i stopped paying my bills so that i could save for something i want.
the only thing that hurt was goin’ without internet for so long.
i found that i had to visit friends a bit more than normal, which is cool because i don’t visit people enough.
being a single dad living miles away from most sensible friends and family means i’m usually trapped at home of an evening, lonesome.
i didn’t realise i was lonesome until the internet and outgoing calls were blocked.
it meant no facebook, no porn, no youtube, no WordPress to read, nor being able to publish poetry if i write it.
so do you know what i did?
ye, ok, i watched telly a little but the stuff that i watch, mainly science and religious stuff, is getting a bit ‘repeatey’. there is only so many times i can listen to Michiu Kaku tell semi thoughtful people how he made an atom smasher as a teen and how we are all gonna be able to afford contact lens smart devices in the next ten years. (when i watch gadget shows, i know that i won’t touch those items until they are almost obsolete.)
so i started listening to music. not youtube as is my wont, but rather that almost obsolete bit of wizardry; the humble CD. and i started reading novels again.
i thought i’d grown bored of long story lines but found myself proven wrong.
Cell by Stephen King was fairly good, jus know that i would survive because i don’t currently own a mobile phone 🙂
the Dean Koontz book was ok but not his best by a long way.
Bernard Cornwell excelled himself as usual and i’m looking forward to his next instalment in the Alfred/Uhtred series.
i re-read A Clockwork Orange and could hear Malcolm McDowell’s storytelling narrative in much the same way as hearing Morgan Freeman’s voice while reading Rita Hayworth & The Shawshank Redemption.
considering the company that printed the version i read, there were faar too many typos.
and i re-read The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien, that includes the tales of Beren and Luthien & The Children Of Hurin. two of the most thoughtful pieces ever written.
When the Hobbit films are finished, i hope Peter Jackson tries to make The Children Of Hurin, surely the best story Ever written, and i don’t say that lightly.
Children Of Hurin is a chapter within the tale of the Silmarills but after being expanded upon by his son Christopher Tolkien a few years back, the story is greater than the sum of it’s parts.
what if you were taken captive by a dark nightmare before the gates of his dominion? if you taunted him? would he make you watch from a high place with his eyes as your wife and children were afflicted by many tragedies, giving you a perverted viewpoint so all niceties look malign and evil mock sincerity to be taken for pity?
well, i’ve got the internet back now so my brief sojourn into the world of bound books is to be put on hold again. at least until the next time i choose not to pay the bills 🙂