And the moon's teeth marks are on the sky, like a tarp thrown all over this...

Sends shivers.

Jeeze Louise, there's a programme on BBC 2 right now about Harold Pinter, who died at the end of last years. They're talking about The Birthday Party, which is an awesome play, very frightening, but the film adaptation being shown seems pretty silly. If you haven't read Pinter, be sure to give him a read; he deals with the human condition, has quite a sinister and negative view of humanity, and his plays and characters are often very cryptic and realistic at the same time; realistic in the way they talk, and the way that Pinter captures natural speech (with interuption, mistakes, repetition etc), but very mystic in terms of interelationships, and how they talk about their past etc. He avoids opening character description also, so your interpretation of each character comes entirely from what they do and say in the play.

Check out The Caretaker (which has a great movie adaptation, with Donald Pleasance, the blind guy from The Great Escape, as the tramp), The Room, The Homecoming (which is hilarious and extremely frightening), The Dumb Waiter and The Birthday Party. Keep an eye for them anyway, The Room and The Dumb Waiter are often published in one collection.

I forgot what else I was going to write about now... Probably not a whole lot. I set up Heather's rowing machine today, which took a fair bit of time, but it's pretty fun to use.

Also, I had a class today on Derek Walcott's poetry, which is pretty fantastic. Here's a couple of his poems for you to peruse, if you're into that sort of thing:

The Schooner Flight

A Far Cry From Africa

The first one is pretty long, don't attempt it if you don't have a lot of patience because there's a fair bit of coloquial Carribean language. It's worth it though; it's full of wonderful imagery, for example:

"I ain't answer the ass, I simply pile in
the back seat and watch the sky burn
above Laventille pink as the gown
in which the woman I left was sleeping"

or...

"I knew when dark-haired evening put on
her bright silk at sunset, and, folding the sea,
sidled under the sheet with her starry laugh,
that there'd be no rest, there'd be no forgetting."

Sigh...

Check out A Far Cry From Africa also, which is much shorter but very dense.

I love buying books, but when it comes to poetry it's often very easy to just find what you're looking for online. It was in the news today that books are going up in price, along with alcohol. Now is the winter of our discontent...

Anyways, Heather's writing and reading about her disertation and I'm sure using the computer wouldn't hurt, so I'll wrap this up.

Cheerio!