Ears

I've spent the past week under the watery daze of post-viral fatigue. A middle ear infection (how the hell did I get that?) has been plaguing me for about ten days. I've been having the most extraordinary dreams, needing to rest for a whole day if I go for a short walk, and have had the concentration of a mayfly.

I've been able to read crappy crime novels from the charity shop, and strangely enough I've started to write songs again, though I've no idea if they are any good or not.

Most things, I'm shunting forward week on week because I haven't got the concentration to do them.

This has happened before, about fifteen years ago, so I recognise the weird state. 

Peculiar things penetrate my consciousness: peculiar things like the odious Russell Brand who was never funny, and who was always repulsively creepy. From a long distance away, I watch what is happening and with resignation, remember the preponderance of People Like Him who have crossed my own path. There should be a stronger word than misogyny for his type, because they are intent on humiliating and destroying women as though we have no purpose or existence, apart from being vessels for men like that doing things like that to us.

Anyway, let's not dwell on the dark side! I have been burrowing through my archive and found all sorts of interesting things. Some photographs seem to have vanished without a trace though.

I've looked everywhere for decent Chefs recordings for the vinyl album we're going to bring out next year on Damaged Goods, and have found all I'm going to find. That will enter the pipeline as soon as I get more energy. 

I found all sorts of interesting DAT tapes which I'll have to get made into WAVs; things like my MA project Herms (like Hymns, only the Her version), which I could release if I can find a DAT player that doesn't eat up the tape like mine does.

That's enough for now.