Sunday, 26 September 2010


We had thirteen first-timers on the Conscious Life retreat this weekend, meaning less than six weeks’ sobriety apiece. Helen, of course, knows that the post-seminar entertainment needs to be replenishing and serene but, once we found that a previous attendee had defaced the front of the DVD machine, we were forced to go with whatever VHSs lay under the tartan shroud in the back of her truck.

David Cronenburg’s "Scanners" undid much of Friday’s good work. Larry M. journalled afterward that this telepathy-based thriller had the production values of a "Stephen King’s It", but the good sense to pack up its stall after 85 minutes. Great breakthrough for Larry. Jason F. was visibly upset by the viscera spilled onscreen; we talked things through during shantih-hour and he managed to internalize most of his shrieking by lights-out. Desiree was rapt to silence by the depth of some of the basses on the synth soundtrack. Tomorrow we’ll have her gently chant the coyote quote from Guru Om Basti.

For Saturday we’re left with "Cool Runnings" or Season 1 of "Deadwood". I suspect Julian G’s ongoing hostility issues will compel us to plump for the latter.

Hot Tub Time Machine and Valhalla Rising

I have Tobias this morning. Fay takes the other one to ‘Baby Massage with Gaia’ at eight (Fay likes to tell people there that she’s a single mother). She won’t be back until gone three- after, they go down to the park to watch the British Military Fitness instructors.

We had a dinner party yesterday. I thought the ‘if-you-go-back-in-time-and-then-decide-to-stay-do-you-have-to-then-go-back-in-time-again-later-so-that-it-all-works?’ debate was dead. Surely we'd all worked that through years ago in a student union somewhere (T1, T2, BTTF I-III). But, ohh no, Flo and Henry have seen Hot-Tub-Time-Machine. I liked it: the arachnid Crispin Glover (Good). It will sit elegantly between Old School and 17 Again (spitting distance from Big). But, f____, the chat was limited, circular and tedious. Is that the best we've got? I tried: ‘pull out of the Commonwealth Games?’ and ‘Ed or David?’. Fay said I was bourgeois.

I gave Tobias a can of ‘Coke with a twist of lime’ at about ten past eight. He’d crashed out by nine. Valhalla Rising. Makes me laugh when a DVD box blurb gets the plot wrong: ‘Boarding a Viking vessel set for the new world…’ (they didn’t - that’s a big part of the f_____g point). I like it too when they recast the movie . I took it hook, line and sinker: ‘From the producers of the Football Factory…’ Down right cheeky. I wanted and expected a violent placebo. Not a redemptive study. I should have checked if there was a new Danny Dyer about “footbawl and kickin’ f___ owta geeza”.

It was A Very Good Film, no doubt. I should be grateful. It could have been Centurion (“Britain’s answer to Gladiator”- my deep blue balls).

I can hear all of the lavatories in the house flushing. Tobias must be up.