the state of things

 

A Descent Into The Sludge of Melancholic Desperation, Angst And Tangled Misanthropic Curmudgeon

by Douglas Lindsay - 12:31 on 13 April 2011

So, here we are. Mid-school holidays. Kids are engaged, allowing crack Scottish barber serial-killing apocalyptic absurdist thriller writer Douglas Lindsay to write. Something. Anything.


However. Brain... not working. Sentences.... will.... not.... formulate.


Part of the problem is that the spawn might be engaged, but they're engaged in the same room as me. Watching cricket. I keep saying things like, 'Go outside and play cricket,' and 'Stop drinking beer, it's not even lunchtime yet. And you're only ten.' But they don't really care. And you sit there with the cricket on, thinking, don't watch the cricket, don't watch the cricket, don't watch the cricket, and then something happens - someone bowls a ball, an Indian in gold lamé pads walks to the crease, the floodlights come on, someone breathes - and you find yourself looking up. And the minute you look up, the thought that had been slowly formulating in the mud-like toxic pit of your brain suddenly vanishes; then the moment on the TV passes, and you look back at the screen and all that's there is half a sentence such as The naked dwarf stood dripping in liquid methane as the alien craft dropped... or Fuck you, you Uranus-loving cyber wanker, and stick your chocolate telescope up your... - and you think, what had I been thinking when I started that sentence and how was I going to finish it? But there's nothing there.


Am inspired by watching Destination Titan last night to write my SETI-based sitcom. That's what I should be doing. Instead, I'm writing this and trying not to watch cricket. I was also inspired by the first five minutes of Campus, which seemed to have really snappy dialogue of the type that one aspires to writing; but then, after another half hour, it seemed that the dialogue was repeating itself, with an over-reliance on rudeness and the work fuck to get a laugh.


Not that I haven't on several occasions in the past relied on the word fuck to get a laugh.


Hmm. As the ball disappears over the boundary, and the Scottish barber serial-killing apocalyptic absurdist thriller writer loses yet another train of thought, his brain descending further into the sludge of melancholic desperation, angst and tangled misanthropic curmudgeon, a vestige of hope appears in the Stygian gloom. Use the word fuck for comic effect. It's easy, and it works for everyone else. Even if it's not actually funny.


Some great movie quotes containing the word fuck:


"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a fuck." Gone With The Wind


"Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in fucking Kansas anymore. Aw, fuck." The Wizard of Oz


"A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. It was fucking minging." Silence of the Lambs


At last, the spawn disappear outside, the television is turned off, and I am released.


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