Just so you all know- sunrise today was 5:22am. I know this because it happened 5 hours and 22 minutes into my coach journey to the airport. I have been spectacularly bored and this is the first break from the tedium of darkness. I’ve been awake since 10am yesterday. By the time I get to JFK I will have been up for 32 hours. Hopefully I’ll kip on the plane.
Gonna be in New York at some bizarre time tomorrow. Quite excited. Packed my case, put 5 copies of my book in. I still can’t really explain why. Maybe i’ll chat up some hot poetry loving waitress and give her one (a book) as a present. Then we will get married and i’ll get citizenship and move there and become the next Christopher Hitchens and pigs will fly and this is a poor sentence.
I’ll try post a bit about my trip but i’ll probably be fairly quiet.
On March 2nd all the biggest and brightest names in the world of film assembled for the 86th Academy Awards. All of them, that is, except for a few notable exceptions.
Yes, dear reader, we were overlooked again! The Academy once again besmirched the honour of the greatest assembly of acting and writing talent that a small village in Suffolk has ever produced! Featuring the acting talents of Chester “Loudest and Most Frequently Gesticulating Man 2014” Curtis, the subtle latino charms of writer/director/editor/producer/actor Will McDaniel and yours truly in an intensely understated supporting role, Ripped Film’s omission from ANY of the voting categories was, frankly, as baffling as the structure of this sentence. With all of the explosive special effects you would expect from a 70’s action B movie, the restrained and thought provoking plot reminiscent of Steven Seagal’s more recent work and several unnecessary and gratuitous shots of slightly out of shape hairy men in underwear and body stockings, Ripped Films was many critics’ pick for Best Picture:
“Yeah, sure it was good alright now let me watch Corrie”
“What are you wearing stockings for lads, I thought you stopped this fannying around ten years ago?”
“Has anyone seen my tights, I bought a new pack the other day and can’t find them anywhere?”
“Stop dressing the dogs up, it confuses them”
Perhaps even more outrageous was Jared Leto’s victory in the category of Best Supporting Actor. Putting in the sort of performance that led my high school drama teacher to write “Daniel tries really hard and he is good at writing, howev…” and coping extraordinarily well with cameraman Alex’s decision to use 5ft 7 Chester as the guide for the frame (leading to my head being cropped out fairly often) I felt at the very least that Mr Leto would be giving me a piggyback up the steps to collect my prize.
Pah, next time!
As a condition for sharing Ripped Films, which is “ruined by one of the actors” (he declined to name which one), Will has made me promise to show you this short film which he says is far better (but oddly doesn’t feature me, I mean…I was available for it I think but for some reason I didn’t get a text all weekend?).
Oh and apparently he’s found another useless, lanky cretin for his next movie but if you could subscribe to his Youtube channel willmcd87: http://bit.ly/1qtM26P he promised he might find a role for me in future.
If glass hearts shatter and
Scatter, cascading rippling rays of red light
We’ll still have these to hold onto
These memories, this night
In our convalescence we taste the essence
Succulent and distilled
Into something purer;
In essence and in a sense
It is more and less than either of us
Could hope for and far rarer
And longer living than long nights
Between sweat stained sheets
Wrestling with the wonder of
Who, what, where, when and why me
Wallowing in regret and banking on
The misery of waking up alone and
Longing, lusting for a catheter
Shot full of ecstatic adrenaline
That drips out and dissipates
Far quicker than they ever said that
It would or that it could or
That ever happened in any picture
Pasted up on the screen, screaming
Loudly that waking the neighbours is
What we should all aim for
Maybe they’re wrong
I’d trade it all for a quiet life
And consistent company with someone
Who constantly leaves me breathless
Dewy eyed with wide irises
And that little skipping somersault
In my stomach
In moonlight and beneath skies
Where stars shiner brighter than you’ve
Noticed before yet sit dulled by
The defiance of the silent shout of the
Beauty that stands before you
I have self published two collections of poetry. They are available from the following stockists for £4 each:
Alternatively the books can be mailed within the UK for £4 each plus £1 postage (UK mainland only). Payment should be sent via Paypal to firstname.lastname@example.org ensuring that delivery address and any necessary information is included.
Well, that was very business like. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll post some more nonsense about cat poop soon enough.