Youngest has a number of cuddly toys though his naming choices are slightly bizarre. Well Lego as the name of a dog is OK - witty even but not particularly strange. However he has called one of the cuddly dogs "Engines of the Little Railway" probably after a Thomas the Tank Engine Poster. I suppose it was a name of least resistance - look up for inspiration and there it is on the wall. I am vaguely aware of a bad joke along these lines.
I am still listening to the rain CD. Rain has no connotations - no associations - it just swallows up the background thoughts that clamour for attention over whatever primary processing is going on. It is like the cusp of catastrophe theory - it stops the negatives building up to overwhelm the neutrals and the positives. Each track fades out and that leaves me back in the room - wondering at the silence, though like 4'33'' it often makes me acutely aware of the sounds that normally fill the air without getting anywhere near consciousness - the hum of the air-conditioning - the general hiss that is the sum of all technologies in an office such as this. It seems that the computers, printers, phones etc on their own produce no audible sound but together build up into a sort of silicon big-bang whisper that comes from all directions - the inside equivalent of the distant traffic hum that fills every city or the vaguely natural sound of an absolutely still rural setting.
I go through phases of wanting to listen to either CDs or the radio while I am driving home - it seems to fit with how happy I am at the time with the radio being the background to the negative moods. This is talk radio of course and to be absolutely specific Radio 4. Tuning "in to some friendly voices" as Kate Bush has it. I am not sure what the detractors of the BBC want to replace it or what level of culture they would actually like to see in this country. What I am sure about is that it would be possible to distract them either with a nice line in tank-tops or a few angels and nice shiny pin. Of course the BBC is flawed - biased in its coverage at times - but a discussion of bias should not in itself be biased let alone a magnet for racists, homophobes and all manor of ineloquent commenters. I suspect the bottom line is that people do not like having to pay for something they don't choose to watch though I am sure that there are very few people who refuse absolutely to watch anything on the BBC for that reason. As we hear rumblings of a change to the allowed number of advert breaks in commercial TV, what can we expect of the future?
I realise of course that, like the (possibly legendary) idea that all insurance breaks down if you drive around l'arc de triomphe, all bets are off for Bonekickers which is so truly awful that it has looped around through the torus-shaped universe of culture and come back on itself as unmissable. The most intriguing issue about why this might be is that the writers responsible for this Sixth-Form idea on liberalism and equivocation of the past, are the same as those who wrote Life On Mars and Ashes To Ashes. Has the script been got at by someone?
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