Bill Bailey's Dream

Some quick optical illusions:

a pig at a distance

.

a tree in the shape of a question mark

?

many pies stacked behind a big 1

1

a white bracket (viewed from the inside)

Great. Now we're all relaxed, I can get cooking and cracking.

But I can't get crooking, or a judge might send me to an all-male prison.

I've been angry for most of today, and with no good reason. I'm generally not an angry person. I have quite a long temper. I try to avoid potentially angering situations. I don't watch the X-Factor. I don't have any children. I don't drink Rageade.

But sometimes the anger will find a way out. I can't express it easily. We don't have a punching bag in the office, and I don't like calling attention to myself with grunts or under-the-breath rants. I sometimes swear in a tweet, which is a clear sign of my mood. But I usually apologise, or brush it under the carpet with all the other profane dust.

I saw on the television programme QI that it might not be good to release your anger after all, as you come to associate it with feeling good.

So I'm blogging my way out of the mire. This is me letting off steam (amongst other things).

Here are some things that I HATE:

1) Air Jugglers - anyone can do that, you idiot
2) Those bins that have no bottoms - rubbish EVERYWHERE
3) Any television programme with an exclamation mark in the title
4) My "evil" finger
5) Cars with no compassion lights, or with broken compassion lights
6) An insulting statue of me on a friend's desk
7) Poison
8) This list
9) The fact that I've done similar lists before
10) The fact that in those lists, I've done similar meta-comments on how much I hate the lists before
11) Liszt

This blog post is like a parody of my own back: of interest to no-one but me, and annoying to everyone (including me). A back isn't even a worthy target for parody. Even mine, which can certainly be pompous at times. You're supposed to parody public figures, well known events or objects, ridiculous ideas.

You can't parody a back.

There isn't enough material to work with.

I mean, my back is big, but it doesn't have any elements that can be skewered (though of course literally it could and will be).

The front of the torso is much better. You could parody my front. I've got nipples and a belly button and some hair. My back is BORING.

Even if you did want to parody my back - what would it achieve?

It's not like my back plays a prominent role in public life. There aren't a bunch of po-faced back enthusiasts that need taking down a peg or two. No-one cares about my back.

A parody of my back is FUCKING POINTLESS. Even John Culshaw wouldn't go near it.

Anyway, that's what this blog post is like. It's also discussing what it's like, which is terrible.

This blog post - this one right here - is why the world is the way it is. This blog post is the ruin of civilisation. The fact that valuable time and valuable bandwidth is being taken up by this is an insult to everyone who has ever died in a war or branch of PC World.

I mean, what was that whole 'back' thing about? Even I don't know. And I'm the one writing this. If I don't understand it, why would ANYONE find this interesting. Why?

I hate what's happening. I hate it, but I can't stop it. Because I'm angry. And I'm a masochist. And this is my punching bag.

And I'm going to post this. Even though it's embarrassing. I don't have to. I could just delete it. But I'm not going to. Why? I wouldn't invite you to watch me work out, would I? I wouldn't invite you to peer at me whilst I'm pounding the heavy bag.

But you're looking at this. Are you happy? You make me sick.

I've made you sick, and now you're sick, which is making me sick. I'm sick of both of us, but especially you.

But especially me.

***

It's later now. I'm more tired, but less angry.

I am going to post this. I am. But maybe I'll try to add some value to it before doing so. I don't like the idea of wasting your time in this way. I like to waste it in new and different ways.

I wonder how long I'll be writing this blog for. Will I be doing similar lists/list complaints in twenty years? That would either be good or sad or both.

I'll come back later. Things will be different then. My hair will be slightly longer.

***

It's much later now. We walked home and I bought some chicken kievs because of indecision.

The spell-check wants me to capitalise "kievs", but I won't.

I went to sleep for an hour and a half and now I feel... not better necessarily. But not worse. And it probably takes a while to get normal after being asleep.

I had strange dreams.

Actually, that's not true. They were standard for dreams.

Today, the comedian Bill Bailey tweeted:

Had strange dream about sleeping in a field that was inside a house..i only had a bit of cheese last night.

That's not that strange, is it Bill? By the standard of dreams, I mean.

Most of Bill Bailey's real-life experiences are stranger than that.

People always tell you their dreams are strange, but that's just what dreams are. It's not notable if they're strange. It's like someone excitedly telling you that they had a round orange.

So when I was asleep just now, I had dreams. Which were strange, as you'd expect, being dreams.

I was asleep just now and had a series of tautologies.

But some of them actually made sense. Occasionally, my unconscious self comes up with some good material. And if you go back and read the early part of this blog - something I am NOT going to do - you might think my creative faculties are only impeded by me being awake.

I dreamt a comic strip of a pair of Hardy Boys-style child detectives called The Nazi Twins. At one stage, they got tied up, but were able to escape because their arms were so strong from all the Heiling.

I doubt that could happen in real life. But it was a fictional comic strip, in a dream, so isn't confined by natural laws or arm physics.

I'm cold now. I might have a shower. Wash the day off myself. And scrub the more pernicious minutes off with some kind of time brush, or hour scourer.

***

It's later now.

It would be weird if it was suddenly earlier. I suppose I could have written this at lunchtime, and just put all that other stuff about dreams and Nazis in later.

Though me mentioning it now screws up the chronology.

Maybe I wrote all of this in 2008. Is there anything that would make that impossible?

The Bill Bailey tweet, I suppose. Of course, he could be in on it.

And that thing I saw on QI. But Bill Bailey's on that too. It would certainly be a long term strategy, and would yield insignificant fruit.

I probably am writing this now. It is later. And is even later than when I first said it was.

I feel better now. I've got some kiev inside me. (I've eaten it - there's no funny business)

I should probably draw this to a close.

Ha. I drew those words. There was a double meaning.

Anyway, sorry about all this. I hope you've found something in here to have made it worthwhile.