Sunday, 5 October 2008
Sunday Night is...Er, Phhwt, Tsk, Aaargh, Plp...
A between-the-lines edit of Howard Hawks's Cary Grant / Rosalind Russell film His Girl Friday (1940). You get it all in a little over eight minutes. It is a little like one of Queneau's Exercices de Style...roll on Oulipo.
I have just noticed that I turn up, quoted, in Matt Harvey's piece on poetry in yesterday's Guardian Work supplement.
I rarely look at the Work supplement. Spend enough time doing it, let alone reading about it. But there I am, as you see, pointing things out, expostulating*. Working.
Mind you I have always seen myself as more of a Vogon than Matt H. Relatively speaking that is. Vogons get a bad press, Vogons do proper work. Now God stand up for Vogons!
*Expostulation is bad for you. I vaguely remember a sentence in Spike Milligan, possibly in The Essential Milligan that goes, "..the driver leapt out and gesticulated in a corner".
Don't do it. Or if you must, do it an a corner.