Monday, June 13, 2005

Apropos of Nothing

This blogging. If you've nothing sensible to say - you still say it. In fact, you're encouraged to, which is liberating. To me anyway. If there's no subject occupying your thoughts, no ideas-baton you feel worth picking up and running with, nothing you feel aches to be revealed through the purging process of writing; you can still do what you do in real life, pick away at the minutiae of your thoughts and say it by writing it down in logical sequences. Or illogical sequences. Or at least in sentences which have the advantages of some crafting time, some . . . honing time, and that through the process it will prompt blogging material from the outrageous tangents and audacious non sequiturs.

And the ideas - the ideas will flow through you like the one that Alec Guiness - he of Obi wan Kenobi (a few erstwhile efforts involving 'Ossifers will do . . . . manuul worrk!!' and a handful of classics notwithstanding) fame implored Luke - the youthful Mark Hamil to feel for. Luke, who within two film seasons ended up looking like he'd just been de-swaddled of mummy-like facial bandages, Invisible Man style, whilst his badly burned face slowly recovered as if from some kind of intergalactic leprosy. All that flying around at the speed of sound even in simulated mode bestowed on Hamil a look that screams G Force distortion. In freeze frame. Still it was onwards and upwards for Mark as he went from strength to, well, mediocre before doing a Hollywood bungy-jump to downright awful. From the Return of the Jedi and international fame from all three original Star Wars, to playing Will Tasker in Slipsteam and Wayne Stein in Earth Angel. The offers were obviously not flowing quite like its forcy precursor.

The offers for sop voice overs however went stratospheric once Mark's new boat became the subject of sneering asides from casting directors and would be leading ladies. Mark Hamil. From Luke the golden boy Jedi Knight, graceful wielder of lightsabers, and saver of fiesty princesses with barely and incestuous thought in his head, to the nebulous 'other voices' credits of The Little Mermaid. But a good face to call up if a redneck inbred role needed to be filled.

And the ideas flow, force-like as it binds this blog entry together - well cobbles it together would be a rather more apposite piece of phraseology. I like cobbles - 'the force, it's what cobbles us together with the universe'. Hmm unless bathos is sought, I don't suppose cobbles really stands as an exact synonym for bind in the Star Warsy sense. Good for blogs though. The verb to cobble: the process of fixing shoes, also gives us cobblers - those who do the fixing and the word in turn bestows a handy bit of Cockney rhyming slang for a load of crap from cobblers awls -balls. Release those cobblers awls. (Only the true OMC blog cognoscenti will have any understanding of this last statement - last statement. Last: a cobblers work bench provides a rather fortuitous link. I don't do John Kettly - 'Oo-er Nicky I can't really think o' link here so I'll get on wit weather. Do the weather John - you aren't funny. I like you though - and if the beard returns telly will reclaim you I'm sure. But no beard and puffy face will turn you into the Mark Hamil of weather forecasting.

When aiming at .... 'aiming at'... I haven't thought of this since .... I learnt as a school boy that 'at' always, always follows aim or aimed or aiming. The temptation to use 'for' or towards is so strong. So strong. But a little voice inside my head says "don't be a pedant". It will all end in tears. Your tears. No-one else will be crying - do not get involved in this stressful occupation. And I'm not. I can't be - I don't know all the rules. A pedant has to be versed in all the rules. If I'm not to be joined by raging clever-cloggies wanting to 'unhappy-slap' me in my comments box and telling me to shut up. Shut up!

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