Deadbeats

Being Earnest

Posted by The Powers That Be, Saturday, 4 October 2003 at 3:15 pm, EDT

I’ve been drinking again. Regular readers of the old tour journals will be familiar with this particular pastime of mine. Never knowingly shy of Stella, that’s my problem.

As always it was being back in Stratford-upon-Avon that did it, Mr. Jarrett and I know too many people in that town and are inevitably raped with alcohol at the behest of these bastards when we visit.

I suffer from a number of predictable supping symptoms, falling over and looking a twat being only the final in a long list; I have noticed, however, that one of those symptoms is growing alarmingly powerful of late : a drunken aptitude for ‘Holding Forth’.

It should come as no surprise that I can be an opinionated little sod (it is, after all, the point of the column you are now reading); it is only to be expected, therefore, that after the odd sherry I may become increasingly intolerable to listen to on any number of particular subjects. It concerns me though, as the one who felt the need to go into Waterstones Booksellers the next day and apologise to all of the staff for demanding they leave their jobs and picket against the ‘Big Mac of Book Shops’ for its potentially damaging no-risk book stocking policy (no new authors but enough Simon Schama to bludgeon a Whale). The fact that this policy has a knock-on effect to the publishing of new authors in the book industry and could irreparably…

I’m sorry, there I go again. Anyway, I apologised, and there the matter shall lie… ’til next time. And that’s the point rather… it’s getting frighteningly difficult to reign the mouth in these days, even without the potentially justifying beer, it’s likely to run off guns blazing at the slightest provocation.

Old man before my time, I feel the ‘curtain-twitcher’ in me begin to grow. Sure of nothing so much as the crumbling values and predilections of the society I feel I’ve left behind. Any day now the word youth will shift from a description of myself to a curse; a cover-all term that explains just exactly what is wrong in the world we live. Ironing socks cannot be far away.

But what to do? Soon I will be a danger to those around me, the air in the room growing thin as I rant and rave to anyone who will listen. Art, religion, politics and sex will be dissected over and over to my ever-dwindling audience as I build to a crisis point capable of tearing the very fabric of space and time asunder.

Not that I concern myself with mere trifles my children; dear Lord no… Did you know that Tesco’s own brand of Extra Strong Mint contain elements of Beef and Potatoes? Pour gravy on the buggers and tuck into a packet this Sunday people! Beefy sweets, the way to a contented life! The veggies secret path to perdition! Bring on Lamb Lollies, pray for Pork Chews!

Have you noticed how Simon Le Bon has aged into a carbon copy of Judy Finnegan?

Continuity buffs: Non Smoker now for just one week.

I really do need to learn to relax, the fate of the world may well depend on it. Gratuitous sex or knitting: answers on a postcard please.

G.

Spread the love, it’s good for your skin:

up.jpg Listen to: Up - Peter Gabriel

This is another man who brings the anorak out in me, beautiful, fascinating, layered stuff that manages to sound like no one else. There was a ten year gap between this album and his previous, listen to this and then join me in my death threat campaign to make it quicker in future.

cages.jpg Read: Cages - Dave McKean

Almost agonizingly beautiful, this is the collected graphic novel by the exceptional Dave McKean, long time collaborator with Neil Gaiman and one of the most innovative and exciting artists at work today. The book is pricey, picture a hardback telephone directory printed on glossy paper and you’ll begin to imagine why.

falling_down.jpg Watch: Falling Down [1992]

A flawed yet very watchable offering from uber-camp Joel Schumacher. The subject matter is just too close to the above sentiments to not offer it as a glimpse of my possible future.

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Author

Guy Adams used to dress up and pretend he was someone else. Then he swapped acting for writing. This proves that not only is he a compulsive liar he is also something of an idiot. He is responsible for the novels 'More Than This' and 'The Imagineer' (under the name of Gregory Ashe) as well as the Deadbeat series of novellas. There are a few short stories with his name on and he wrote the words for he official 'Life On Mars Companion' which paid more than the lot of them put together. [More]

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