Nod Right Off!

I took a break from the computers late in the afternoon, sat down on the sofa with a coffee and the newspaper and promptly fell asleep for two hours. Which was embarrassing.

I could blame it on the continuous early starts for the last two or three weeks, including weekends. But I put it down to the recent bought of DVD authoring.

While that’s Work Buddy’s domain, and I’m happy to let him get on with it, this time the deadline was tight. Amongst the discs “special features” were biographies of the various participants interviewed, that needed to be typed up and input.

If it was the least bit interesting, that wouldn’t have been so bad. But the feature content was a documentary about the 1960s/70s New York music and art scene, with such unbelievable high levels of pretension that it made me want to rip out my eyes and boil my head in rancid mountain goat piss.

Everyone was (supposedly) an inspiration to their generation and ‘critically acclaimed’ and ‘world renowned’. Judging from the footage, they looked like a right bunch of noddies then and were certainly a right bunch of noddies now. Their idea of being radical and innovative seemed to consist of musical instrument abuse and on-stage dickery.

Instead of ‘Musician’ or ‘Artist’ I was sorely tempted to type in ‘Talentless Ass Clown’ when it came to career descriptions.

Amongst the barrel full of pretention, the pièce de résistance had to be the Production Notes. There the documentary producers, so obviously proud of their marvellous achievement, gave themselves two whole pages of self-important biography notes each, while the actual participants got one.

Given the bad filming, bad lighting, bad editing and just general badness of this feeble piece of work, they showed a certain foolish bravery in shouting about themselves. Even if they did it in such a way that made me want to boil them in goat piss.

When I finished typing I was finished.