A funny dream last night. Mostly it was guided by a Grand Theft Auto narrative. It was one of those dreams where you’re both observer and participant, both experiencing it and commenting on it. It was exciting and a bit scary. Towards the end, though, it skipped to me watching (or reading about, or both) ...
A nice little piece in the LA Times about Will Self walking in Los Angeles. LAX to Watts is a significant endeavour. I’ve done it by bus a few times and even that takes a couple of hours. It reminded me of a day I walked from the outskirts of London into the West End. ...
A trip to Westwood Village to see Eastern Promises sparked a conversation — over Pinkberry frozen yogurt (with strawberries and raspberries) — during which I tried to describe to A. the viscerally unpleasant reaction I have to films which portray the unrelentingly grim realities of life. The connection is a little unfair to ...
Some post-Shadow Lane thoughts, in no particular order or coherence. At this September’s party I felt more comfortable than I have before; more of a sense of being inside looking out than outside looking in. I’m sure that’s mostly just an effect of familiarity with the grammar of these events, and also ...
Standing in Barnes & Noble (“Will you be saving ten percent with our discount card today?” trills the girl at the till over and over) at the corner of 3rd Street and Wilshire in Santa Monica, reading through the new Michael Palin diaries. I’m struck by how often something depresses him, and how ...
I find that I don’t actually know what ‘R.I.P.’ means. It’s splashed everywhere today before or after Kurt Vonnegut’s name — along with enough lazily glib trottings-out of ‘So it goes’ to dull the senses. But what do people actually mean when they say ‘Rest in Peace’, ...
Some thoughts about Children of Men (and some spoilers, so caveat lector), which I eventually saw today – though the lateness of things didn’t seem to hurt: the cinema was virtually empty and the print was more than fine. I came out – after listening to Jarvis Cocker singing about cunts still running the ...
Walking along Wilshire in Santa Monica, iPod earphones quite conspicuously in ears, almost as if I might be listening to music. Waiting at light to cross 7th Street. Man: [Looking at me, mouth opening and closing as he says something. Clearly no clue I can’t hear him.] Me: [Takes off earphones, an expression of mild ...
In one of my lives I sometimes review short stories. Something I’ve become aware that I do is this: when I think something’s no good, or just okay, I’ll squeeze out as much positive as I can, so long as it’s honest; when something’s good — especially if it’s written by someone I know has ...
[Following up Annie’s rant about parents and video games.] I have a slightly different, and maybe more liberal, take. I completely agree that parents have absolutely no right to complain about what their kids are watching/playing, if they haven’t taken some responsibility for that. However, I think often when ...