Category Archives: Social

Dad’s Last Words…

I got a letter from my dad today, which would not have arrived as such a great surprise had my father not died in 2004… and this letter had been written at least five years before that.

In the two pages of emotive prose, my father apologises, says that he loves me, and basically asks for forgiveness in a way that he would never have been able to do in person. He also left his address and phone number should I ever wish to get back in touch and rebuild a few of the bridges he had spent years burning.

At the end of the letter, in capitals, are the words EDDIE LIVES! It’s a phrase that means nothing unless you’ve seen Eddie & the Cruisers II… something which carries a crazy ironic weight, because that movie was about a famous singer presumed dead only to be discovered alive twenty years later.

Of course, I didn’t get the chance to reconnect because the letter was kept a secret from me for two decades. Maybe I wouldn’t have contacted him at all; or perhaps I would have done so just to tell him to fuck off. The truth is I don’t know how I would have reacted twenty years ago, but the point is, it should have been my decision to make, and not just another skeleton in an already bone-riddled closet.

Tasting His Cherry Chapstick…

try-or-die1_fa_rszdSo my first kiss in the year 2018 was shared with a guy, which is totally fine – we should all strive to experience new things, while we are still young enough to enjoy them – and although it is true that he was a better kisser than most of the girls I have had the pleasure of interacting with since my lips began actively seeking out others, this is not really what I meant when I internally concluded that this year I wanted to expand my horizons.

Still… I’ve had worse starts to the year.

An Odd Parallel…

When I turned twenty-five I dumped the seventeen year old girl I was going out with because she had never seen my favourite movie, Die Hard.

Now I’m forty-one, and the twenty-five year old girl I was with today has also never seen my favourite movie, Die Hard.

What is wrong with you people? Please end this cycle. Go and watch my favourite movie, Die Hard.

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Shame is the Price of Passion…

Dementia is more than just a room full of elderly men and women sitting in orphaned armchairs around a television that’s been cranked up so loud that you feel the volume coming through the soles of your shoes.

It’s more than the old man with medals pinned to his chest, who speaks to me as if we are lifelong friends – even though I have never seen him before. He asks me if I know why his wife hasn’t been to visit him for years, and with the very next breath he tells me that she died during the war.

It’s more than the old woman who taps my shoulder every day and continually asks me for a pen so that she can write down the seven digit number that she just keeps repeating over and over and over, until now, it’s something that I’m sure will bounce around inside my head until something else pushes it out.

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One of the first three paragraphs is entirely fiction. I made it up. Call me an unreliable narrator… because dementia is more than all of those things. Dementia is also material, for whatever I happen to be writing at the time, or perhaps something I haven’t even started yet. And while that sounds extremely brutal and self-serving, to use a phrase that I absolutely loathe: it is what it is.

Being around the disease daily – I’m ashamed to admit – stimulates the creative juices within me. I love the random and unique conversations I overhear or become a part of while visiting my grandma; nuance and detail that I otherwise may have missed. Nursing homes are (ironically) extremely deep wells of experience, and rich with the history of the individuals who live there.

Now, I’m not advocating a field trip to your local old folk’s home if you don’t have a relative or friend there who you care about, but those little moments have become a crucial side effect of the excursion.

So whenever I doubt myself or try to dismiss the blood, sweat, and tears that I’ve put in to my words over the years, it’s guilty moments like these that remind me: yes, motherfucker, you are a writer.

And if I’m doing all that while I’m there, I guess I really must be.

And Many More…

kingStephen King turned seventy years old today.a3c5ede143cc4dda46bc7d2e615e2fff--stephen-king-books-stephen-kings

Wow.

Yeah, we all grow up; we all get older. One day we all die. We shouldn’t ever be taken by surprise by these things, yet somehow there’s always one that catches us off guard. I still think of him as the guy on the left… although he’s now closer to this guy on the right.

Stephen King has been a part of my life for over twenty-five years – his words, his ideas. He has influenced me as a writer much more than I would care to admit. Hell, for a while all I was doing was a bad impression of him – at least, that’s how I saw it.

I feel like I know him just a little bit, even though I don’t actually know him at all. Never met him; never will. And that right there is the genius of a great writer. King’s ability to make an ordinary situation, extraordinary, and his knack for building characters that feel so real, you would not be surprised to turn the corner and bump into them, is something I have admired from afar for many years. That’s the power of imagination. Being able to harness that and making it a reality – even a fictional one – is worthy of applause.

My relationship with King has had its ups and downs over the years, for sure. He has written some stuff that has not done much for me – I’m not the kind of narrow-minded fan who can’t admit that. The Talisman. Dreamcatcher. And as much as it pains me to say, even most of The Dark Tower series. None of those set my world on fire. But when he gets it right, which he does more often than not, his words have the ability to soar. The Eyes of the Dragon. Misery. Needful Things. And many others. Classics.

Go read them.

Happy birthday, sir.

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This is What’s Under the Bed…

I’ve written hundreds of stories in my life, over a million words (you’ll have to trust me on that one). I’ve written comedies and thrillers. I’ve written romance and drama. I’ve written sci-fi and fantasy. I’ve written westerns and stuff for kids. I’ve even penned some erotica (much to my mother’s embarrassment), but what I’m writing now is possibly the first real monster story I’ve tried… well, ever.

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I mention this only because for the longest time – in my head – I was a horror writer. I think somewhere in there I still am. I read horror and that’s what I wrote, or so I thought. But looking back over those hundreds of titles and those million words, it turns out that very little of it would actually fit in the boundaries of the genre. Maybe ten percent; fifteen at a push.

I’ve always wanted to write a pure, no-nonsense monster tale – one that doesn’t necessarily live in the real world, and doesn’t feel the need to apologise or explain itself either. Sometimes horror just is and creatures just are.

This may just be my first time.

The Hype Train Rolls In…

Watch-Mayweather-vs-McGregor-OnlineSo, did you hear? The circus is coming to town.

The bout between Floyd Mayweather Jr and Conor McGregor tonight is being billed as the biggest fight for years, but it’s really nothing of the sort. It’s nothing more than a money-making exercise by greedy advertisers and even greedier competitors, who understand that they can make hundreds of millions of dollars by depending on the general public’s insatiable appetite for celebrity garbage. All we’re doing is making two wealthy guys a lot more money. Well done everybody, well done.

But the craziest thing about this whole media frenzy is that despite the confrontation being so lop-sided that it should be nothing more than a glorified sparring session for Floyd, the marketing along the way has been so insidious and disingenuous that there are actually pockets of fans who give Conor a fighting chance of victory. Are you kidding me? I don’t know whether to shake my head at the impressive depth of public gullibility on display, or applaud the advertisers for managing to spin it in such a way as to make this seem like a fair fight.

409d8444649ca9e476c09b985639272cDoes McGregor have a chance against Mayweather? Sure. Of course he does. In much the same way that I would have if you slapped a pair of gloves on me and sat me down in front of a Rocky box set to prepare. Just because McGregor busts people up in the UFC for breakfast doesn’t mean he can hang in a boxing match with one of the best fighters, well… ever. It’s no less ridiculous than Mo Farah taking on Usain Bolt over 100 metres. Sure they’re both athletes, both runners, but Bolt would have to leave his motor skills at home for Mo to break the tape first. It’s laughable.

If Mayweather shows up at ringside healthy, he wins. If Mayweather shows up awake, he wins. Hell, if Mayweather shows up with an eye patch, a broken wrist, and on crutches, he still wins. All right, he probably loses that one on points, but you get the idea. The mismatch is so great that it should qualify as assault.

011316-ufc-Conor-McGregor-pi-mp.vresize.1200.675.high_.251Whether you love him or hate him (and there’s a lot about him to dislike) it’s hard to argue against Mayweather’s credentials. He’s one of the best boxers of this or any other generation. He’s undefeated in 49 professional fights. The only realistic way that McGregor wins is if this entire farce is – to use a pro-wrestling term – ‘a work’. In other words, scripted. And understanding that both men have at least tenuous links to WWE, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if there is some form of theatre involved in the final decision.

I don’t have a horse in this race, so I don’t care either way, but multi-million dollar payday or not, do you think an ego the size of Mayweather would have accepted the match if he thought there was any chance for McGregor – who has never stepped inside a competitive boxing ring – to embarrass him and blemish his otherwise flawless record?

Mayweather by stoppage in Round 9.

Medical Degree Inbound…

I bought this. Now, you can see quite clearly on the front of the box, what it does. To a layman (as most of us are) this is all you require, a handful of easy to understand words. Nothing more is really needed.

And yes, I’m glad it doesn’t affect my make-up.

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Inside, on the information sheet it says this:

EYE SPRAY – Please read carefully before using this product.

All right, fine. Cool. I’ll do that. This is what it says:

Eye spray assists in cases of dry eye sensation and helps to lubricate and moisture the eyelids. It relieves the discomfort of dryness, foreign bodies, burning and itching on the eyelid.

Hyaluronic acid, in the form of sodium hyaluronate, is a biological polysaccharide with the same molecular structure of the intraocular fluids and because of the viscoelasticity and hygroscopic capability, can significantly improve the tear film stability. The application of sodium hyaluronate at ocular level enhances hydration and reduces the risk of the sensation of dry eyes which is frequently associated with contact lens wear.

The tear film layer is formed by apolar lipids, polar lipids, small quantities of free fat acids, sterol esters, free sterols, and phospholipids. These form the interface between the acqueous layer of the tear film and the hydrophobic apolar lipids. The formulation specifically contains phospholipids and fat acids which tend to simulate the lipidic composition of the tear film.

The combined action of phospholipids and hyaluronic acid is therefore stabilizing and has the capacity to maintain and restore stability of the tear film, ensuring moistening of the exposed cornea-conjunctival surface and uniform disposition of the covering tear film.

The hyaluronic acid, as a mucus mimetic, has the capability to simulate some of the properties of the natural tear mucin to restore stability of the tear film.

The Matricaria chamomile extract is particularly advisable for the periocular application, where vitamin C, alfa-bisabolol, guiazulen, camazulen and farmesen, are required as anti-inflammatory, which are present in that extract.

Got that? Good.