I was reading something yesterday, which, for a moment just now, I couldn't recall. Instantly, I thought of Jerry's Brain, and something like "This would never happen if I had Jerry's Brain." And now I'm irritated that I even know about Jerry's Brain, because I don't want my experience of my memory and its fallibilities to be forever associated with someone's digital scrapbook. Ugh.
But, happily, I did recall what I was doing, after I had that jarring little interruption. I was reading about Ridley Scott making a Gladiator sequel. It had been in the news recently due to an accident on set during a stunt scene, and I was surprised to learn there even was a planned sequel. Plus, right around the time I was feeling irritated, I realized I could check my browser history and figure it out.
One of the pieces on the sequel mentioned that Nick Cave had written an early treatment that kind of intrigued Scott, but got squashed when Russel Crowe said, "Don't like it, mate."
But that led to reading more linked things about Cave, which led to me buying two documentary films, One More Time, With Feeling and This Much I Know To Be True. I was watching the first, but still unaware of the circumstances of his son's death, so I made the mistake of checking Wikipedia.
I learned what I wanted to learn, but read some other extraneous crap that the folks who do that sort of thing thought was important to mention, got pissed off and stopped the film and turned on the news.
Well, the good thing about feelings, which is one of the points on the map I'm wrestling with, is they pass.
Knowing that some of the sort of people who edit Wikipedia have agendas and cherry-pick, I decided I wanted to know more about what Nick Cave thought, so I visited his blog. The first entry I clicked was answering a question about why he was performing at the coronation. I liked (feelings, they're everywhere) his answer, even though I kind of liked the question!
So I was relieved that it wasn't instantly apparent I'd made a mistake.
I should back up and also mention that a book, Faith, Hope and Carnage, is being promoted on the home page of his web site, and I ended up buying that. So I was probably primed to like what I read, but even so, I still think it was a good answer.
The second thing I clicked on is the basis for this post. I'll let you read it, but here's the quote that got me:
"It reminded me that none of us are ever really in control of our lives and that all we have is each other. I extend my love with the simple wish that I could do more. My thoughts and prayers are with you."
Another point on my struggling map is, "All we ever really have are moments to live, and each other." The idea is that anything we think we have can be taken away from us at any time. And any moment could be our last. Eventually, one will.
And so that statement, unsurprisingly perhaps, resonated deeply.
At first I was going to just post it on Mastodon, but then I figured it was too much for that kind of post. It belonged in the marmot.
I've been a lightweight Nick Cave fan since about 2007-ish. I may become a bigger fan after getting to explore some of his other work. But I like much of what I've seen and heard so far, Wikipedia notwithstanding.
Originally posted at Nice Marmot 06:23 Thursday, 15 June 2023