Sinister: A Half-Life Disappears Today

[P F]

Some mails to sinister have been awful long lately. I
thought I would do the same, just to make sure that
Captain Marvel doesn't read my post. That would never
do. It insults him several times, for one thing.

For once, though not for the first time, I intend to
spend a mail (and I mean Spend - this stuff's
expensive) 'replying' to what people have said.

I was surprised to see the mysterious 'Astrid'
informing us that she was going to write a 'boring'
post. I'd thought her incapable of such a thing. And I
still do. Don't I? In the event it was so exciting, I
received it twice.

'Astrid' mentioned that she was thinking of getting
Chu stickers and the like. This feels like one of the
worst ideas I have seen in a lifetime of bad ideas. If
you can't see why, perhaps you will someday.

After a conversation on licensed premises the other
night, I was practically, though not theoretically,
touched by the mail from Desmond, who followed great
chunks of text by thanking my editor for showing him
the way home. Yes - touched. I like the name 'Desmond'
too. Where did you get it?

The Kids these days are so young that they could
probably be named after Desmond Lynam. There's a
thought. Another is that Desmond must mean 'of the
world[s]' or something thereabouts.

I noted a poignancy in the way that the farewell from
Stout was swiftly followed by one from Narrow.

These farewells I find sad: I always cry at, etc.
(Content.) Not many beat that of my editor, which I
remember to this day. Sabre-tooth tigers and Emile
Heskey, mes braves, that kind of thing. See, I
remember it to this day, though not yesterday. Stout's
and Narrow's could hardly be in that class, but they
still bore the innate poignancy of the form. I feel
that they will be back. Possibly it will take that ace
footballer geezer 'Ben Apps' to run off and drag them
back, as he seems to have a yen to do.

Lllaura Lllew posted about bookshops. The best
bookshops are ones that charge a pound per book, of
course. I took my editor in one once, and he found the
very book he was looking for. This is true, though
it's so improbable I almost think it isn't.

It's a good thing I missed that fabulous picnic. This
Radio1 lass might have asked me, the pinefox, about
Belle&Sebastian, and then where would her 'fans'
programme have been?

Having missed the picnic, I managed to get to a
different park the other day. Water pistols in
Knightsbridge, as Joe Strummer used to say in an early
draft. I was knocked backwards by the fantastic (I use
the word in his 'fantasy' sense) opulence of the
district; or if you prefer, the vicinity. I avoided
falling into the path of a passing taxi, though, and
spent a long time seeking the kids on the grass. It
was very Henry Green, trés Liz Bowen. I saw a
motorbike helmet, which turned out to be wearing Mark
Casarotto.

I digest, I mean, digress. I also saw the film THE
IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST the other day. Why, asks
David Thomson, is there only the one film? He's a
point. He praised Dorothy Tutin, who was indeed a
succulent gamine; but I still think that the palm for
ingenuity and intrigue must go to Joan Greenwood for
the way her voice suggested silliness and
understanding (a very Wildean combination, maybe) at
once.

Look, I have found this about her on the www:

>>> It was the voice that set her apart. Husky,
plummy, sexy. It cut through her essential gentility
and made her seem like a woman of the world even when
she was playing it innocent. In one of the most
memorable cinema quotes, Karel Reisz described her
speaking her lines "as if she dimly suspected some
hidden menace in them which she can't quite identify".
>>>

It also says,

>>> 
With glowing skin and cheek-bones to die for, she
photographed beautifully. Unlike many beautiful
actresses she could deliver wonderful performances.
>>>

Cor!

After watching the film I had to listen to 'Frankly,
Mr Shankly' and try to make the connections.

I felt it was an Event when Alasdair96 posted the
other day. His post was right next to Llew's, too - a
double event. I feel that the timehas arrived when I
must reply to him.

>>> Happy birthday Sinister! It is today isn't it?

I don't know. Who says?

>>> My girlfriend told me to write this. She also told
me to write that she told me to write this.

She told me that you were not into vegetables. But she
didn't tell me to write it.

>>> I particularly liked the one that mentioned Ken
Chu, however the person who sent it seemed to make an
error, as it appeared 131 times in my inbox.

Devastating.

>>> I jest. I always fill in the address last.

So do I. I haven't written it yet. What is it anyway?

>>> Sometimes I don't even know the address.

No. But I know your address. I also know an REM song
that says 'Here's my new address'. Is it 'Letter Never
Sent'? I like that bridge. We should talk more about
old, good REM songs. Like 'Little America' or - darn
it, I cannot remember the name of the one I want to
mention. Something about a canyon?

>>> LLOYD PORTER

This reminds me - I have often thought that my ideal
pop personality, whom I still await, would be the
offspring of the producer of 'Sheila Take A Bow' and
the author of 'Anything Goes'. With a genetic
inheritance like that, she could even be named after
Michael Jackson's sister and still be guid, though not
necessarily good.

>>> It's at this point that I start to flag. Union
blues.

Now, what is Cookie96 saying here? Something about
Scotland?

>>> City. Please don't cry.

Something about Kevin Keegan?

>>> one might imagine there to be something rather
sexy about see-through corduroy pants, but there
really isn't. // And she's so wrong. I fear, however,
that it is too late.

She is? I think she might be. But why is it too late?
And for whom?

>>> What bits of paper?

Bits of paper that I had written on; or printouts of
things that I had typed; or old newsprint; and
especially, many many pages of the old inky music
press. It's all gone.

>>> 62? You're over my head again, mon. Geezer. MOTD
Year 00, perhaps? I dinnae ken. Could it be that even 
Chu dinnae Ken?

This is in fact easy: Ally McCoist was born in 1962.
October, I think.

>>> I'm afraid most of the time, being a Belle 
and Sebastian fan.

You sound like Tom Ewing, mon.

>>> I've just completed my life's work, btw. And still
I haven't included everything I wanted to. Oh well. It
comes in two parts. You have to have the first to
understand the second, perhaps, and the other way
round. It's all linked, see? It could be called
something silly like Secrets Of The Heart. That would
be the sub-heading. The real heading would be
1995-2001, The Best Of...

I have only just realized what this means. For a while
back there I thought I was going to have to write
something about you writing your autobiography, or
whether you really think you only have another 22
years to go. I think I started to think your mail was
a bit spoky, which is the name of the Velocity Girl's
dog. Now I think it must be something else.

>>> I've just filled in the address. It's going to
Maryhill.

Now I understand this too - or do I? Jeez - so much
for replying 'in public'.

Is it true that Calumn Shearer is going to whales? I
think he should "delurk" and tell us.

A while back I wanted to reply to Peter Miller, but he
started talking about paintbrushes and intimidating
me. I don't know much about the brush, save that it
never figured on old TV show Brush Strokes. I still go
by what my old Italian painter-decorator tutor, Signor
Duluxoroni, told me: - You gotta rolla with it, you
a-gotta no problem.


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