Archive for the Random Category

Shiny Award Thingy from Mental Nurse

Posted in Moods, Random with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on Friday, 1 January, 2010 by Pandora

I know some of you follow the insightful and informative Mental Nurse blog, written by…er…mental nurses. As regular readers of it will know, each Saturday (usually) they publish a review of that week’s musings in the mental health blogosphere, terming their summation ‘This Week in Mentalists’. I was featured once, with the child sex abuse post, catapulting it to the most read spot on my blog.

Anyway, at the end of the year Mental Nurse let their readership vote on the best blogs in given categories, and this year’s winners and runners-up have just been announced. No, yours truly has not won anything, as in I have not come first or owt like that…but this blog did come joint third in the Personality Disorder category.

😀 😀 😀

This Week in Mentalists Award Winner 2009

First place in the category went to the very worthy winner of Genius Gone Wrong, whose blog I follow and whose comments I have had the honour of having here. Second place was Becoming Hannah, and my fellow third-placed contender was Writing in the Margins of My Mind. I shall look forward to reading these blogs, plus other mental health blogs that were featured as winners.

Thank you to all who voted for this blog. It was an honour to even be mentioned as a possible contender, never mind to be actually placed. I really do feel very honoured.

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Reflections on 2009

Posted in C, Everyday Life, Moods, psychiatry, Psychotherapy, Random, Random Mental Health Related Philosophising with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on Thursday, 31 December, 2009 by Pandora

Wasn’t it 1992 that the Queen said was her annus horribilis?  Well, let’s fast forward 17 years to now, New Year’s Eve, 2009. This year has turned out to be the annus horribilis of your humble narrator – mostly. I’ve been on the brink of sectioning on a number of occasions, the brink of suicide on others, I’ve developed serious psychoses, I’ve been twatted by the system and I lost my job.  Yet, there are a few glimmers of non-shit somewhere in there.

To that end, here, for your dubious delectation, is the good, the bad and the ugly (well, the bad and good anyway) of the last 12 months in the world of this PsychoFreakBitch…


Being Mental

Perhaps rather obvious, but yeah, being mental hasn’t been a great deal of fun.  I know I’ve argued that if I could flick that figurative switch to the sanity setting I wouldn’t do so, and I still hold to that, but nevertheless, the panics, depressions, mixed states, psychoses and frantic states are not exactly things that I enjoy.

As you know, faithful, darling readers, I have been mental for many years – my first diagnosis was in 1998, but in reality I did have some manifestations of madness well before that juncture.  However, 2009 was by far the worst year for it, as I think most of those close to me would attest.  The dysphorias, the exceptional levels of anxiety and the psychoses, all having existed before, have been exacerbated so considerably during the last 12 months.  I’m not sure why; maybe it is the intensity of psychotherapy, maybe it’s medication, maybe it’s simply the ‘proper’ development of BPD and/or bipolar disorder, given as they tend to manifest most strongly in one’s 20s, maybe it’s another psychiatric illness altogether.  Maybe it’s nothing more than coincidence.  Either way, it is.

Specific Issues on Mentalism

–> Psychoses

Tom was alright, but ‘They’ have been a hideous bloody curse.  Even with the anti-psychotic, ‘They’ are almost ever-present, though their severity was mostly reduced with said medication.  The worst manifestations of ‘They’ were when they tried to get me to kill myself and, worse again, when they wanted me to kill MW on Christmas Day.

Of course, the psychotic symptoms were not limited to hearing voices.  The shapes continued amok throughout 2009, though in retrospect I think I can say that I maybe noticed some abatement of their severity when I started taking Olanzapine.  However, I also developed new hallucinations, such as music, knocking and whimpering.  And I hallucinated my erstwhile stalker once.  Fuckin’ A.

Oh, and let’s not forget the delusions – A was in collusion with GCHQ, the sun and signs were watching and/or communicating with me, ‘They’ steal the thoughts from my mind, my cousin ScumFan was a drug dealer, A was not A but A’s sister, yadda yadda.

–> Dissociation

This has been pretty fucking annoying and at times highly disturbing.  There have been a number of times that I have found myself in dissociative fugue states – being in random places some distance from home, having no idea how or why I got there.  I need not explain the potential implications of these (admittedly relatively minor) fugues to my readership.

Of course, it does not take a fugue to make a dissociative episode.  Despite my ability to write 3,000 or more words on my sessions with C, my psychotherapist, it is not infrequent for me to dissociate parts of these meetings, particularly (unsurprisingly) when we are tackling something difficult together.  Several of the fugues have been in the wake of sessions with C.

I’ve also found myself in amnesiac states during or after arguments or highly stressful events, and of course I have the standard BPD features of depersonalisation and derealisation – forms of dissociation, I believe – on a frequent basis.

Although I’ve experienced depersonalisation and derealisation for years, I’ve only knowingly experienced full dissociative episodes – ie. proper periods of amnesia, losing time – in the last year.  Well…maybe it began in 2008, but it would mostly have been in 2009.

However, I only remember the rape and other parts of the sexual abuse in flashbacks, for example, and in discussion with C we have found that I have many ‘symptoms’ characteristic of someone who dissociated something traumatic in childhood.  The suggestion has been that, given the strength and quantity of these symptoms, there may be more than I don’t consciously remember.  I hate the idea for its own sake, obviously, but I hate it even more by virtue of the fact that it is not recalled (if indeed it did happen); it leaves me with a distinct lack of control over how I now react to triggers.  Perhaps that can be addressed in therapy over time (if therapy even fucking continues over time).

–>  Self-Harm

Is self-harm even bad?  Sometimes I really do wonder.  As a way to cope, it works.  As a way to fascinate (by virtue of watching the beautiful krovvy), it works.  As a way to seek absolution, it works (albeit temporarily).

Still, it serves as a permanent record of a very horrible year of my life, and I suppose in that way it could be considered a bad thing.  It’s something that, as of this writing, I feel quite nonchalantly about, but who’s to say in 10 years or something, I won’t look at my scars and feel triggered back into mentalism from which I may have found some relief?

I’m classing this as a bad thing of this year because, prior to 2009, I hadn’t engaged in any serious self-harm for years.  2009 saw it return on a relatively frequent basis.

Losing My Job

In reality, I was nowhere near as upset about this as I should have been, but one thing I really do detest is being in the hateful position of being dependent on the state for my living.  I had always dreamed of a career (not just a job) and the opportunity to use my intellect in a meaningful fashion.  I did not want to end up being a dolescum, and this is still something that I am hoping to change in seeking treatment for my madness.

So I suppose that is the worst part of losing my job; I now am officially everything that I never wanted to be in my adult life.  It’s also awkward from the perspective of my developing my career; having to explain a gap in employment of whatever length and an incapability dismissal will not be a lot of fun.

Trouble with the NHS

It all started with all the trouble with getting an appointment with, and then sustaining appointments with, the VCB.  Then C waded into the quagmire with his ‘I can only offer you 24 more sessions’ bullshit.  As you know, of course, I am fighting this.

Then there was Dr Arsehole just before Christmas (about whom I will write in the next ‘C’ installment), and the latest is that I have an appointment with Psychiatry on 20 January (more than a month after I was meant to have my most recent review appointment)…but not with VCB!  No, readers, apparently I am seeing ‘Dr M’.  What in the fuck..?  I might not like VCB, but at least I had got to know her to some extent.  But now they’re fucking me about again.  Arsecunt.


It was fucking God-awful dreadful.  Enough said.


Not C himself; of course I don’t know the man in any realistic way, but my sense of him is positive.  OK, he does wind me up sometimes, and it is not at all unknown for him to actually anger me, but generally I am very fond of the man, regardless of whether or not that is simply a case of transference.  However, psychotherapy is not a fun process.  It’s not fun at all.  In fact, I believe firmly that it has made me more mental than I already was.

It therefore seems ridiculous to continue with it, but there’s method in the madness…



‘Him again?  You just said he was a bad thing in this year!’

Yeah, I did, but he’s also been one of the most fabulous things.  Aside from my absolutely obsessive attachment to him, which I am pretty sure I wouldn’t have were I not very fond of him in a non-transferential sense, I believe the therapy is good for me, and is working.  Yes, it has made me more mental, but I believe this is a temporary state.

In being forced to (re)live some of the most horrible things about my past and, to a lesser extent, my present and potential future, it seems inevitable to me that my conditions would be exacerbated.  I had to get worse before I get better.  That was what I expected well before I commenced therapy with C, and that is still my belief.

Additionally, and this is probably related to the transference issues, C is the only person to whom I will talk completely openly.  For a long time, I would literally discuss many (not all) things with him, but it is only in the last couple of months that I really have stopped abstracting things.  I’ve now let my guard down and allow myself to be vulnerable around him, and I trust him.  That kind of relationship, however strangely asymmetrical, is a big achievement for me, and I think if it is allowed to continue as it should that it will pay dividends in terms of my mental health.


Some people hate them.  There are a number of other mental health bloggers for whom I have the utmost respect that consider diagnoses ‘diagnonsense’.  I do get where they’re coming from, but I am grateful for mine.

It helps me to be able to attribute certain symptoms to an actual illness.  Now I’m not saying I use the conditions as excuses, but they do explain some erratic and bizarre behaviour, and I find that rather comforting.  Furthermore, in saying I have certain illnesses, it makes my range of symptoms part of something, rather than just a nebulous bunch of ‘things’; quantifying it in this way makes it seem more real, I am convinced, to others.  Just throwing the term ‘depression’ out makes it sound like a cop-out (NB. please note that this is not my view of real depression at all – I just think that some people, ignorant of mental health issues, view the word this way.  They believe that “I have depression” equals “I’m depressed,”, which of course those of us who have been there know to be a fallacy).

One further positive I’d add about the diagnoses is that they have enabled me to connect with others that have the same (or similar) disorders.  I will be eternally grateful for that, and for the support and kinship those individuals have given me (see more on this below).


Our holiday to Turkey back in September was probably the happiest time of this year.  As I wrote at the time, I felt entirely contented throughout our stay, and indeed we enjoyed it so much that we are returning to a resort close to the one from 2009 again in May 2010.  I will never forget the crystal clear waters, the warmth of the locals and the sheer relaxation of lying about in secluded coves.  Whilst reading Social Factors in the Personality Disorders: A Biopsychosocial Approach to Etiology and Treatment, of course.  I mean, obviously!!!

This Blog

I will always be thankful that I started writing this blog, and indeed that I kept writing this blog.  My initial hope was that it might help me to identify triggers, but to be honest in that regard it hasn’t been as successful as I might have liked.  It has, however, given me a focus – writing is an activity that, despite the sometime difficulty of it, is something that I enjoy, and can direct my energy towards.  It also serves as a chronicle of what has been an extremely difficult period in my life, but one that is also likely to be a highly formative one too, if I don’t end up offing myself.  I’ve found it fascinating to rediscover diaries I kept in the past, and no doubt I shall find the same with this – though I hope that I will still be maintaining this journal well into the future.

I’ve been ever so grateful for the wonderful feedback I’ve been given on this blog too.  Some people find my writing style engaging, which is a huge compliment; others find solace in the fact that they are not alone, as what I’ve written correlates with their experiences and/or feelings; yet others seem to be grateful to learn directly what everyday life, therapy or whatever with my various diagnoses is like.

On a similar note, the blog has enabled me to meet so many people with whom I have found affinity.


By far the best thing I have done this year was join Twitter (I’ve met many brilliant people through the account allied to this blog, but even more again through my ‘main’, slightly less anonymous, account).  I have met so many wonderful people – both mentals and non-mentals – through this service that I could not possibly thank them all here, much as I’d like to.  The support, friendship, empathy and, frankly, in some cases love that I have been shown has been a source of immeasurable help, more than the personnel concerned will ever know.

–>  Thank Yous – Twitter

@woundedgenius / @behindthecouch

* Both of whom I now consider ‘real life’ friends – I have met K and communicate with her most days; I haven’t met CVM, but again communicate with her most days and certainly will meet her when finances and circumstances allow the travel.  I love them both.

The above is far from an exhaustive list, but there are others that I cannot mention to protect either their or my anonymity.  Some to whom I am incredibly grateful are not even aware of the fact that I write this blog.  That does not mean I value them less, however.

–> Thank Yous – Blogging Buddies

Some of the above-named individuals of course keep blogs, but they are not people I met originally through this medium.  The following are.  Thank you to:

Alix Rites
Crazy Mermaid
Borderline Case
The Prozac Queen
NiroZ (no longer blogging, alas)

Again this is not an exhaustive list.

It is my honestly held belief that were it not for the aforementioned individuals – both the Twitter friends and blogging mates – I would either have killed myself or been horribly sectioned this year.  So thank you to all of you listed, to many not listed, and extra special thanks to a select few – I hope you know who you are.


Of course, real life friends have been of immense value to me this year too.  I haven’t been fortunate enough to see my best friend D an awful lot, but we’ve have corresponded via email and communicated via the hated telephonic device, so of course I am very grateful for his support.  In spite of an acrimonious break-up of a serious relationship, not to mention other problems, D has still been there for me through all of this sorry year, and for that I am significantly in his debt.

B has also been very supportive.  It’s not that we tend to go into great detail about issues of concern, but he’s just there, and that means a lot.  In particular, like D, his ability to provide a metaphorical shoulder to cry on whilst dealing with significant difficulties in his own personal life is testament to his integrity and the strength of his friendship.

AC has also been great; as well as actually giving a shit and supporting me through mental illness, AC has also been there just for those ordinary, everyday things that friends do together – the theatre, lunch, whatever.  I also must hat-tip DL for this too.

Honourable mentions to A’s friends and family too.  Even though they’re (mostly) not conversant with the finer points of my mentalism, they nonetheless have been a source of fun and comfort.

And of course a re-acknowledgement of CVM and K 🙂


Saving the best for last.  He’s seen it all, and it all ain’t pretty.  Yet he is still there.  Still loving, still comforting, still supporting, still protecting, still fighting the corner, still providing, still entertaining, still staying sane.

There are no words.  ‘Thank you’ seems so woefully inadequate, but it is all I have.  I just want to make it publically known that I will always owe a debt of gratitude to A for everything he has put up with this year.


This post might lead you to believe that there was more good than bad this year, and I suppose in the most objective of senses that may be true.  This is why something like CBT will never work therapy-wise for me; it doesn’t matter how much evidence there is or is not for a belief – the belief is still held.  The reasons for the belief need to be explored fully and processed.  But I digress.  My point: 2009 was an absolutely fucking shit year, and I will be glad to see the end of it.

But I have hope.  A small glimmer thereof, but a glimmer nonetheless.  Not of a miraculous cure, but of some stability maybe.  With the help of C (I hope) and the love and support of my fabulous friends, both those in the physical world and those online, there might just be a path to stability somewhere down the line.

Happy New Year folks.  If ‘happy’ is ambitious, then at least I wish you peace and something approaching sanity in 2010.

Yours ever

SI x

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Wanking Yourself Sane (or at Least Calmer)

Posted in Psychotherapy, Random, Random Mental Health Related Philosophising with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on Tuesday, 1 December, 2009 by Pandora

First Signs are a UK-based charitable organisation devoted to the prevention, or at least the minimisation of, self-harm.  Whilst as regular readers of this blog will know, I don’t really see the big issue with (controlled) self-harm, I can and do admire the work that FS are undertaking.  If nothing else, at least they’re raising awareness on the issue – why people self-harm, that most people who do it aren’t dangerous to normals and so on.

However, as you can see from the title this isn’t a post espousing the worthwhile cause of this user-led charity.  I am writing in response to this supposed distraction technique.  Yes, folks, they are arguing that bringing yourself off is a viable alternative to cutting or burning yourself.  Riiiiight.

I read a lot of articles on psychiatry and psychology, much to the detriment of my Twitter followers (not so much on the account allied to this blog), but I rarely feel the need to respond to them.  However, I just find this article so ridiculous that in this case I felt compelled to do so.

The first thing that struck me about the piece was that FS had devoted the entire thing to masturbation.  I mean, even if you do accept that wanking is a credible alternative to self-harm, it’s not the only distraction technique that exists out there.  When C and I first discussed the stupid DBT bullshit way back in week 12 of our therapy, some of the stuff in the material he gave me was devoted to distracting oneself – and, as it happens, masturbation was mentioned (to which I responded with an ‘LOL’ which I know is really rather puerile)…but the difference was, it was only mentioned in passing, as one technique amongst dozens available.  No 1,300 word article on this topic per se was deemed to be required.

Personally, I think distraction techniques are all bollocks, but that’s not really the point.  The point is, to what extent is masturbation really a viable alternative to self-injury?

FS pose this question:

When you’re urging to hurt yourself, aren’t you looking for a release, and some relief from the emotional distress you’re having trouble coping with?

This basically forms the central tenet of their entire argument as far as I can see.  In fact, looking again at the article, it seems to be their only tenet.  What a convincing argument they must have if they only have one major thread to their point.

That said, OK – successfully orgasming undoubtedly does relieve tension, and no doubt endorphins are released upon climax just as they are in cutting.  But for goodness sake, how obvious is it that it is an entirely different type of release?!

I wrote about the satisfaction, if that’s the correct term, that I get from self-harm in this post a few weeks ago.  I suppose my main point was that bloodletting is beautiful because one feels, temporarily, that they are watching their own evil flow away along with their blood.

Which, to be objective, is the only point I really made – but it feeds into the idea that many people will injure themselves as some sort of ritualistic punishment for their perceived inherent evil, or for the self-disgust they feel.  I know I have been known to cut for this reason.

Why, then, would I allow myself the satisfaction of a pleasurable activity?  If I am a bad person, I need some obvious form of punishment, not a reward, whether that’s sexual or otherwise.  Now, satisfaction is undoubtedly garnered from the ‘punishment’ of cutting – but it’s not a premeditated satisfaction (masturbation is in my view, even if a sexual urge comes on one quickly, because it usually has a clear objective that one is trying to meet).  And in any case, the satisfaction is, primarily, mental, not physical (which is all masturbation, unless conducted mutually with a partner, can ever be).  You are satisfied because you have done what needed to be done to this bad individual; you have hurt them.

Of course, that’s only one aspect of self-harm.  One other major function of it is to reorientate oneself when going doolally or, as FS admit, to release some psychic pain in the same circumstances.

Now let me get this straight.  When I am going off my head in a mixed state or panic attack, am I seriously going to sit down and analyse distraction techniques (this is why I think they are all complete arse, as discussed here, for example, or there’s always this epic rant specifically about methods of distraction)?!  In particular, am I going to think, “Christ, life is so fucking terrible right now…an orgasm would make it better”?  Well, maybe it would actually, in an ephemeral sort of way, but would that really be forefront in my mind?  The idea, as any one who’s experienced such a state will appreciate, is ludicrous.

All one can think about when going mental is the mentalism.  The ‘decision’ to harm, if it can be termed that as it is not always conscious, is almost innate.  OK, so sexuality is innate too, but there the comparisons end.  Perhaps the reason for the visceral nature of self-harm in these circumstances is simply that its effects are instantaneous (my mantra to C: “it’s quick and it works”).  Even if we (erroneously) were to agree that an orgasm can have exactly the same physiological effects as self-harm, time (for most women but I reckon to some extent blokes too) is required.  One does not feel like they have time when one is going mental.

Another issue that escapes them, and my aforementioned post on blood being beautiful ties in with this, is that cutting isn’t always about pain or distraction; sometimes it’s about blood.  Personally speaking, I love watching the blood.  Occasionally I cut only to watch the blood and how it flows.  Again, if we make the false assumption that orgasm release = cutting release, where is anything tactile or tangible from that?  FS do state that “…masturbation doesn’t cause any physical problems..,” and in doing so of course acknowledge that cutting can and does of course have physical consequences – but, as I said, they miss the point that that can be exactly why it is done in the first place.

Above all, what antagonises me most about this article is how it trivialises the issue of self-injury.  Now, I don’t think it’s a big deal if done under controlled circumstances, but neither do I think it can simply be equated as having similar physical and mental properties as something that most people have done in their lives and that is seen, rightly or wrongly, as something to be sniggered about at the back of a classroom.

FS state several times in the article that they fully recognise that self-harm is a serious issue, and to be fair they wouldn’t exist in the first place if they didn’t think so.  Nevertheless, singling out masturbation as a distraction technique in this fashion strikes me as counting it as some sort of panacea in a path to recovery from self-harm.  That probably wasn’t their aim, and what they have written was clearly with the best of intentions, but it has sadly worked out as over-simplified and utterly ineffective.

It may seem like I’m saying, “fuck distraction techniques, self-harm for the win!” in this and other posts – I am not.  This may be what I think for myself, but I would not advocate such for anyone else.  One thing FS got right in this article was to remember that everyone is different, and so other cutters / burners / whateverers may find a range of distractions, including this one, effective.  To that end may I reiterate that I admire the work that First Signs do; I applaud their very existence.

But wanking is never going to be a viable alternative to the scalpel for me.  Sorry folks.

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How to be a Serial Insomniac: Lesson One

Posted in Everyday Life, Moods, Random with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on Saturday, 12 September, 2009 by Pandora

Come to Turkey, and drink some of this:

I was totally manic yesterday, and no doubt this Turkish coffee will induce more of the same, but it’s just so good. A asked me at the airport yesterday if I was on drugs, such was my mania. Then he laughed at me. People around us were looking at me as if I was a freak. Which to be fair I was (am).

A said I should blog about it, but I was way too restless to do that. I’m in a good mood today (!) but not manic, so it’s hard to describe. Anyway, I’m sitting in a Turkish coffee shop writing this on my phone, so it’s not the ideal medium to communicate it anyway. I will try to do so at another juncture, though.

I didn’t get publishing the draft post about Lovely GP and C and the aftermath of the psychiatric disaster of Tuesday, because even plane safe phones weren’t allowed to be switched on during the flight (what the fuck?). But I’ll get there.

For now, though, I’m going to concentrate on trying to enjoy my holiday. A and I are both in relaxed and good moods, which is a ridiculously unusual occurrence (we estimate the last time this happened was when we were in Lanzarote in May 2008). So we had better take advantage of it.

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One More for the Road…

Posted in Random with tags , , , on Thursday, 10 September, 2009 by Pandora

I’m still avoiding packing, and it’s almost 10.30pm.  Below is the latest time-waster.

Wordle: Confessions of a Serial Insomniac

This is an analysis of some of the language I’ve used on the blog.  It’s only of recent posts (ie. those available on the first ((main)) page, as far as I can tell), and it filters out common words and letters (meaning no allusions to A or C, despite them being two of the most commonly referenced aspects of my life here), but I thought it was interesting nevertheless.

I really am going to pack now.

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SI on Tour!

Posted in Random with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on Thursday, 10 September, 2009 by Pandora

Merhaba arkadaş,

Wow-ee, w00t, I’m a rockstar on tour.  Or not.

I’m going on holiday tomorrow.  There is an inherent irony in heading to a mainly Islamic country (Türkiye Cumhuriyeti) on the anniversary of the World Trade Centre attacks, so much so apparently that the travel agents had tomorrow’s departure at a good bit cheaper than either last week or next week.  (NB.  Please do not think for one second that I am equating the Muslim faith with terrorism; I most certainly am not.  I’m just not very PC.  Get-out-qualification – many more acts of violence committed in the name of atheism, Christianity, blah blah.  Query – if ‘Christianity’ and ‘Islam’ both open with capital letters, does that mean I should have written ‘Atheism’ above instead?  In not believing, am I part of a slightly dishevelled but nevertheless kind-of-organised religion myself?).

You can probably tell by this blabber that I am procrastinating about packing.  I am on A’s PC to, ostensibly, sync my iPhone and iPod in preparation for tomorrow’s travelling.  In reality I’m fucking about to waste time and avoid the most hideously dull task imaginable to man, aside from sitting through any Sandra Bullock film.

Anyway, I’m writing this merely to advise any of you mad enough to keep tracks of this blog that things will not be quite the same for the next fortnight-ish (I can hear the en masse “thank fuck”s from here).  I’m a complete iPhone data whore, so I will not drop off the face of the blogoTwittersphere by any means, but don’t except any deep psychological discussions.  Well, unless I go mental, in which case I may feel compelled to articulate my thoughts to the world wide web for some sort of electronic catharsis or e-whoring.

I have got one post in preparation regarding the rest of this week’s dubiously interesting events, which I intend to write on the plane tomorrow and upload as soon as possible after getting to our destination in Turkey, but aside from that, you’ll only (hopefully) get a few short updates with a few “ooh-look-at me-in-the-sunshine-whilst-it-pisses-in-Ireland” pics thrown in here and there (now it will probably piss in Turkey and shine like blazes here).

For those of you with whom I am in email touch, I can’t promise any lengthy prose from that medium either (“thank Christ”), but I’ll certainly try to check in.

Who knows, if I’m feeling generous I may share a (very cryptic) image of myself…inşallah

Well, until we meet again, my friends, hoşça kalın ve seni seviyorum.
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Lego Does Bo Rhap

Posted in Random with tags , , , , , , , , on Monday, 11 May, 2009 by Pandora

Very off my usual litany-topics, but I had to share this.  From the ‘About the Serial Insomniac‘ page, you will know that Queen is my favourite band ever.  I have all their albums, and a lot of rare material too.  I have most of the solo stuff undertaken by Freddie, Brian and Roger.  In fact, there is nothing I don’t know about them and a long time ago, before my life was completely consumed by inertia and malaise, I used to be the webmaster of a very comprehensive website on them (dead now, alas).  I am furious with my parents for not procreating ten years earlier so I could have seen the real Queen live.  I did see Queen plus Paul Rodgers (involving Brian, Roger and of course Paul Rodgers but not, sadly, John Deacon and, quite obviously, not Freddie), but whilst it was great, it could never ever be the same.

So I am a big fan.  But I never made any tribute quite like this.

It is utterly ridiculous to have made a video of Bohemian Rhapsody out of Lego characters, but that does not make it any less fabulous.  I bow in shame to the creators of this video; they make me look like an amateur fan.  How much time would it take to have made this amazing thing?!  You’d have to be a hardcore fan (not to mention a dab-hand at video editing, but that’s an aside).  I thought I was a hardcore fan, but clearly I am a lightweight.  I fail at Queen worship.

Just brilliant.  It has fair cheered me up this morning.  Thanks to people on Twitter for bringing it to my attention.  Apparently others on YouTube have done similar videos for Metallica, another band I love, so I am off to check that out now!

Forgive this momentary blip of pseudo-exuberance.  Normal miserable service will be resumed shortly, especially with the bloody OHS shite tomorrow, of that I am certain!

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