My Experience Of MCM Comic Con London 2013 - Saturday

Of the two festivals I had lined up for this weekend, Mind Body and Spirit festival on Friday and MCM Comic Con expo on Saturday and (possibly) Sunday, I fully expected to be blown away by the latter. I WAS NOT prepared to come home disappointed from MCM and wishing that I'd gone to the MBS festival twice!

MBS festival was AMAZING. MCM was, at best, 'Meh'.

Okay no, it had some pretty sick moments in there. But let me start from the top.

Marlise Karlin workshop at Mind Body Spirit Festival 2013 =]

Today, I had a numbing, awesome and frightening experience that I need to get down to remind myself that it was real tomorrow, hence my typing this at half past midnight. In light of how I feel right now, it's tempting to go back and delete every pessimistic blog post I ever wrote, but I need them to check my progress.

I am writing this primarily for me, this blog being the only virtual diary I've got.

Marlise Karlin, when responding to a question on what the Simplicity Of Stillness actually was, defined it as trying to 'label' and 'A-B-C' things that cannot be labelled, the intangible, trying to give a form to the formless. In truth, that is what I am trying to do in this blog post. In that sense, it seems not purposeful and futile, but I am doing it anyway.

(I love this picture. So intense, I feel like she is looking into my soul)

-

Mindf***

I'm still not ready to talk about The Terrible Horror, The Horrible Terror, whichever. Not ready. Maybe if I put it off long enough, I'll forget it. Anyway. Here's another filler post.

I'm currently writing my uni essay, it's on Postmodernism. I just began reading sociologist Jean Baudrillard's postmodernist essay, and here is the opening quote:

'The simulacrum is never that which conceals the truth - it is the
truth which conceals that there is none.
The simulacrum is true.
                                                - Ecclesiates.'

Jean Baudrillard, 'The Precession of Simulacra' in The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism, ed. Vincent B. Leitch et al., (New York: W.W.Norton & Company, 2010)

I may as well just give up now.


Star.
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Whispers Underground - Ben Aaranovitch

I'm not yet ready to talk about my sudden severe depression that came and subsided last week, so here's another filler blog post.

There's nothing like the Peter Grant series that cheers me up. It's soo, so funny, especially if you have a sense of humour, and especially if you're a Londoner (you'll miss a half of the jokes if you're not). Zach has officially replaced Molly as my favourite character, although she's not too far behind. Silent and glaring, but she's there.

There were quite a lot of great bits in Whispers Underground, but this was the bit that had me stifling my laughter as I sat on the bus to Uni, page 135:

"There were incidents while he was at college," she said.
   "What kind of incidents? asked Zach before I could.
   I sighed and pointed at a table at the other end of the room. "Go and sit over there," I said.
   "Do I have to?" he asked.
   "This is grown-up stuff," I said.
   "Don't patronise me."
   "I'll buy you a cake," I said.
   He sat up like a small dog. "Really?"
   "If you go and sit over there," I said, and he did.
Whispers Underground, Ben Aaranovitch, Gollancz, 2012.

 
Classic.

Star.
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I Wrote This Poem,

and I don't think I'm very good at this, but I didn't know what else to do to about the whole committing suicide thing so here goes.

Dots
(S.K. 4/5/13)

Little errors,
A sheet full of them
A littered conversation
And my imperfect body. 

Happiest when
A dark thing remains distant
A polluted mind fragments
And my senses slumber. 

Crying out
A four-walled room swallows tears
A pillow and a duvet cuddle me
And I smother a thought-bubble.

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