Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Drej said something cool tonight – while buying me street vendor pancakes. We went to a literary evening, a book launch from a guy we know, which was Hell. The book was okay, nothing at all special, just his anecdotes about being a tour guide, cynical, condescending and cherry picked accounts that were to illustrate the primitive nature of our countrymen versus the honest splendour of Thai people and their drinking and fucking habits… It was grotesque and the way people in the audience laughed was turning my stomach. The anal mountaineering by the publishers was so sickening, I shook towards the end. How "our whole nation will profit from a book like this" – and he meant it. Because he truly believed, the man who runs the most ‘high end’ publications and gets to picks the award nominees, that our country is so gutter-level, a book like this is remedy.
Guess it’s gutter-level now.
So Drej – who stands an iota more to ever get published by people like that, also because she’s the type to seek them out and shake their hand charmingly - seeing I was upset, said that the reason she doesn’t claw her way up the asses of people like those, is because if she ever succeeded – getting up into the asses of those, that is where she would be: published and one of THOSE people. 
The final bit was me trying to stand up and exit when the event was over, because Drej wanted the beat the crowd to getting the book by the counter, and the man whom I asked to move a little in his seat looked at me and ignored me. I took great pleasure climbing over him rather painfully and quite hurriedly and apologising loudly. 
I am so out of this fucking circle it’s not even funny. If I could forget the publisher and forget this night, I would do so gladly. I KNOW some day, if I want to see Goose lit, I will have to suck some proverbial dicks. But it wont be these.

Reading Tolstoy’s short stories and William Morris’s The House of the Wolfings. Morris’s novel is the introduction the world into the genre of ‘high fantasy’, a genre unlike any other until then, based on Norse myths and where places and characters such as Mirkwood, Gandolf and his horse Silverfax and the like come from…60 years before Tolkien.