After something of a hiatus, during which blogging time (and the muse) have been sadly lacking, I thought I’d try and get back to a weekly schedule of posting. Maybe.
In the few weeks that I’ve been absent from the blogosphere, I’ve managed to part company with a small lump – aka mystery spot – via a minor procedure. The test results identified it as a basal cell carcinoma, one that is thankfully no longer around to cause any mischief.
I now sport a fine scar, although sadly on my back, so I can’t show it off like those famous German duelling fanatics.
I’m also on the brink of a new business partnership, but more on that another time. And of course I’ve managed to miss out on all the great posts by my favourite bloggers too. Sorry guys.
I would try to catch up by speed reading everything I missed, but the last time I attempted that I simply gave myself a headache, blurry vision and an inability to say the letter Q.
One reaches a certain age where the thought of a wild night out on the town, crowded bars and long queues for packed and sweaty nightclubs slowly begins to lose its appeal. Over the years we certainly had our fair share of such nights, but then one day you start to see the advantages of a nice quiet, non-crowded living room. No dress code, no queues for drinks or bathroom, very cheap booze and you can be in bed at the end of the evening in seconds rather than endure the awful slog home via night buses or trains.
Life has a tendency to string you along for a while, giving the impression that it’s all rather predictable. Then one day you wake up and find you’ve turned into a giant insect and wham! The world is suddenly a very different place.
Of course not everyone has an experience quite as extreme as Kafka’s unfortunate protagonist Gregor, in his story The Metamorphosis. For most of us those unexpected events that you didn’t see coming may be relatively common, although still life changing. You lose your job, get in a traffic accident or break up with a partner and suddenly the sense of stability is gone and all bets are off. It reminds you of just how fragile a construction our lives can be and how a single decision or chance event, somewhere back in time, can potentially ripple through the universe like a personal tsunami, overturning your plans and hopes like so many little boats.
In the future, everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes”
In these days of instant fame, social media superstars and startup billionaires, there’s never been so many opportunities to suck at life and be really miserable. Here is the handy halfbananas guide to leveraging your personal brand for maximum impact in the smediaverse and beyond.
A slight departure from the more usual format today for a different type of rambling. Well a short bus ride/walk anyway, to a lake that is just a stone’s throw (if you are Thor) from our place.
Furesø lake is twenty kilometers north-west of Copenhagen and is apparently the deepest in Denmark. It’s also a perfect location to relax on such a fine sunny day. With the bordering forest an added attraction, we figured it was high time we made a return visit.
Horror has become big business these days and you can hardly have failed to notice the waves of the undead shuffling, flying or bounding across screens big and small. With a plethora of assorted suckers, rippers and biters, horror fans are spoiled for choice when it comes to grisly supernatural thrills.
There are a ton of psychological theories about why we love to scare ourselves silly with these films. But whatever the truth, many of us just can’t help but subject ourselves to what one might call a safe scare. All the adrenalin and terror without any real danger (despite what some cunning marketing people would have us believe).
We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones.” – Stephen King
What would the creators of Nosferatu or Dracula make of all this ghoulish entertainment? Would Mary Shelly find our modern day monsters a little OTT? Could George Romero have ever imagined we’d become so addicted to the brain-munchers?
The concept of making a to-do list of amazing experiences and must-see places has become something of a cliche in recent years. There was even a movie called The Bucket List with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, although I’ve not seen it (it’s not on my list).
If you’re not climbing the Matterhorn for charity dressed as a penguin, or piloting your own fantastical steam-punk ship/house to the Burning Man festival, you’re not really thinking big enough, man. Run an ultra-marathon across the desert, take ayahuasca with an Amazon shaman, or unicycle to the South Pole to raise awareness for world albino-hamster day. But don’t just sit there!