Instead, it is due to forgetfulness.
I'm not a machine. A memory machine. I have faults and failings, like any other person. Well OK, I have fewer faults and failings than 94% of all other people. But I have them nonetheless.
An event will occur, or an occurrence will event, and I'll think: "Hey [I often address myself in this casual a way - and in this causal a way] Paul! There's a blog entry in that". And I'm all like: "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You're not the boss of me!".
And I come back all mad and shit, like: "I AM the boss of you! I am you! If you're not the boss of yourself, who is? The MAN? Tony Blairs?". And then I flick the Vs and get back on my skateboard.
That's how it happens.
But sometimes, I'll think "Oh. Actually that would be a good thing to write about. Certainly better than an imagined internal dialogue where I'm both petulant and retarded."
And then I'll be all like: "Really Paul, we both know that the use of the word 'retarded' there is unnecessary and offensive. It's a lazy comedy cliché that's disrespectful to those with mental disability."
But I'll offer the rejoinder: "You're right. I dislike the use of that word in any context. BUT: 1) I found the linguistic juxtaposition of 'petulant' and 'retarded' to be a pleasant one, and no other substitute was quite as good, and 2) By introducing your criticism of the term (in some second, more responsible inner-voice), I get to write it anyway, and yet still come across as self-aware and politically correct, with a dollop of postmodern analysis on top. I get to have my retarded cake and eat it. Like a spastic."
And then I'm all like: "Well, you've just undermined your own point with that last bit. Unless you think that the crudity of it will undercut the self-indulgence and pretension of the previous section".
And I'm all: "Yes. That's exactly what I'm doing. I'm brilliant."
And I agree.
So here are some things I meant to write about ages ago, but never got around too.
They are:
A: A hilarious analysis of an erroneous regional newspaper headline
and
B: An anecdote about a bleeding pensioner.
***
A hilarious analysis of an erroneous regional newspaper headline
Chronologically, this should have come somewhere in the middle of this post.
We were driving up to Edinburgh (and by "we" I mean "Jon") and stopped off in an odd little town somewhere just around the Scottish border. It was small and had sweet shops and strange local people shuffling about in the rain. I'm sure it was nice really, but the journey had been long and disorienting, and it seemed like a limbo town of some sort.
Whilst stretching my legs and my anxiety, I looked at a newspaper board. I do this all the time now, because it has yielded previous gold. Well, I say gold. It's usually silver. But rarely worse than bronze.
You may remember classics such as:
BURGLER
CAUGHT IN
'HONEYTRAP'
HOUSE
CAUGHT IN
'HONEYTRAP'
HOUSE
Well, the sodden advert for The Berwick Advertiser has a new offering to add to that illustrious list:
'Revenge'
Attack On
Chicken
Coup
As you can probably already tell, there are a few things that I like about this headline.
The first thing I like is the sheer rurality of it. I don't know if 'rurality' is a word, but I'm going to use it anyway.
If you turn up in a town in the middle of nowhere, and have slight Wicker Man-suspicions of the inhabitants, this is exactly the kind of headline to confirm your doubts.
Oxford isn't a big city by any means, but we rarely have headlines relating to poultry housing.
What was the story? I should have bought a paper, but never remember to. Maybe it would ruin the magic of the headline.
I imagine it's some kind of farmer rivalry. A dispute escalated into property damage. These farm feuds can get quite nasty sometimes. You send one of ours to the hospital, we send one of yours to the morgue. You dent one of the legs of one of our milking stools, we smash the shit out of your chicken coop.
Which brings us to the second thing.
Chicken coup.
Not chicken coop.
Chicken coup.
Ahaha, another typo! Well spotted, Paul! You've never done a typo in your blog!
It is a good one though, even though I'm struggling to work dove calls into the scenario. I imagine a chicken coup would be difficult. An organised military uprising against a governing power requires a level of planning and subterfuge that is, quite frankly, beyond the power of most livestock. [INSERT CLEVER ANIMAL FARM REFERENCE HERE]
The chickens rose up - presumably against the farmer - only to be subject to a revenge attack. Not a counter-revolution, or a reasserting of legitimate authority, but a revenge attack. It seems a bit petty. Like punching Fidel Castro in the face. But I imagine it would still be quite satisfying.
Like punching Fidel Castro in the face.
And snapping his cigar in half.
Even though I imagine he's quite old now, probably in a hospital bed, clinging to life - his revolutionary blood, once coursing fiercely through his veins, now inching sluggishly to its end; the once appropriately vivid red, now fading to pastel blue.
If I punched him now, I think it would be difficult for me to claim the moral highground.
But my favourite bit of the headline is, as usual, the punctuation.
It was a 'revenge' attack. Not a revenge attack. 'Revenge'.
And this is entirely correct. You need those little inverted commas. Because revenge is a subjective thing. You can never definitively say whether something is revenge. You might think that evidence points to an action being the consequence of a previous action, but revenge suggests a certain mindset.
As a journalist, you can't expect to know someone's mind, be they farmer, chicken, or Fidel Castro.
Just to confirm: I think it's highly unlikely that Castro orchestrated this chicken coup, and/or subsequent revenge (or 'revenge') activities.
But don't rule it out.
That reminds me of a joke I've just invented:
Did you here the one about the guy whose speciality was treating unconscious patients by hanging them upside down?
He was a doctor (in inverted comas).
That doesn't work written down, does it?
Or said out loud.
Or even thought.
***
This has been longer than expected. I think I'd better leave it there.
I'll do:
B: An anecdote about a bleeding pensioner.
on another occasion.
If I remember.
But I'm not a machine.
'Revenge' Attack On
Chicken
Coup
As you can probably already tell, there are a few things that I like about this headline.
The first thing I like is the sheer rurality of it. I don't know if 'rurality' is a word, but I'm going to use it anyway.
If you turn up in a town in the middle of nowhere, and have slight Wicker Man-suspicions of the inhabitants, this is exactly the kind of headline to confirm your doubts.
Oxford isn't a big city by any means, but we rarely have headlines relating to poultry housing.
What was the story? I should have bought a paper, but never remember to. Maybe it would ruin the magic of the headline.
I imagine it's some kind of farmer rivalry. A dispute escalated into property damage. These farm feuds can get quite nasty sometimes. You send one of ours to the hospital, we send one of yours to the morgue. You dent one of the legs of one of our milking stools, we smash the shit out of your chicken coop.
Which brings us to the second thing.
Chicken coup.
Not chicken coop.
Chicken coup.
Ahaha, another typo! Well spotted, Paul! You've never done a typo in your blog!
It is a good one though, even though I'm struggling to work dove calls into the scenario. I imagine a chicken coup would be difficult. An organised military uprising against a governing power requires a level of planning and subterfuge that is, quite frankly, beyond the power of most livestock. [INSERT CLEVER ANIMAL FARM REFERENCE HERE]
The chickens rose up - presumably against the farmer - only to be subject to a revenge attack. Not a counter-revolution, or a reasserting of legitimate authority, but a revenge attack. It seems a bit petty. Like punching Fidel Castro in the face. But I imagine it would still be quite satisfying.
Like punching Fidel Castro in the face.
And snapping his cigar in half.
Even though I imagine he's quite old now, probably in a hospital bed, clinging to life - his revolutionary blood, once coursing fiercely through his veins, now inching sluggishly to its end; the once appropriately vivid red, now fading to pastel blue.
If I punched him now, I think it would be difficult for me to claim the moral highground.
But my favourite bit of the headline is, as usual, the punctuation.
It was a 'revenge' attack. Not a revenge attack. 'Revenge'.
And this is entirely correct. You need those little inverted commas. Because revenge is a subjective thing. You can never definitively say whether something is revenge. You might think that evidence points to an action being the consequence of a previous action, but revenge suggests a certain mindset.
As a journalist, you can't expect to know someone's mind, be they farmer, chicken, or Fidel Castro.
Just to confirm: I think it's highly unlikely that Castro orchestrated this chicken coup, and/or subsequent revenge (or 'revenge') activities.
But don't rule it out.
That reminds me of a joke I've just invented:
Did you here the one about the guy whose speciality was treating unconscious patients by hanging them upside down?
He was a doctor (in inverted comas).
That doesn't work written down, does it?
Or said out loud.
Or even thought.
***
This has been longer than expected. I think I'd better leave it there.
I'll do:
B: An anecdote about a bleeding pensioner.
on another occasion.
If I remember.
But I'm not a machine.
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