There
are a few things swirling around the old noggin this evening. I could
get all pop political and rage about Train Gate, but I don’t want
to add to the noise already surrounding that non event. I could fill
countless pages on the pointless remakes of classic films or the
recent trend of turning successful films into TV series but it
doesn’t seem like the right time, with the chatter about
Ghostbusters still fresh enough to have me instantly branded racist,
misogynistic and afterlife-phobic. I could even quite enjoy
painstakingly explaining why the PS4 title ‘No Mans Sky’ is
actually fucking brilliant, thank you very much, but if I start
writing about it I’ll have to go and play it. So, no, that’s not
happening either. Mentally, I’ve got quite a few blog posts queued
up, pretty much written and ready to go. I’m just not sure I’ve
got the energy or cognitive capacity to do the subjects justice.
Occasionally,
every single time I write, I come up against this problem. An idea so
much better than my ability to describe it that I probably just
shouldn’t, so I resolve not to until I realise that I’m going to
have to, because otherwise it won’t get done. Currently I am
writing a pantomime with a mate and, while it’s excellent fun, it’s
proving a tough nut to crack, like a macadamia but behind you. Oh,
no. My mistake. I thought it would be easy: a light, jolly throw
around thing, based on one of the traditional stories. The bloody
plot’s already there, the characters come in the box and puns are,
essentially, ninety percent of the content. It should be easy, but
it’s not. Every punchline has a potential misunderstanding, each
set up might not knock down, all of the songs could end up dreadful,
and this is all before I’ve clicked on ‘new document’.
I
actually think it gets worse the more things I have in my head.
Dozens of little voices, all going “I’d work out better if you
picked me instead”. Flirts. But then I’ll try one out, and y’know
what? Yeah, no better. So I’ll feel like I’m not thinking hard
enough, so I’ll really strain, and then I won’t be able to think
at all and I’ll have to have a lie down and that will be the end of
that. It’s one of the reasons I’m doing this blog-a-day exercise,
because in order to get them done I have to, well, just do them. I
can’t afford to over think it, I can’t really afford to think
about it at all, because if I don’t start on the damn thing as soon
as I return from work it simply won’t get finished. Naturally this
results in a wild inconsistency but shut up.
The
secret, then, is to not think, which is an incredibly stupid secret
that nobody wants to know because it will lead only to badly thought
out things, executed on the off-chance that someone happens to
remember. The slightly revised ‘secret’, which I’m about to
tell you thus rendering it but a humble ‘sentence’, is this:
think about it a little bit, in the background but not really, but
then just actually do the thing and then you won’t not do it
because of just thinking about it for ages in the belief that all of
that having thunked would end up making it more gooderer. See? I
haven’t engaged my brain for at least half of this last paragraph
and it’s been gold. Solid gold. Besides, most things don’t need
to make sense, or be ‘good’, or to be incisive observations on
our very being, they just need to pass the time. So, you’re
welcome.
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