Directory of Lost Causes (By Quentin S. Crisp)

Annette Funicello's Hair

Have I mentioned that I hate my blog?

I did start writing my Address to the Nation, but it's currently in suspended animation (hey, that could be the opening couplet of a song). I think one of my main problems with it is that I have so far - and I don't how I even got onto the subject - called Damien Hirst a cunt in it about three times, and I'm not sure that's really called for. Hmmm. Then again, I'm tired of being nice. Not that I ever have been.

It's much easier to express my current feelings about life the universe and everything exclusively through YouTube clips. For instance, this:



I've noticed recently that, at least if one goes by the images that are left to us, the female half of the human species reached the zenith of beauty in the era of silent films. Witness:



Everything has come downhill since then. But even going back as far as the sixties, you can measure the difference in general classiness.

But, apart from blurting out things that you regret ever saying, another disadvantage of blogs is that it leaves you with less to share in private with the one or two people you actually manage to keep in touch with consistently. No one can say, "Hey, I didn't know you were an admirer of Annette Funicello's hair!" You broach the subject, and they say, "Yeah, I read it on your blog."

And this is exactly what my current life in Wales is like:





Well, when I say exactly like that, what I mean, I suppose, is more like a cross between that and this.

Finally (perhaps really finally), I'm all for having a laugh, but I have come to learn the meaning of a phrase that a friend of mine used in conversation many years back, when he referred to someone as being, "pathologically incapable of taking anything seriously". I saw a headline about the endangerment of Penguins recently that read something like, "Penguins in p-p-p-p-peril."

Is it obligatory to have some naff joke in every single headline ever written?

Labels: annette funicellos