Friday 29 March 2013

Bewitched

There was a woman on the train to Milton Keynes. Well there were several, but there was one specific one sat in front of me on the train and she was watching something all the way down on her tablet. She watched about five episodes of the 1960s witchcraft comedy Bewitched. The woman was younger than me.

This isn’t the greatest anecdote ever but you know how really clever dramas have seemingly insignificant things happen? And they come back to have some MAJOR significance in a later story? Well. Just…..that…think on.

Reading the Paper

I read the Guardian’s website in an unconventional way today on the train to Milton Keynes. I read a very small element of it from about midnight last night; I read it not on a laptop or an iPad. I read it on paper. Yes, I read the paper. The worst part about reading a newspaper is reading all the proper news, which I do dip into on the website but feel like I have to give more time to when I have the paper. Proper news has the silent ‘bad’ at the front of it. With leftie rags like The Guardian you also get things like this which ensure that you will feel frustrated as fuck with what is happening to the country by the time you have finished reading it.

I also read about BBC News putting the wrong caption under a South African civil servant. The caption labelled him ‘gay marriage’ rather than his name, Rufus Lekala. Acccording to the Guardian:

Lunga Ngcobo, a spokeswoman, told South Africa’s Times newspaper: “We understood that it was a mistake. But we have asked [the] BBC to explain how this happened. We want them to get the facts correct. We think it’s a similar mistake that often happens [with] other media houses. But they apologised after [being] alerted about the error.”

I don’t know what they want here…well I do, but what they want seems to involve time travel and/or not having made a mistake that has been made. The nature of cause and effect suggests that the BBC do not have this ability or this article is not needed. Or they do have the ability to do it and this is just some shit alternate universe where they don’t have the ability.

Of all the wanks infinite universes to be existing in: we get to be in the one where a glitch in a BBC news graphic gets into the national press.

A Notaphor

One evaluation of where I am as a human being: when I visit people’s homes I find myself envying their hand wash. It smells nicer than mine. It has a better name. It says it does something on the bottle that mine doesn’t (“now with 12% extra wing cleanser”).

It’s easy to say that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence but I don’t know what green looks like so greener is either meaningless to me – or means something different to what it means to other people. Just be more careful when using a grass/green/jealousy metaphor to people who don’t have/have a distorted view of the concept of green-ness.

Regardless of my colour blindness, I clearly having an issue with coveting other people’s handwash – and by extension undervaluing my own hand wash. How many hand washes can a man have before he realises that it’s washing your hands that is important and not what the handwash smells like. In my flat there are three different hand washes: one in the kitchen and one in each of the two bathrooms. THREE HANDWASHES. And what do I think when I see a hand wash in someone’s bathroom? I wish I had this hand wash, that’s what I think.

THIS ISN’T EVEN A SHALLOW METAPHOR FOR ANYTHING: I REALLY DO HAVE A PANG OF JEALOUSY WHEN SOMEONE HAS REALLY GOOD HAND WASH. AND THINK HOW RUBBISH SOME OF THE HAND WASH IS IN MY OWN HOME.

NB I am NEVER jealous of the hand wash in public toilets, even ones in nice hotels.

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