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Friday, 23 January 2009

Interior Monologue...

Do you ever get tired of it?

You know, that persistent Film Noir voice-over that runs through your head from daybreak to lights out? Another kind of drone, the sort that turns every event, no matter how prosaic or dull, into a portentously bleak existential scene straight out of Simenon or Chandler, if only in one's imagination. So sitting, for instance, on the john - it would be a john, obviously, not a bog because to be properly noirish you need to be in Chandlerville, LA; there's not quite the same ring to sitting on a lavatory or loo in suburban England, is there? - you'll hear it starting up.

Cue RKO transmitter on the north pole morse coding away to the Universe. Cue dramatic chords. Roll opening credits:

Farewell my not-so-lovely...

Maigret Takes a Dump...

Or better still...

The Long Goodbye

Maybe that's where that Arnott chap got the inspiration for The Long Firm?

Some days, you'd just like to turn it off. But you can't. (Well, you could - but only if you think you're ready for the real Big Sleep...)

Still, as they always say - 'better out than in'. Another movement in the symphony of life; another day, another post...

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