Monday, November 20, 2006

A dream of ..

Some people lead charmed lives. Their dreams are sufficiently complex to constitute the plot of a novel – and no, by dreams I mean not thoughts, ideas, and so on, but the expressions of hopes and fears in our sleep. Speaking of hopes and fears, is it just me or is the new British band, The muse ripping off Keane’s sound, it’s lyrics even. When humming The Muse’s “Starlight”, I inadvertently switch to Keane’s Crystal ball. So similar are the songs that it’s easy to drift between them. The muse has mastered everything from Keane’s plaintive “love come save me” tone to the prominent piano. They even use the title of Keane’s first album in Starlight, but use “expectations” in place of “fears”. So complete is the Muse’s imitation that the band would win a place in the Guiness book of 2006 for impersonation act of the year. As exhibit A I have only the song Starlight. But, heck, if people can send other’s children to fight and die in a baseless war, I think 1 piece of evidence is plenty. Incidentally I like the song Starlight quite a bit. I’m only a bit ticked off that Keane lost the EMA best band award to – must I say it. A travesty if ever there was one. Next Oasis will lose to the Killers! What has the world come to!

But I digress, considerably! Which I suppose is to be expected when one’s procrastinated blogging as long as I have. I my defence, I’ve been busy. I never thought I’d ever say that but that’s life as guess. Strangest of all is the fact that I quit my job. A move that was designed to allow me to gain more control over my life, but which has failed because servitude has now been replaced by the acceptable indolence that is … - hell I can’t explain it in a few lines so it’ll have to wait, I really am trying not to digress.
Back to the dreams issue. Somebody wrote an entire novel based on her dream of Africa – a very long dream it must have been. Another wrote a play about a dream in the mid summer. Those are two instances just off the top of my head, so I really could keep going.
I’m not one of those fortunate people. My dreams are pretty episodic, and I’m lucky to recall one let alone piece together a story. I’ve been lucky today. I dreamed, last night, of Michael Essien – midfielder extraordinaire, Chelsea Player, and Ghanaian International. That in itself not strange at all. What was extraordinary is the non amorous nature of the encounter. There was no moonlit walk in givangi gardens, no roll in the hay, nothing! A crazy bitch has taken over my subconscious mind. I know this because on meeting Essien all I talked about was how well he’s playing for Chelski. So extraordinary was the dream that it has inspired my first posting in weeks. I therefore figured that maybe I could post a story inspired by my dream. But I don’t suppose that I’m very creative because I should have come up with something by now but here I am. So I figure I should consult Senor Materazzi who is to pen a book, inspired by the infamous head butt in the world cup final, to be simply title “What I really said to Zidane.” I stand to learn much from a man who can pen an entire book, not a novel but a book, about a 3 minute incident.
Now I must go, but before I do, I must thank Oscar and Eric for making me very happy. Thanx guys. I’ll now sign off, I’m awaiting an important call - Biting my nails and looking plaintively and angrily – by turns - at my phone, every two minutes is a big part of that. But before I do, I recommend that y’all go and get yourselves a copy of the album by Freshly ground, the south African band that, along with Colleen Bailey Ray (try and say that really fast), counts as the best new act of the year.


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