Day 12

5.03: The mornings are pretty dark now, and 5am’s starting to feel a little cold and creepy. “I have a constant fear that something’s always near,” is what Iron Maiden said – a band so rock ‘n’ goddam roll that not a single one of them has need of sleeves. But that isn’t really it. What’s creepy about my 5am dark is almost the opposite of that: I know there are people upstairs, nextdoor and outside (about eight million of them) but still none of them are doing anything.

Incidentally, what I find annoying about that Iron Maiden song, and guaranteed to make 90 per cent of people who follow the link click the window closed before it kicks anywhere close to in, is the pale reverby rehash (or maybe prehash) of the guitar riff that cuts in after about 45 seconds (and comes back again like fucking Bergerac at the end). Once everything gets going, it’s all comfortingly Iron Maiden – hairs on the chest and dead dogs in the sink – but that twangy echoey guitar bit really sticks in my craw (and when I say sticks I mean wobbles around like I’m swallowing a Slinki).

Also incidentally, I have no idea if Bergerac ever actually made a comeback; I just remember when I was a child, my parents always seemed to be going on about how the last episode of Bergerac was coming up. But time goes weird when you’re a kid, so what seemed like a hundred years of harping may only have lasted an afternoon.

I seem to be wandering: the grindstone awaits my nose.

6.56: Well once I got going it was hard to tear myself away. Planning is done (though patchy) and we have moved from Parnassus’ training slopes into unstoppable headlong hurtling towards the edge of a cliff, like Roger Moore in The Spy Who Loved Me. Geronimo! Hope the parachute opens.

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~ by David Thorley on November 10, 2009.

One Response to “Day 12”

  1. I’ll have a trampoline waiting for you, just in case.

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