Infertility/Infidelity: not just similar words
Plainly there is a causal connection between infertility and infidelity. I base this finding on extensive research* conclusively demonstrating that whenever an adulterous woman becomes pregnant, it is very frequently (to a highly statistically significant degree) the case that the husband is then found to be infertile, though obviously the wife did not know this when conducting her affair. I dismiss the possibility that this is a cheap trick of fiction, so there is therefore clearly a cause and effect link.
I am putting a submission together as we speak seeking substantial funding for further research to investigate whether infertile semen is unsatisfying to married women, perhaps due to being inferior in quality or flavour, therefore increasing the likelihood of their having affairs; or whether being cuckolded, even without the husband’s knowledge, increases the incidence of infertility. I anticipate that my research methodology will prove controversial.
*specifically watching lots of soap operas and movies, including The Good Girl just now
“we’re lost and we’ve missed telly!?”
= the forlorn cry (immortalised in family legend) of long-ago small-sinker woe, when a daytrip-by-car went awry…
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here i wz trying to think of something to say abt watching Transformers: BeastWars and Xcalibur back-to-back, and it jumped into my head: yes, *I’m* lost, and yes i’ve clearly missed the telly (possibly decades of it) required to make sense of Five’s current Saturday-morning fare, unfolding as it incomprehensibly does somewhere out between metal hurlant, robotoid computergame grafix (don’t ask ME to say which) and 19th-century post-preRaph kids fairystory illustration:
(that there’s Eleanor Vere Boyle courtesy www.surlalunefairytales.com, and Beauty and the Beast)
Of course I can tell you lots abt the latter - how this strain of art was an open portal straight into the weird-sex underside of the Victorian mind, all tanglewood backdrop, chix in clingy shifts and writhing erectile monsters… but BeastWars and Xcalibur (just for starters) present such an undergrowth of tired kidflick hand-me-down and startling image, confusion, war, sexlessness, senselessness, libido, manufactured archetype, cliche and i don’t know what else that i couldn’t guess where to begin
BRISTOL UPDATE
The fog of depression from earlier has lifted slightly although the muscles in my legs still aren’t working. The small press in the UK is vibrant and alive, with a hundred different kinds of animal battling in friendly competition to bring you the reader the greatest comics achievable by the hand of man. The ‘mainstream’ dealers huddle at the sides like mystery fish, unable to bring in the thrills, while the middle of the floor is reserved for the visionaries. Talks are sent to the Ramada, five minutes walk away, like lepers. SOLAR WIND in particular - ‘Yesterday’s comic today at tomorrow’s prices’ - is a delight to the mind. You can take a look at it here. Also, I suggest you take time to check out Arthur Wyatt’s doings - another small press guru who’s developing a network of all the people who should be in comics but aren’t. Go on! Order your copies!
BRISTOL: DAY ONE
I’m sitting in a Holiday Inn, staring at the screen of this god-damned bastard moneysucking internet VAMPIRE machine sat in the corner of the room trying desperately to remember the events of last night and failing.
I can barely remember who won what at the awards - Dom Reardon got something and THE LOSERS got something else, but I’m damned if I know what. Best Newcomer and Best New Series I think… Does it even matter? More kudos to them as they are Freaky Trigger massive whether they know it or not. The thing to watch at the moment is Dave Gibbons’ new hardback - (why these hardbacks? Who has the money for hardbacks? Is the average comic fan now a two-up-two-down-owning systems analyst from Surbiton with a Subaru who can afford such madness? Who are they aiming at?) - called THE ORIGINALS, a beautiful sci-fi take on Mod and all it meant. You heard it here last.
The other thing to watch is the death of the UK Comics Industry. Is this the hangover talking or was there a palpable sense of doom hanging like a terrifying pall over the whole thing last night? The creators and would-be creators seemingly outnumber the fans at the moment, and the general impression was some kind of boiling, bubbling cannibalistic soup, hundreds of beasts and creatures eating each other and themselves, not in some blood-stained nightmare of jealousy but in a bizarre love ritual from the depths of Coleridge’s worst imagining. It’s a truly beautiful thing but how long can we maintain?
And what mad superbeasts will be born - like the nine-headed creature of Revelation THE BEAST 666 - from the wreckage and mass of limbs? I’m about to find out. Here I go to tyhe main hall to find sweet goth girls, delicious bacon and the fruits of the New Uk Scene… the smell of xeroxed paper and mystery…
More later.
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