Jeremiah's Strange Times

So. Sitting here after been sent home after a mild concussion gets me thinking. Actually, everything sets me thinking.. but this time.. I'm thinking slower.. I'm very aware I'm thinking slower. Like a variety of cabbage. Which is ironic in itself as a brain can look a little like a variety of cabbage. There I am. Cabbage. So as this cabbage sat in A&E for 3 and a half hours (Take a moment to imagine him sitting there. Remember, the walls have no windows) with the ability to read seemingly stripped from him like the ability to wield more then one weapon is continually stripped from Link at the beginning of every single Zelda game,  I thought: Superstition. Superstition.  (I thought other things as well of course, it was a long wait) How superstitious am I? Quite I think. Though I don't like it.  I put too much faith in psychics.  Though I don't. I read horoscopes a little too eagerly, though I know to my scientific logical core that its bumkum. Yet. Sup...

I finished the last post with a promise to look into the past. So thats what I'm going to do. However that wish has cast me out an airlock, drifting through the space between actual points. Hmmm, simile possibly inspired by the fact that Star Trek (2009) is on in the background.  I spend alot of time standing in front of my rather copious DVD collection, determining which DVD is best to put on as 'background noise' one that makes me feel a little better through osmosis, but not necessarily anything I want to actually focus on. Take stock of. So, yeah, historical perspective. When its looked at from a great distance, my emigration to London may seem caught up in the financial crisis that followed it.  It of course wasn't.  When I left Ireland I left behind a viable career, friends, a 'life' basically.  For the unknown.  The rather fretful, stressful, exciting unknown.  If I'd stayed in the job I had been in, well, its viability as a way of life would h...

As the title proclaims, I'm back in the capital of the UK. Two round syllables. Summer has suddenly hove into view, and it is a sudden and strangely fantastic thing to have ones clothes too much to take. This particular visit to Cork has been an odd one. For the first time I didn't feel like I belonged... Not at home mind, home is always the same, the pets may get older, there may be a gradual narrative change to the place, but its always the same.  My rooms the same.  The house feels the same. Moms the same. But the city, by god, the city, half shut, yet as airy as ever, but nobody was familiar, nobody was anything to me and I was nothing to them.  Usually when I return home random encounters take the edge off all that, but this time, though I trusted to my usual facility for bumping into people, my trust was misplaced.  In Cork anyway it seems. It was Paddy's day while I was there. And there I was, in a little pub, drinking Guinness alone.  Wandering ou...

Right then, Blogging I was up at UCC today (University College Cork), where I studied Archaeology and History something like 5 years ago, and my brain was busy working on trying to make me feel sad/nostalgic through various vague recollections of  my understanding of Jung archetypes.  That is, as I was back in a place where I had spent quite a few happy years, Jeremiah should, by all rights, be sinking into some sort of brownish gray morass of memory. But Jeremiah wasn't.  Instead I was feeling vaguely superior. Vaguely old. And vaguely astonished I had spent so many of my days lurking about the glass confines of the student centre in which I was now sitting sipping the best coffee from a machine I had had in ages. Outside, students wandered from lectures, stopped to rest on the piers of marble that ran parallel to the windows, chatting instead of going anywhere.  The sun flared over the shoulder of the friend sitting across from me, easily evading the cupped h...