Dave: A Prayer. Or, The Tragedy Of (Steven) King Fear.

  This post is about the best friend I ever had.  That and fear.  We’re not mates anymore because he doesn’t want to know and I don’t really blame him.  It’s also about the usual sorts of things I write about: being confused; being stupid; not knowing how to put things right; not knowing how…

Goethe Hell! Or, If You Don’t Know Ennui By Now.

“Know thyself? If I knew myself I would run away.” Goethe. I love Goethe because it’s The Sorrows of Young Werther that I turned to whenever I was returned to Dumpsville: population Middlerabbit.  There’s nothing like a bit of self-pity and moping, is there?  Not that this is about being dumped again because it’s not….

Not The World’s Strongest Man

 I grew up in the 1980s: in the midst of the New Romantic era in a household in which the closest thing I had to music on a daily basis was the sound of my old man singing ‘Morning Has Broken’ as he repaired the holes in the wall that my mother had made, throwing…