Monday 15 December 2008

Must control murderous urges

My friends Ben and Dan are twitchers - birdwatchers. I like birds, and generally admire whatever they've spotted when we're out walking as the Map Twats. Yet I had a most satisfying dream the other night. Every time they pointed out something rare, I produced a gun and blasted it out of the sky, each time gaining an enormous sense of well-being. I don't hunt, or even like hunting (though I can see the justification for shooting your dinner), so why was it so enjoyable? Perhaps it's the transgression. I'm a quiet and well-behaved cove most of the time, and rarely do anything outrageous, so mayhap the old subconscious is hinting that there's a pressure-cooker of rage that needs release before I go on some sort of festive killing spree.

Still, seeing Tindersticks tomorrow so that should help.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

First up. Dan and I are most certainly not twitchers. That would be like calling you a book collector as opposed to a book reader.
Secondly. Shooting rare birds seems a little excessive for what were merely words about Belle and Sebastian.

Enjoy Tindersticks you avian death stalker