Liadnan

You know, I could have sworn that was a Kipling line. Perhaps it is, but the only answers Google can come up with are the Goons (which I knew, indeed it was hearing the Goons episode that prompted the search) and John Lennon.

It's twenty past midnight on a school night and I'm playing on the interweb and drinking whiskey. I have no real excuse. Well, the whiskey is currently the only anaesthetic that works on my arm and shoulder, which otherwise becomes unbearable in the evening, and I stayed up because Joey was on and I wanted to see what I made of it. Currently, hmmm. It has good gags but I don't yet see the staying power Friends or, more directly comparable, Frasier had from the first moment.

And earlier, a weird and morbid ER episode. (Incidentally, they have done real-time stuff before, haven't they? Or maybe I'm just imagining that.)

Frankly, I'm not well-equipped to watch such things emotionally at the moment. I was at home all weekend seeing my father. The man who taught me to appreciate the Goon Show, and Kipling, amongst half a million other things.

I wrote a long paragraph here and then deleted it. Fuck it. Stick with the words of a man my father knew, in a particularly appropriate poem:

Dust in sunlight and memory in corners
Wait for the wind that chills towards the dead land