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johnny9fingersSo during the lockdown I've been trying to deal with the fact that the skin on my hands delaminated after an allergic reaction and I have lost four decades of guitarist's callouses on my fingertips. The ends of my fingers are now as pink and painful as those of an infant who has never used their hands. I started practicing again only yesterday after a fortnight of truly disgusting shedding. I reckon it will take a few months to build up callouses again. In the meantime playing is a set of ouch moments. I am reminded of the Hans Christian Anderson's Little Mermaid's feet; every step is like walking on hot knives - for me, right now, every fret feels the same. Time will improve this.
Been watching telly a bit. Caught Powell and Pressburger's "The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp" on BBC2. I found it retains a mesmerising quality; but I couldn't look at Clive Wynne-Candy's hunting trophies excepting in horror. I hadn't previously noted Deborah Kerr as the eternal woman figure so beloved by mainly homosexual English public school types (of which I'm one); but she certainly was meant to convey something similar. Still, the film moved me to tears on two occasions.
Also been watching Devs, which irritates me a little. I keep saying under my breath; Hilbert's Grand Hotel Paradox would enable you to grok this better and maybe Georg Cantor's Arithmetic of Infinity would give you some different structure within which to look at your idea. But I'm only up to episode four. The ambiguous depiction of folk who murder to solve problems, however, I find troubling; even if it reflects a truth. Despite the beauty of the cinematography and sets I may not stay the course. I think I prefer narratives with less violence. GoT may have been the last ultra-violent thing I watched, but it tended to telegraph the gory bits so you could look away. I'm too old for violence. I'm almost too old for sex. Maybe Monica Bellucci might tempt me beyond my competence, nevertheless...
But I'm still good to shout and rail at the bastards who would screw us over.
Been watching telly a bit. Caught Powell and Pressburger's "The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp" on BBC2. I found it retains a mesmerising quality; but I couldn't look at Clive Wynne-Candy's hunting trophies excepting in horror. I hadn't previously noted Deborah Kerr as the eternal woman figure so beloved by mainly homosexual English public school types (of which I'm one); but she certainly was meant to convey something similar. Still, the film moved me to tears on two occasions.
Also been watching Devs, which irritates me a little. I keep saying under my breath; Hilbert's Grand Hotel Paradox would enable you to grok this better and maybe Georg Cantor's Arithmetic of Infinity would give you some different structure within which to look at your idea. But I'm only up to episode four. The ambiguous depiction of folk who murder to solve problems, however, I find troubling; even if it reflects a truth. Despite the beauty of the cinematography and sets I may not stay the course. I think I prefer narratives with less violence. GoT may have been the last ultra-violent thing I watched, but it tended to telegraph the gory bits so you could look away. I'm too old for violence. I'm almost too old for sex. Maybe Monica Bellucci might tempt me beyond my competence, nevertheless...
But I'm still good to shout and rail at the bastards who would screw us over.
