uninvented internet by Simon Aulman

oh no oh dear oh yes still plodding around in circles in this little dry moat of passable time-wasting - it's no problem at all but the problem with being at this level of no-one-gives-a-shit-what-yr-doing is that if you switch from doing something to something-else, then no one gives a shit, sometimes not even me. Keep on saying that I'll stop doing these clipped distorted wahwahing battery-keyboardings and go back to the other stuff - but that's another thing - there's a whole fucking film and music-magazine industry built out of Bob Dylan plugging in a guitar, but if yr down here and you zap in a new set of batteries in yr keyboard one week and take them out the next, no one makes a film about it.

But nothing musicians ever do is ever remotely interesting - ever. This morning I watched that "Laurel Canyon" 2-part documentary thing from a few years ago. Part one (Joni, CSNY etc) was good, part two (Eagles, Jackson Brown, Linda Ronstadt) was of course rubbish, but either way no one ever said anything interesting or did anything interesting and all it was was some nice tunes and scenes of sunshine - it's great that everything everyone does is so useless and boring and stupid and whenever anyone starts talking you just want them to stop and go away. The pressure's off - your life can be whatever you want it to be.

Today it's going to be sunny but I am too happy and high to need/want to go on the walk that I thought I was going to go on. Instead I only need to stay at home and let the sun warm the house and lie on the sofa and finish reading my book - Roger Deakin's Notes From Walnut Tree Farm .... yes life is so incredibly full of coincidences like this - I was at Walnut Tree Inn (Soton) a few days ago and when I got back home this was on top of the to-read list.

I ought to love Roger D, just as I ought to love the people who do other things like I do, but I never do - all that crowd of Roger and Derek Jarman and Richard Mabey and Ian Sinclair and Robert Macfarlane and John Stempel (?) Thingummy and Adam Nicholson and Sebald etc etc etc they all seem(ed) so phoney and too constipated and calculating.

recorded lately, photo Soton a couple of days ago