'll do anything so i don't have to sit and write this damn article' feeling well my love...i even cleaned my car once.

Great blog - we'll be over to see you soon xxxxxxxxxxxxx

websupport said...

That was me - Karen! - i can't figure this bloody thing out...hang on.

A Doubtful Egg said...

One more syllable and that last comment would have been a haiku...
Yes, dragging my loathsome self out to the office is definitely less pressing than mundane household chores (and my car has its NCT (read MOT) soon, so I probably should clean ... damn, you've put the idea in my head! I'll never get anything done until the car is waxed and gleaming!) Love, Doubtful.

fustar said...

It's hard to get away with "writing about writing" posts but, Lo and behold, you've pulled it off. That in itself should cheer you up!

My advice: listen to some of the unconventional soundscapes you're fond of. That'll loosen those tight writing muscles right up (or down).

A Doubtful Egg said...

Thanks for that. I've been on a strict diet of Morphogenesis's murky and subterranean Stromatolites, Stockhausen's Sternklang (music "for the sinking of the individual into the cosmic whole" as the great man himself described it) and Pauline Oliveros's brilliant electronic music from the sixties, with occasional injections of Aube's Substructural Penetrations (hideous metallic noise from Japan). I'm also wallowing in doses of Laura Nyro, like a herbal bath, when I need a soak in more romantic fare. It's not all Hideous Rackets at Chez Doubtful! Whether such a cure will reawaken the Joys of Text is another matter, of course, but hope springs internal. I should take inspiration from Grimace's empowering, can-do spirit (if only I had a lime-green car!) (If this provokes head-scratching for any readers, get thee to Fustar's blog for clarification (and mirth galore))

Claudia said...

This was worth waiting for...Had a few chuckles with the second video...Was quite amazed at the recording dates...Way ahead in originality, novelty and talent...

Writing this before I brushed my teeth. Hard sometimes to decide what's the most important, essential things to do:))))))))))

A Doubtful Egg said...

It's quite a shame that these particular individuals didn't make more music together, and I must get a copy of both this album and whatever others White Noise released (yet another item to add to my endlessly unfurling "To Do" list - I still have to listen to a whole heap of music I got while on holidays, which, as well as the works listed in the comment above yours, includes four hours of Morton Feldman, Conlon Nancarrow, David Tudor, Elisabeth Lutyens, and Milton Babbitt (I listened to his Ensembles for Synthesiser recently, based on your recommendation: excellent stuff!))
I hope the New Year is treating you well. Our house is currently turned upside-down as we're overhauling our antiquated heating system; there's bits of pipes, bolts, and tools everywhere, the floorboards have been pulled up in places, and the hound is wearing a perpetually hunted look from all the noise and to-ing and fro-ing. No wonder I can't concentrate...
Thanks for the comment (And dental hygiene should always take priority!)

Stan said...

Delia Derbyshire was one of the great electronic pioneers. I'd love to have worked with her in the Radiophonic Workshop in the 1960s!

Writing about not writing is a good way to short-circuit the block, and you do it well. The important thing is to not give yourself a hard time about it.

A Doubtful Egg said...

She was a pioneer, and is sadly under-appreciated.