a quick scroll down the recent history of this blog reveals that i have been uncharacteristically silent on the question of barker vs corus. though some might argue that i am aping a greater authority in my legal discussions, again a coincidence in time of my reading and listening lead me to recommend a radio program which name checks both the aforementioned house of lords decision along with the immortal fairchild (though it is sadly silent on the more technically delicate bolton council* case). pats on the back all round, i say.

hank poulson gets the treasury. what gives. once again the present american administration acts in a way entirely in line with precedence.

* i haven't seen this sight before and it looks rather good. if any of you would like to come and whisper it in my ear when i am otherwise idle you would be most welcome.

today i blog with some market commentry*. i have the good fortune to be at home studying security price models (a dream of youth indeed), and having done a solid few hours work i have taken a break to have a coffee and maybe plan a short excursion this afternoon. on the radio they are discussing black monday (i remember watching it on telly aged 5) and as i flick to google news i see that the present bear run continues. the last time i commented on a moving market it was just at the demise of charles kennedy, and i missed a good opportunity for a few "safe quid" on the exchanges. my books say that a bet on today's closing would be irrational and short sighted, and i am incluned to beleve them. i did miss out last time though...

*this advice is far from professional, rational, concidered or to be relied upon for purposes other than for the conversation on the bus to clapham.

friday i was tired, it is true. it is amazing what good an espresso and a listen to joy division will do you. when it had grown dark i headed for brick lane, ran the gambit of potential dinners and was lucky enough to find myself at the birthday party of one kirsty mcquire which was an unexpected treat. not that i was expecting a bad time, but the sheer weight of possibility leant the evening a sweet smell. suitably bouyed by alcohol and amusing sets of potential copulants i strolled home in the pouring rain to find six hours of sound sleep.

i awoke to find the house commendably awash with bayntons, but my time spent with them was all too brief due to pending professional commitments. a fair portion of the day was spent in contemplation. i just cant remember the respective roles of vickrey, clark and groves. drop me a line if your recollections are clearer (i believe the second link is slightly misleading).

today i went to see mission impossible, and it was much better than the first few minutes would have you believe. as soon as the absurd bombast begins the film becomes effective as a diversion which is all i can hope for in my present sorry state. other films coming up which have me on the edge of my yet to materialise seat: miami vice, pirates of the carribean 2 and marie antoinette. no doubt this list will prove far from exhaustive. that is my new favorite phrase written as text. far from exhaustive. you can use it too.

i have rediscovered a melancholic record from my crate and it is an absolute cracker. i used to keep it in a plactic sleve in case of flood but i fear that peril less and less as i live further and further from the ground. i remember once going to a cavernous record store in glasgow and seeing a small shirne to it's creator. there is a man who makes one want to dissapear completely and never be found again. a happy thought.

yet again i feel like i am a character in the second palace brothers record. this is truely an old testament scenario. i am to live for several hundred years ensuring centuries of hardship and barren loins only to be condemned to eternity in pergatory for failing to kill a man wearing a garment composed of more than one fabric.

i am so very tired and i am to go to a party tonight. i will hopefully manage to pep myself up in the very near future and to that end i will go and fire up my machine.

"upon my soul" i exclaimed, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the streaming light outside the cinema. i exhanged a boggling kind of glance with a small child. "it is very big" she said, to no one in particular, though i should expect the intended audience would have included her entourage as well as myself. the enourmous elephant just went strolled on by, unmoved by the accuracy and completeness of the infant's view on the whole farango. it is for this that the 453 was diverted. someone has a lot to answer for.

i have lately been mindful of the sentiment surrounding the song from which the title(s) of this blog are taken. in my innermost thoughts i always portray myself as a slacker in the dave berman/steve malkmus mould but events and experience are wildly at variance with the attendent expectations. i have come to some new terminology for my predicament this morning. i am aggresively indifferent to almost everything that surrounds me. and yet, there is the hard kernel of the real in that "almost" which, alas, i cannot ignore.

emulsions formed by shaking molten fat with aqueous liquid in a copper pan have passed my lips and i have seen bucolic countryside appear and receed as i have passed between urban centers. perfectly fine paper products have been ruined by exploded tubs of yogurt. i have begun to make some real progress towards my annual literary goals. i will try to post in a more coherent manner when i have less to say.