He's a Hoare
No amount of opiates and daytime tv can compensate for the pain silky-D is in right now as he battles to recover from his prolapsed disc. This is what you get when you fly economy (as Radiohead once said). Please pray for me, Squid Army... your generous gifts of flowers, fruit and reading material have been truly appreciated (or at least they will be as soon as they arrive). The very firm but fair Dr J.S Hoare from the Altona medical centre has ordered bed rest and the uber-professional Natalie from Yarraville Physiotherapy has instructed that there will be no jumping off the Marshall Stack and ripping shit up for a while at least (also no sitting and no walking, which are lesser but still significant restrictions). The panadeine forte and valium has my wits suitably dulled and I am feeling lke a younger, hotter Rose Porteous. I'm alread sick of watching Dr Phil. I need something to read... any recommendations will be gratefully received. My home -- always previously a sanctuary from the pressures of work and life -- is suddenly transformed into a spinal Guantanamo Bay. I'd call it a concentration camp if it wasn't for the fact that I'm so dope-addled I can't concentrate on anything right now.and also, it would be inapropriate to make jokes about such things.
Labels: physiotherapy, Radiohead, valium
posted by silky-D at 3:45 pm
7 Comments:
Well I understand you are looking for recommendations from the fans but I will kick it off with Silas Marner and the Fatal Shore if you haven't read either. I assume, considering your profession you have read scoop...so I plump for Black Mischief as my second favourite Waugh outing (after his two hundreds in the one test at headingly whilst batting one-handed).
Despite this being terrible news, it is nice to have some blogging from someone other than me...
I have already straddled the fatal shore, got the lowdown on Scoop and sunk my teeth into Black Mischief. That only leaves the George Eliot... though i confess I was hoping for something a little lighter. Perhaps I should extend myself.
something that's been bothering me about one of the new numbers. As I understand it Bell's palsy distorts only the face and not the limbs. I've taken this up with a public health research specialist I know (a keen reader of this blog no less) who has confirmed it is the case. Still, I guess, it wouldn't be easy to pick silverbeet with a collpased face.
Bugger...a good point you make...why then does her left hand bend towards her???
Clearly you are a Waugh warrior...you have probably read Decline and Fall and Vile Bodies but if not they are also good...I struggled with all parts of the Sword of Honour Trilogy.
Then for moderns I am absolutely devoted to David Mitchell. Ghost Written was fantastic. Number 9 dream quite good. And Cloud Atlas and Black Swan Green were terrific. I think Crafty has my copy of Black Swan Green and if so should forward it immediately.
And no recommendation list from me is complete without the obligatory Martin Amis. The harshly criticised Yellow Dog was, I think, one of his strongest with a cracking satire of the tabloid business as one of its strands that may appeal (and the section on True Crime fiction is one of my fav bits of any of his books).
Have you contemplated venturing into some Eurocrime, Silky-D? I can recommend some gems from the bookshelf.
BTW, I think this entry represents my first non-sarcastic comment on this blog. Momentous. I think Canberra beat it out of me.
I always knew that if we kept chipping away at that cynical shell that we'd get to the real Jimbo and that there we'd find the heart of a lion and the sensitive soul of a teenage emo...
This Canberra trip truly has been a revelation. Not only did I lose my sarcastic angle, I learnt what "emo" is from the Ainslie young'uns. Wow. Life skills all round (totally uncynical of course)
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