My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, "A Few Figs from Thistles", US poet (1892 - 1950)

Saturday, 26 May 2007

Adrenaline II

Today Josephine got up, as her father would say, first thing of an afternoon and opened the curtains at 4pm to the End of The World: apocalyptic gloom and vile squally-grey rain. The only other option being land law revision, Josephine returned to bed to catch up on the remaining hours of sleep accumulatively lost over recent weeks and to generally chill out. The energy supply, it seems, was not unlimited.

Josephine has no doubt that she was herself pretty annoying gabbling away through case law on Occupiers' Liability yesterday morning on the bus into Islington. She apologised profusely to the lady commanding the seat-and-half-of-her-own next to her, before muttering quietly at some speed under her breath. But more irritating than "Coleman Bros...lion!...The Calgarth...slide down your banisters!...Laverton kebab!" was undoubtedly the portly, suited gentleman who proceeded to make unrelenting business calls on his mobile for the duration of the route to the tube, at a volume just a little too loud to be natural.

"Charles! Is now a good time to talk? Well I won't keep you long... [so obviously not, then, but I'll talk at you anyway] I've been thinking about carbon offsetting..."

He evidently thought himself to be exceedingly witty, repeating all of his jokes at least twice for the benefit of those at the back of the bus who perhaps didn't catch them on first utterance or, as Josephine suspects, because the poor sod at the other end of the phone had missed his cue to laugh the first time. What on earth did these people do before the invention of the mobile? Couldn't he have waited until he got to the office? And what exactly made him think we were remotely interested or impressed?

Of course, we were and after the fourth phonecall in fifteen minutes everyone was in complete awe: we all thought he must be very clever and popular and important and busy indeed. What a pity Josephine had an exam to get to and alighted at Angel otherwise she might have been tempted to stand next to him and make a couple of imaginative calls of her own...

"Algernon! Hallo old chap, how are you? No, no, that's quite all right, I won't interrupt your kippers. I was just giving you a tinkle to discuss the coy carp in the moat..."

So. Almost halfway through the War on Law and a brief revision interlude before the battle recommences a week on Monday. Josephine will resume her post at the revision parapet tomorrow for more fun and frolics from within the trenches of law-books, notes and folders gathering in her room.

Dulce et decorum est pro lege mori.

But for now, amused by the crying orgasmic girls mouthing his name in the audience, Josephine is going to return her attention to Pennebaker's film of Bowie's last performance as Ziggy Stardust at Hammersmith Odeon in 1973 on BBC Four. Sublimely unusual voice but by god, David, that's quite some swimsuit you're wearing...

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