Annals of the Eerie Pt.3

"This odd new idea that all ideas, no matter how insane, merit equal consideration and that objective fact has ceased to exist."

Irrationality, eh? Surely we shouldn’t give it house room at all. However, I have noticed a strange relationship developing with my alarm clock. I suspect that, although it is an inanimate object, it has telepathic properties. Let me explain.

How often do I awake at night? I turn to the clock, which has an illuminated display which is activated by pressing the button on it’s top. I sometimes guess the time, and when I check more often than not it is within a minute or two of the display, quite frequently dead on. 2.22 is not likely to erupt into reality unless some rather odd mechanisms are at work.

Sometimes, the clock goes further, as if to show off it’s weirder abilities. Last night I had the pleasure of attending a Billy Whizz gig at the Retreat. They were on fine form as usual, as were the Film Extras before them. I saw a number of faces, chatted and smiled and nodded at words I could not hear. Then Billy Whizz re-appeared in my dreams. I call that overstepping the mark actually, but I can find it within myself to forgive. They were playing a magnificent song towards the end of their set which involved repeated chants of ‘Aubergine!’ ‘Aubergine!’ ‘Aubergine!’ ‘Aubergine!’ with a furious riff thundering away behind it. Suddenly, the power went and the song was left in mid air as it became clear that the police had pulled the plug. The band shrugged and started packing up.

Then, and this is the quirk that struck me, without missing a beat my alarm went off. The morning had arrived in a demonstration of alarm clock omnipotence, one that I shall not lightly forget. I was left to writhe in a confusing tangle of “wha happened?” and throbbing aubergine. The dream and the clock were obviously interwoven in some ninth-dimensional matrix somewhere beyond perception.

Is it really inanimate? It IS without the battery – let’s hope it’s sentient enough to remember that!

And, while we’re on the subject, I thought I might invite Rob Clark to guest edit an entry for the blog sometime to provide tips for the dashing man on techniques for ironing shirts. Anyone with half an ounce of fashion élan will be anxious to reproduce the even-ness of his crumple.