6353/19273
At least three more weeks. We are (at best) halfway through. How you coping? I am surprisingly OK with it so far and even more surprisingly not yet driven insane by the incarceration or by the mind-bending stuff I am putting out on Twitch. But if ever I was going to meet the fate of the man who pretended to be mentally ill to get out of Colditz and then became unhinged as a result, it will be now, won't it? Talking to stones, creating a stone based religion full of little ceremonies that need to be carried out daily lest it means something terrible happens, dividing myself into 32 “personalities†to play snooker against myself… I guess if I had gone off the deep end I would still believe that I hadn't. But when the real world is so surreal then it's hard to beat that in the comfort of your own home.
The pump has arrived for the paddling pool, but the paddling pool definitely has a leak in it, which explains why my huffing and puffing (and effing and jeffing) made no impact. It's a small enough leak that when fully blown up the pool is operational for a few hours, but overnight it deflates like an old man's erection which never got fully engorged in any case. I imagine.
Everything in unraveling. Will anything be the same again?
My guess is we might look back at the calm of lockdown as an idyll compared with what will come afterwards. I can't imagine there won't be social unrest, especially if the lunatics who rule us insist on doing a Brexit as well.
Here's me at 20 (must be within days both of my birthday and also the famous wanking ventriloquist dummy incident). It's good to see that I have moved on and am not still using the same prop 32 years later (though Ally hasn't aged in all that time). I had had a skinhead for a play a few months before this, which was just growing out.
Would I swap places with that young man who has only had sex half a time in his life?
We watched the first episode of Quiz tonight, which aside from having a bit of ITV style exposition in the dialogue is a riveting watch. I met the Ingrams back in (I want to say) 2004 when I was doing my poker chat show “Heads Up With Richard Herring†though can't remember too much about it, beyond a feeling that I riled the Major a little bit with my insistence that he was guilty. Did I try to get him to confess? The drama is sympathetic to them, but regardless of the truth (that they did cheat) the revelations about the quizzing community managing to manipulate their way on to the show and colluding with techniques to do so is fascinating. It's amazing that no one really seemed to pick up on the fact that people were getting on four times and that three members of the same family had got to the hot seat. It weirdly reminded me of the cracking of the Enigma code in some ways, because Celador were foolish enough to ask the same nearest number question over and over again, just like the Nazis would use the same letters to set their machines every day. I am not saying that Celador are Nazis. That's for other people to say.
Looking forward to catching up with the rest of this and great work from RHLSTP alumni Michael Sheen and Aisling Bea too.
