As work on various projects continues, the dread Soccer World Cup approaches.
I’ve nothing against the sport itself – despite the fact that’s polarizing too much attention in my opinion – but not having an interest in it, I’m facing a long stretch of intellectual desert: nothing on the telly, cinemas closed when the Italian team is playing, 90% of the news focused on who’s winning, who’s losing.
The pleasures of the desert – no people around, silence (punctuated, admittedly, by demented screams).
So I’m assembling a small survival kit.
Large quantities of ice cream.
A stack of CDs for a soundtrack.
DVDs to pass the dreary hours in in which the TV programs simply cease to exist.
A good selection of books.
A large electric fan.
Among the things on my plate for the crossing of the media desert, classic Fleetwood Mac music, Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes, the Arabian Nights and the intriguing Travels in Northern Mongolia on my Kindle.
And I’ll write: I’ve got a full plate, when it comes to stories I have to get on (digital) paper.
And I might blog more frequently – Dispatches from the Media Desert… sounds fun.