It's the middle of the week, and i feel way too distant from the joys of the weekend; i.e. the excuse to drink liberally. As much as i don't want to openly acknowledge some kind of mid-twenties crisis, i've reached the stage were i feel slightly uncomfortable if i haven't got at least a taste of whisky on my lips at some point during the day. If nothing else it's an expensive habit to possess. Otherwise things are going OK with the revision etc, there's not alot i can do now about the various things i don't know, and i'm confident in my ability to spin a story that makes me look like i do know what i'm talking about with the barest amount of information possible. I've come to the conclusion that i really need some things to focus on outside of academia (not that i ever focus very much on that), that's part of the reason i started blogging. I've also very tentatively begun writing, a short story is the aim, and I think the premise if nothing else is fairly strong, but whether or not i've actually got the ability to write it is an open question.
I completed watching No Direction Home last night, i spread it over two nights due to it's considerable length and a wholly inadequate buffer speed. I won't go into detail, you should probably watch it if you want to know what it's about. But i was mesmerised by it throughout, I know it's predictable to idolise an enigmatic musician, but i think with Dylan it's reasonably acceptable. Not to mention the fact that my cynicism (and probably narcissism) rarely allows me to be fully complementary about anybody. And i think his character could be described as cantankerous, fickle or petulant but hardly enigmatic.
Back to what it's all about, the music. It's a mighty difficult taks picking out one Bob Dylan song, there being many. Do i go electric or acoustic? So many controversies (although i assume nobody actually cares about that anymore). Well if anybody does this is going to sting - Highway 61
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