How many of these (scroll down, but later) magical masterpieces of Swords and of Sorcery have you read?
E@L has x-ed (and reddened) those he has ploughed through (27 is it?), and y-ed (and purpled) those he owns but hasn’t got around to yet, not in this realm anyway. You’ll notice that he has mainly done the pre-1980 novels and stories as he eventually turned away from such childish fun and adventure, thanks to pressing concerns, and became a boring old man at the age of 23. Maybe he overdid the fantasy schtick at the time… Maybe the guilty indulgences stole his S&S soul?
Anyway, E@L temporarily embedded his blade into Moorcock back in 1977/78 at the urging of a fellow unworldly student radiographer (who went on study for a real job as a dentist while E@L hung around on the cusp of unemployment and failure).
They are so easy to read, these slim volumes, and so much fun, at least once you get a delightedly morbid taste for soul-stealing swords and demon infested nether-realms and lots of gruesome and bloody deaths, and those dead who don’t stay dead, but aren’t zombies either, thankfully, as that would be, like, hey, a cliché.
E@L means, hey, if you're 20 years old, working full-time, studying on the evenings, are newly married and with a young baby to focus on, why wouldn’t you retreat into a fantasy world at every opportunity?
You weren’t free to go surfing on a whim anymore, at the drop of an on-shore wind and the rise of a solid swell…
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[Many years later]
So bring on the black mists and the intrigue of the gods and elementals! And get out your guitar and play some Hawkwind songs (if you know any; E@L doesn’t!).
Let’s scour the realm of second-hand bookstores and of charity store like the Salvos or Vinnies, submit ourselves to the fates of heretical churches and their sly fêtes.
Let’s overflow E@L’s already well fucking overflowing bookshelves with the adolescent fantasy dreamworld of Michael Moorcock!
More Moorcock! More Moorcock!
If you’re wondering WTF; E@L is listening to the audiobooks of the Elric saga on his morning walks, and loving them, hence this post.
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E@L considers his poor — perennially on the knife-edge of failing -- performance in his initial career (radiographer, as mentioned) due to being distracted by these stories of eternal champions like Erokosë, Jerry Cornelius, Dorian Hawkmoon, Corum, and, of course, the pale, thin-blooded, reluctant, emperor, Elric of Melniboné (not MEL-kneebone but Mel-NIB-onay) with Stormbringer, his runesword, the stealer of souls!
It was not just the family stuff.
E@L means, hey, like, awesome, right?
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E@L attributes his poor performance at high school to his being distracted by those surfing whims when it blew off-shore and tide was right and swells were a solid 4-6ft (or lower)…
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E@L attributes his poor performance at surfing (he was OK, but not a star) to his mother being reluctant/unable to buy more and better surfboards for him. And for him being shit-scared of big waves. He could only afford a decent board when he left school and got a job, but see above re-marriage and progeny and work and study, and guess how well that worked out for him.
Not that he is bitter, twisted, and has his hand on the rune-encrusted obsidian pommel of his otherwordly blade…
No, his hand is on a double G&T.
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Phew! Busy guy that Michael Moorcock!
~~~~~~~
Sigh.
E@L considers his poor history with girlfriends (only JUST plural) and wife (singular) to being obsessed with surfing. And himself. And being obsessed by obscure (to many) books, and to only ever learning four songs on his guitar and playing them on heavy repeat for 50 years yet never remembering the chord changes correctly.
And just being a selfish, ignorant dickhead in relationships, with zip EQ (see previous paragraph for pathetic excuses), and so here he is at 67, still alive despite the best effort of the invidious fates, the anger of the chaotic gods and spirits on this realm and others, only by having used the Mechanical Magic of Modern Medicine to confound his destiny and his malicious DNA, sitting alone on his balcony with a double G&T and an iPad, a thorax marred with multiple scars, a gurgling colostomy bag, and a list of the millions of books he hasn’t read, not to mention the one he hasn’t written.
Pleasant enough, right?
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But, oh, this post has gone off the rails suddenly, hasn't it?
But like, hey! What more could one expect from that plate of cheese and crackers, that (second) double G&T, and
E@L
The received wisdom of travel is "wherever you go, there you are.”
The consciousness in a calcium box that you might think(ha!) of as YOU never goes anywhere, not by itself.
The sensations that stimulate it are sort of... arbitrary, dependant on the geolocation of the flesh and bones that support and protect it, that then send electrical impulses to a bunch of cells that create your awareness of externality, when it exists... (The exquisite details of the physical location, the emotions felt in dreams for example, or in hallucinations, don't exist.)
Your senses might be stimulated by views of the 365 chimneys of Chateau Chenonceau, or by the turrets of Neuschwanstein half enveloped in mist as a chilling snow embraces you in the clouds, by the tickle of hungry tropical fish swarming around your feet in the warm waters of Koh Phi Phi, or by the familiar aromas initially and then a burning on the lips and tongue as the plethora of capsaicin rich chilis in your spicy som tam flood in and overload your trigeminal nerve to deliver a Doc Martin kick to the inside of your occiput.
If you believe in physical reality that is. You know the theory of duality, right? Mind/body. Well, let's assume you are not a brain on a box somewhere, and that the world and all its stimuli are predominantly real when you are awake. Places and things surround you.
But are they real? Of course they fucking are. (Or are you only dreaming you are awake, or is this a Man With Two Brains scenario? No! Snap back to reality!)
Your body, the physical YOU and its consciousness, the mental YOU, board a cruise ship, an aeroplane, a train: the coordinates on Google Maps move with both.
Your character, your habits and traits, the moral beliefs that both torment and bring bliss, your education, your memories, they move with you as well. There they are. There you are. YOU. Wherever YOU are, you are the same person in a different location; feeling awe, hunger, satiety, gastronomic discomfort, warmth or cold, moisture, cold, physical pain, maybe, but still come the same patterns of thought, mental and physical reactions, as your body moves here and there. YOU are. You. The YOU you think you know, that your friends and family would recognise in an instant.
All true.
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Until…
You turn from from Soi 4 into Nana Plaza, from Soi 23 or Asoke into Soi Cowboy, through the plush purple curtains on Lockard Rd, or out of the lift straight into the 6th floor bar in Roppongi or Shinjuku…
And YOU are gone. Woosh!
And probably it's a night on the rickety tiles with a YOU that is completely different, and enjoying it immensely with a YOU who once was
E@L
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(Just realised that this is very Clarice Lispector)
D’oh indeed.
E@L’s first work trip was proposed for Monday to Friday next week. The Victorian rep who would be supporting the Sydney apps lady is going to be at a conference in New Zillint.
The work is in Bairnsdale, a 5hr drive away, across Victoria, and a decent hotel needs to be booked. Dr’s had OKed E@L’s travelling that far, so all good. However, until today he had not had confirmation of the demo going ahead… aaaaannnddd… so he presumed it was cancelled or something, so didn’t need to do anything.
On Tuesday this week a letter came from the hospital Outpatients Dept with an appointment scheduled for next Wednesday, when, hmm, he MIGHT be in Bairnsdale! This would be the last Dr’s appointment to follow up on his recent surgery so he really wanted to get it out of the way and move on with life, the universe, everything [the novel?].
And on top of that, the district nurse had made his final appointment with her/them for Thursday!
Um… he again wonders if this trip is going ahead or not? He would might need to change all these appointments and it’s getting close to too late…
It’s Friday now, mid-afternoon. E@L is relaxed [a pint of lager and a burger, $20 special at Carwyn cellars, who could say No?] and reading a book… [Aqua Vita by Clarice Lispector — he’s not sure what is going on, indeed not sure IF anything is going on. She’s writes at a point where the Samuel Beckett of the trilogy and Fernando Pessoa cross paths.]
A phone call: “Are you still OK for next week? Sorry for the last minute call. I’m still heading to NZ, so we will need you. I’ll confirm with the Big Boss!”
“Yep, excellent!” [Some good money coming with his exorbitant rates!]
E@L logs on to Booking-dot-com, tells them Bairnsdale and the dates, and selects some reasonably comfortable mid-range accommodation in this medium sized country town, but waits to press BOOK just in case.
5 mins later an email and Team mtg appointment from the Big Boss: “Demo is Tuesday to Friday next week. Please let’s have a meeting to discuss the demo on Monday.”
Oh shit, the appointments!!
It’s currently Friday afternoon still, but it’s 5 minutes before, if he remembers aright, the Outpatient clinic closes… E@L calls just in time and asks to change the appointment. There is nothing free until the end of the month. OK, whenever is possible, thanks.
E@L hangs up.
E@L’s finger is back to being poised over BOOK for his hotel… aaaaaaaanndd…
E@L’s phone rings: “Hi, mate [not Big Boss obviously], have you booked anything yet, because the demo has been pushed back! Don’t have a date yet…”
E@L sighs. He pulls his finger from his iPad…
It’s now 2 mins after OP has closed….
But E@L calls anyway, thinking for sure it’s too late — Friday, after 4, when he used to work there, phone? Fuggedabartit! — and for 7mins the phone keeps a ringing (not on hold, no robot messages so there is hope eternally and internally springing). Then a welcoming voice answers, springing (Hope fulfilled!) from a live human’s voice-box, yay! Outpatients is not closed after all! and Yes, she is able to change his appointment back to next week as previous.
E@L sighs.
What a run around!
Then a penny drops… If the demo is postponed, that means the local guy whom E@L would have been covering for is back in town and will be available after all.
E@L will not be required.
No big money after all.
Another sigh from
E@L
[I drafted this ages ago, in May, but forgot to post. It’s looks Sam Harris is becoming my NYT as a source for blog post topics!]
Sam Harris, famous as being one the Four Horsemen of Atheistolypse, is sort of almost detested by the right, because he is not right wing, and because he rails against evil fuckwits like Tucker Carlson, Alex Jones, even Trump himself*, and, more recently, he is viewed suspiciously by the left (maybe as he has criticised the NYT and even the New Yorker), at least in America.
At the risk of being cancelled myself, I admit I do subscribe (in order to get the full episodes) and listen to the occasional podcast from Making Sense. In my opinion he usually does exactly that, as he is prepared to listen to intelligent people with whom he might possibly disagree without losing his temper and at least he claims to be prepared to change his mind. Unlike Joe Rogan, he does not suffer fools gladly, and his guests are more than just other podcasters and influencers.
His current interview with Greg Lukianoff, author of “The Cancel[l]ing Of The American Mind” (please buy), Substack writer, no subscription fees required (no-one blogs anymore: not true, he writes for the FIRE blog - see link below) is fascinating, as it covers most aspects and opinions about free speech; historically with the social medium of the time, the printing press under the Tudors, and also McCarthyism; mainly about free speech as a modern concept in general; what’s happening on university campuses now, and, duh, cancel culture, etc etc; predominantly the American experience, but also comparing the laws, and the variability in interpretation between countries in Europe.
Usually I end totally confused about where my opinion should lie after listening to Making Sense, as everyone on his podcasts sounds so reasonable and rational, as does Mr Lukianoff.
Not that I think I disagree with Lukianoff’s definition of Free Speech, which is basically that all opinions have the right to be heard, in order to make it possible to rationally discredit bad shit or support the good stuff with “the truth”. Inciting illegal actions, or even voicing opinions that trigger illegal actions (I think I got that right), should however be restricted. In other words controversial topics should be allowed to be heard otherwise these opinions will go underground and social media will amplify and intensify them. Not that doesn’t happen anyway, as influencers attack on the ideal of truth and trust in authorities/experts.
Here's a hypothetical they come up with. What if Alex Jones, while still saying the Sandyhook tragedy was a lie, DID NOT give out the details - addresses and names, which he did - of the families of some of the victims, would he still be liable for prosecution?
Ferkucked if I know! I would very much hope so though! He certainly should have been kicked of Twitter or Youtube or whatever, from his very first post on the topic.
~~~~~~~~
But I also remain concerned about Australia, which Wants to Dictate What The World Can Read online, and where Lachlan Murdoch** can sue a small Aussie independent online newspaper for offering an opinion in Lachie’s responsibility in the Dominion voter fraud case in the US. He lost, and had to pay legal costs - do I get my contribution refunded? Libel has to cause “substantial harm” in Australia, so I doubt anything much less $785million would trouble NewsCorp.au. (I drafted this a while ago: Crickey settled.)
And as I’ve mentioned on FB before, I spent 16 years of living in Singapore where, as examples, in my first few years there, truckloads of riot police arrested four silent protestors from the Workers Party standing on the footpath with “More Transparency in Government” or WTTE, on their tee-shirts; where a foreign speaker at a public meeting on free speech was not granted permission to speak by MICA aka the Ministry of Truth; where blogger mrbrown lost his stint at a newspaper for a light hearted piece on the cost of living (“If you want to comment on politics, join a political party”, said the MiniTru - and that worked out well for those silent protestors, right?). At another public session on censorship in Singapore, this one at the 2006 (or was it 2007?) Writers Festival, hosted by mrbrown, I ventured to hope to be anonymous and safe from MiniTru as my sometimes contentious blog*** was hosted in San Francisco, but mrbrown was sceptical and said, “Everyone knows who you are Phillip!”
(Everyone knows mrbrown is Lee Kin Mun.)
~~~~~~~~~
Question is: Would people go to substack instead of here and pay to read, or even read for free, the inexpensive speech of
Phillip aka E@L
*I still recall Harris’s brilliant rant against Trump from a few years ago.
*** The historical posts are mostly gone now, cancelled by a software upgrade. The plan is to restore my back-up to a readable format, but the comments are all over the place in the ascii dump of the SQL database. There are about 250,000 words there, so not an insubstantial effort is required.
All too often, when E@L was telling a story to TBITP* about the outrageous things he, um, had heard about on his last trip to Pattaya, Bruce might cut in and say, "All very good and depraved sir, but let me tell you of my even more intriguing episode. I had taken to chatting up this dwarf, when two ladyboys and their baby elephant..."
Etc...
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It's called Onedownmanship(™).
~~~~~~~
Getting used to being not quite the reprobate he thought he was is
E@L
* Forgotten so soon? The Boys In The Pub.
From the Hmm, I Did Not Know That, and The No-one Who Reads My FB Feed Cares So This Goes To The Blog files comes this fascinating connection:
In Series 1 Epsisode 8, "The Missing Piece" of Asimov's Foundation on Apple+, "Brother Day embarks on a journey that no other Cleon has ever attempted." This is a religious ceremony that involves a long arduous walk in the sun without food or water that is deadly for many, called The Great Spiral. Br Day expects to reach a sacred cave, referred to as a womb by a priestess (note the rebirth motif) where salt in the water has some mind-altering property that may grant him a vision of the three goddesses (mother, maiden and ... cleaning lady?) and some enlightening message.
And hopefully some aloe vera for that sunburn.
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References to re-birth from a seed (it obviously began as an an agricultural festival), visions, a revelation of spiritual and mental enlightenment, and eventually, as the mysteries evolved, eternal life and maybe even becoming a god. Magic mushrooms or some other psychedelic may very well have been involved, but we don't know as the rites were (the clue is in the name) a Mystery.
Anyone seen Marcus?
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Anyway, it was an interesting (to E@L) parallel, even though he has probably misread the details in the Wikipedia entry completely as he was drinking a double negronic (negrotonic? Anyway, negroni topped up with tonic) as he drafted this.
~~~~~~~~
No doubt a dunk into reddit or somesuch chat area, even Google, would provide E@L with a wealth of discussion on this obvious, to many, association and several PhD theses have already been submitted on it and Stephen Fry probably explained it on Qi (even though he doesn't do it anymore) or in his latest book, and it is only because E@L lives in isolation from the cultured world (the bars of Bangkok and breweries in Singapore?) that he can claim to claim it as his own discovery.
To be totally honest, the correspondence hit E@L while he was doing his daily constitutional around said culturally isolated home village, sipping his barista-brewed flat white, and listening to a recent Sam Harris podcast on the use of psychedelics in religious ceremonies in the ancient western world, and the blindingly obvious pagan origin of many Christian rituals, natch. The guest describes the Mysteries in as much detail as, even more than, any brain could hold onto, least of all the exploding one of
E@L
This work by Expat@Large is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
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