Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Stillborn love, passionate dreams, pitiful greed

Sometimes you need something to take you away from your air conditioned view of the Oxford ring road, before you throw yourself at the reinforced glass hoping for something dramatic and blood-drenched but getting only a large bruise on the head and some more feedback on your problem with authority.

When such occasions arise, reach for your headphones and your latest eBay bargain, close your email, close your eyes and sing yourself lots more gypsy love songs. He might have a rep (not entirely undeserved, from what I read) as a grumpy old Sufist misogynist bastard, but there's no one to touch him for passion and venom and not a word wasted.




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