Tales from a parallel universe

Sulking: The question can you actually sulk alone or can you only truly sulk in company or at the very least when those around you see you leave the room clearly in a sulk and therefore know and fully appreciate your current sulky state and thereby render it credible as a form of protest? Obvious to me that without sulk recognition there is no proper sulk, man (or woman) cannot sulk on their own. In other words a sulk cannot survive in a vacuum. This creates the formula (where S=sulk) S>x (the amount of people in the room) if S(x-x)= -S and d = distance and t (time spent in sulk) S (1x+1d+1t) = S³t-x-d = -S(-xdt) = 0. Not sure that this actually works every time however.

You know that it’s a special kind of day when you wake up and eventually (after feeding the cats and emptying the dishwasher or emptying the cats and feeding the dishwasher) shower singing segments from “Tales from Topographic Oceans” to yourself. This is disturbing for a number of reasons but mainly two in particular a) I have not listened to said album for 35 years therefore it is not fixed in my memory and b) a sure sign of growing old and mad is remembering and recalling things clearly from the past and but being able to remember what you did during the last weekend. Not long after singing I completely forgot about all that and went back to visualising the regular drumming tin monkey and laughing to myself about either some of Malcolm Tucker’s insults or Bob Servant’s attempts to get a talking lion exported to Dundee from Africa. Then like a bolt out of the blue some 14 hours later “Tales from Topographic Oceans” came back into my head like some late train arriving at a misty station platform all golden and set in sepia tones. Clearly the drugs are not working.

I don’t watch much TV but when I do there often is little bearded bloke there talking quite intelligently. I don’t know who he is or how tall or short he might be and I often wonder how he managed to get that job. I also think that about President Sarkozy and various people in the media and petroleum industries. Sometimes life seems unfair when you look at the untalented slobs and ugly people who have managed to become rich and successful or reached the pinnacle of some sort of vital and illustrious career structure. I suppose therefore it’s quite good that little bearded blokes make it onto TV and capture a captive audience, there’s hope for us all, particularly if you believe in parallel universes.