The emptiness of revision.

It is not working.
I have tried, I have failed, and now my head is little more than a sieve with holes just big enough for anything useful to slip through into the land of the infuriatingly forgotten.
Philosophy and Ethics is impossible. There are too many names. There are too many topics. There is too little clarity and distinction between them.

I have tried explaining aloud, reading, making charts, making posters, typing things up, typing things at Alison in MSN, but none of it is going through.

Anyone have any ideas how to make names and ideas stick coherently, or do I need to get down to B&Q for some superglue?

Bottles and bottles of arachnids...

It's meant to be the tertiary text, but I have just read about twelve reviews of the Propeller Richard III I saw back in November and my eyes are beginning to go fuzzy. I'm trying to work out - because my memory has betrayed me - whose finger he bit off after killing them. It could be a couple of people (Anne? Edward?) and for each of them it would have a very different significance - and connection with The Changeling (where Deflores cuts of Piraquo's finger after killing him).

None of the reviews mention it - not even the lovely thorough ones. Some of them mention 'finger biting' but remain bloody ambiguous like an uncertain and vague bitch of research hell. Er- but yes, this Richard III business is becoming a bit of an obsession.

Also, had a moment of AHA! while reading a review on a blog. The Blog's subtitle was "The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there." and I had a nice little 'oh-ho, I know where you're coming from there, old laddy, old boy!" That quote's from The Go-Between by L.P. Hartley - actually, it's the first sentence, and all - and that gives me a sad sort of joy to have floating around in my head...

More cheerful having done excesses of research and also installing my SHINY new HiFi system, which is beautiful, and which involved me basically reorganising my room and shelving again... everything's always better when it's a bit fresher, I think. Have also moved the MASS of tickets and posters and notes and whatnot from my pinboard (it was becoming painfully close to collapsing everywhere) and made it all into a montage on my wall.

That's all for now - I love that I have five or so more solid days to dilly-dally and over-complicate this essay. Hurrah!

Oooh, bonus anecdote! I was faffing about in the bathroom looking for something in the cupboards and found that my uncle had left us a gift in one of them. Delightful! I hear you cry - What a nice man to do such a thing. Yes, yes, if it had been a bath bomb, or a necklace or something other than a dead, moldy mouse and its brother's skull I would have been overjoyed. Unfortunately not. You may be surprised to hear that I was not surprised by this and simply held my breath and went to inform the parentfolk. I blame tradition - a rather longstanding one which I may properly explain in another blog, at another time, when my eyes aren't eroded by Dicky 3 reviews.

Nanight, lovelies xx

Meh, life.

Christmas was alright if you exclude most of the company, and include the rather high alcohol intake. I am slowly becoming a royal alcoholic at such occasions, not sure whether to be worried or not. Have also caught some dodgy bugs from the masses of small children that were there - coughing and sniffling and feeling rather nauseas the past day or two.

After a let-down of a venison pie at Christmas Mark II yesterday, got some good books - including Year of The King by Antony Sher which I'm already about half way through, and will probably discuss in another blog some time.

Quiet morning this morning, both parents out and aforementioned Sher book in lap. Just building up a desire to write something (I really, really do need SOME productivity...) when Madre comes in and asks me to go to Tesco with her. As Padre asked me too, earlier, had to go.

It has come to the point, I think, where just seeing her face makes me instantly depressed. I find myself not bothering any more than absolutely necessary to talk to her, because it makes me want to headbutt a wall.

Results of trip to Tesco - no real desire to do either portfolio OR coursework, but there's only 6 days of holiday left, and I can't go back having done fuck all.

To curl up in bed and die, or to not curl up in bed and die, that is the question.

Probably going to give over rest of day to moping and reading the rest of YotK.

If you look at people's faces long enough, they start to look very strange. A bit like saying the same word over and over again, it eventually becomes a meaningless alienoid sound.

Top notch procrastination going on here. Absolutely top.

I am currently waiting for my provisional driving license to arrive and free me from the final shackles of childhood. I am like a tame dog whose cage someone has forgotten to open, only a little bit more inclined to run around barking loudly if I am let out.

Right... Ethics... Hmm...