Ideas are fickle, though, aren't they? When you're walking around or driving down the motorway they're all there, like mongrel pups, clamouring at their mother's languid pap. What if snow was blue? What if an albatross could communicate by winking? How successfully could an entire cast of penguins pull off the musical HMS Pinafore, given limitless amounts of optimism and training? Meditative contemplation? You've had it mate. There's no such thing as the quiet mind. As soon as you get a minute to yourself, the floodgates seem to open. But how many times have you reached for a pen after such bolts of inspiration, only to find the car/toilet/motorway bridge bereft of such luxury? Those ideas evaporated and were forgotten because we simply didn't have time. Well now I do. Time to consider and sort the correct matched pairing of a sock, to read a paper from cover to cover instead of just front page and Sports, to roll a herbal cigarette of perfect conical shape instead of a hastily rumpled windsock Because, like many others subsumed in the turdy spume of this global economic tsunami, I am - dun-dun-DUNNN 'Redundant Man'.
So expect to see bits and bobs of opinion and discovery. Random recycled forum posts from wayoftherodent, for when I can't be bothered. Articles, poems and flash fiction. Snatches of screen and radio plays, maybe a memoir or two, all hopefully enlightening in much the same way that Socks, paper and Rizlas can be. Or not.