So I got bored of other people having things to do, and I got bored of writing in a diary that claimed to have shut down three times already, and I got bored of sitting before an empty window in an empty room and staring at empty pages. �I was bored�, I say, and let the moralists scrap over the cracks in my justification. I have Jean-Charles Denis on my side, and it�s not often that one can claim that. How to explain my protracted absence from Sinister.. �I was ever a misanthrope�, I remember claiming.. But you shouldn�t listen to that kind of silliness. It�s the kind of thing I say in an attempt to make friends. For one whose life takes the form of a succession of skits based around the theme of old jazz standards, it is dangerous to linger on descriptions and anecdotes as a basis for common ground.. It is dangerous to pinpoint moments of clarity and eloquence and place these at the heart of relationships. It is dangerous to do anything but shake hands now and again and say �how do you do?� and then lapse into a silence of broken glasses and late night discos. I began writing a book instead, and became scared that people would read it. One of you might have profited had I retained my willpower in that respect, and I regret too much to say more. I sat up until the wee small hours instead, reading. In the whole of North London, only one bedroom light was still visible as I finished.. �One other and I seeing out the darkness�, I thought. �Only one other. And I bet they�re not reading Dostoyevsky!� That�s what I thought. I began to hatch plans instead, more in hope than expectation. But hatching plans, I discovered, is very different from having ideas. Plans presuppose action on my part, a pushing against circumstance, an idea plus friction. Hatching plans is a dangerous business too, and you know I try to stay away from that kind of thing, like moths to a flame. We shall move away from London in a few weeks now. That was the plan, the plan I crept along with, when I wasn�t speaking to you. Still, we muddle along with our own jobs and our own lives and everything in London seems to have seconds ticking away on the face of it. A countdown. I used to write songs about countdowns, about the time until the future starts or until the past stops. The songs were just ideas, and bad ones at that. But a plan is a good thing. All plans are good if they come to fruition. Some of you I might see in Glasgow. It would be a delight. And it�s not often that one can claim that. Nicholas Passant x ===== ------------------------------------------ The <passantconsiderable@cwctv.net> account is now defunct. All replies here, or to <npassant@hotmail.com>. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! Health - your guide to health and wellness http://health.yahoo.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+