Just lately I've been stricken with a mild melancholic malaise, which alternates with a gnawing, niggling mild anxiety. I suspect these symptoms are the pay-off for having a creative mind, being a member of the Yartz, as Sir Les Patterson was prone to describing the industry. I have friends who are writers who have confided to feeling thus many a time, particularly when a project has a deadline. Thankfully, I can attribute my negative emotions to some social stressors in my life, and when these problems are resolved, I will feel a whole lot better. There are some people causing negativity in my life, true. I haven't come up with any more playlists for them, but promise to work on it because I know you're all perched agog on the edge of your seats, fingernails tearing at the fabric, as you await eagerly my next compilation album for dealing with arseholes.
But there are some things responsible for creating a big downer in me, and I can't explain why they have to happen. Things like nineteen people dead following an explosion at the Ariana Grande concert in Manchester, with people presenting to hospital with injuries consistent with a nail bomb. Truly, why do people have to be such low down scum? Why can't people live and let live? Don't we all have red blood and white bones? Don't we all just want to get on with our lives? Don't like Western civilisation? Fine. Get over it. Don't like adherents to the Islamic faith? Fine. Just get over it, too. Leave each other alone, for fuck's sake.
Also, there are things that just have me grinding my molars. I'm fed up to my freshly washed hair with hearing about Cassie Sainsbury. I'm sick of her family. I'm sick of it all. Dear media and social media ranters: how about letting the Colombian legal system do its job, and just let Cassie's lawyer do his job and advise her accordingly, and let Cassie make her mind up whether to plead guilty or not? But the award for the Most Arsehole Behaviour goes to - drumroll and envelope, please! - 60 Minutes for its cutting edge (*cough* sarcasm! *cough*) and insightful (*cough* also sarcasm! *cough*) ex-poh-ZAY on what Tara Brown (who following a bungled child grabbing attempt has apparently decided it's not really for her), with great gravitas and meaningful pauses between words reported on a 'vital piece' in the puzzle of what she was doing prior to travelling to Colombia, and 'her secret life...' (insert meaningful pause here) '...as a...' (insert another meaningful pause here) '...prostitute'. From memory, Mike Willessee was one for the meaningful pauses, which always made the segments go five minutes longer than they needed to. But pray tell, how is someone doing sex work a 'vital piece' of anything in this case? What was the purpose of this article, other than to create scandal and grab ratings because it would appeal to your viewing audience? It was all tabloid faecal excretion, complete with stock footage of a blonde woman in black lingerie. Cassie's grandmother learned of her granddaughter's second job via 60 Minutes. That Cassie had not told her family what she was doing is pretty indicative that she did not want them to know. And you know something else? That's her right. She doesn't owe anybody the information; it's relative to absolutely nothing. Your so-called journalism is shocking and revolting, and you should hang your stupid swollen heads in shame (after you've looked up 'shame'). Boy how jealous would Woodward and Bernstein be over your Clear-The-Front-Page and Hold-The-Presses scoop? Pffffft!
But, in the wake of this bleakness, life can still hold a surprise. Today I redeemed my iTunes gift card on my iPad. Normally, I type the code in. Today I discovered I can actually photograph the gift code straight away, rather than ferret around for my glasses and look from card to device as I ensure I have the code typed in correctly. It was so quick, and I got myself three songs from the iTunes Store. Gone are the days when my mother would purchase on my behalf an album from the physical music store when she undertook a big shop in the next town (and return with the wrong album). Gone are the days when I grabbed a pencil and wound rogue tape back into the cassette cartridge. The songs I purchased, by the by, are:
1. 'Dancing With Myself' by Billy Idol.
2. 'Fortunate Son' by CCR.
3. 'Ride On Time' by Blackbox.
Yes, three very disparate tunes, but then again, I have a broad, disparate and eclectic taste in music.
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