Notebook 05 Pg 88

The Page

 

The Words On The Page 

• Like a premature narwhale
• Frodo Baggins got rich, sold his ring for a rough hewn orcish farm implement
• Not because there is always 'one more toy in the shop' but because 'how dare the toymaker' and other metaphors that lie tossed aside and broken upon the feast of St Stephen
• Not the going down but how long you lie down - you stare into the abyss it will break you into omnillion pieces - but you stagger sway your pulpy mess to your feet and start again
• The abyss is a biatch (sic) of proportions you can not even begin to comprehend, but then again we are human and that whole incomprehendability thing hasn't really stopped us.
• Cell story (?) bedroom oratory
• Otherwise you're just making it up
• Waffle too much
• The wine of angels

The Words About The Words On The Page

Like a premature narwhale
I wish I'd either  finished or could remember what this metaphor was about, it sounds like it could have been a corker but I can't begin to figure out what is like a premature narwhale other than another premature narwhale.

Frodo Baggins got rich, sold his ring for a rough hewn orcish farm implement
I'm guessing I wrote this after imbibing or else I was studying English at Pembroke College Oxford in 1937 and begged Professor Tolkien to tell me what happened next.

Not because there is always 'one more toy in the shop' but because 'how dare the toymaker' and other metaphors that lie tossed aside and broken upon the feast of St Stephen
The darkness in this gives evidence that this may be the result of one too many pints of vod ale. It is an attempt to articulate rage against our seemingly inherent propensity for 'just one more' in all things. It is explainable I think in the knowledge that our greatest strengths are so often also our greatest weakness; the same 'novelty seeking' trait that leads us to addiction and destructive behaviours is exactly the same one that leads us to discovery and exploration. I admit to being a little pleased with the Boxing day imagery.

Not the going down but how long you lie down - you stare into the abyss it will break you into omnillion pieces - but you stagger sway your pulpy mess to your feet and start again
I don't know, maybe my family put me down for a tortured soul before I was born. I fully appreciate the saying that if you stare into the abyss for long enough it stares back at you.
I quite like the number omnillion.

The abyss is a biatch (sic) of proportions you can not even begin to comprehend, but then again we are human and that whole incomprehendability hasn't really stopped us.
Again with the abyss. I've spent so long staring into the bloody thing I'm probably eligible to have a concession stand next to it. I take comfort in the optimistically recognising the Human capacity not to let a little thing like understanding of what we are up against get in the way of us doing it.

Cell story (?) bedroom oratory
No idea, at a hazardy guess this maybe similar to the Oasis lyric 'tried to start a revolution from your bed' but perhaps I flatter myself.

Otherwise you're just making it up
Yep, sounds about right. It is usually around this time that my brain would start to have an argument with itself and the scribbler part of me would insist on taking notes.

Waffle too much 
See above.

The wine of angels
I'm guessing this is a typical booze fuelled mangling of an expression; I think the original is that 'wine is the tears of angels' . Who knew?