clinomania

I am charmed to be reminded that 15th March is the anniversary of the death of H P Lovecraft. Posting a link about hairy Yeti crabs seems curiously, if unconsciously, appropriate. The anniversary also clearly requires mention of one of my favourite short SF stories, a charming little effusion called "Ralph Wollstonecraft Hedge: A Memoir", by one Ron Goulart, which is a withering and hysterical satire on the life of Lovecraft, with a nice line in parody of the weird recluse. Selected highlights follow:

... He apparently was found on a doorstep in his twenty-fifth year, with no recollection of his past. The doorstep itself was found in a forest in Bristol, Rhode Island, where the Druids from the neighbourhood held occasional outings up until the McKinley era. These early associations seemed to have little effect on Hedge, although in the autumn he would turn a russet gold colour and exhibit a tendency to drift gently to the ground.

... Hedge was violently afraid of squirrels. It is therefore somewhat ironic that during the Depression a great many squirrels took to hiding nuts all about the ground floor of Hedge's home. I have taken more than one nasty spill as a result of unexpectedly stepping on a cashew.

... Hedge spent a good deal of time behind things and so most of his tales were dictated... To the best of my knowledge, most of his best stories were hallucinations. Many is the morning I would be sitting in the music room swatting squirrels only to have Hedge interrupt me by running in whooping... It is in this way that his renowned The Thing in the Dumbwaiter and The Shuffler Beyond the Transom were composed.

... In late 1939, RWH was, as he had always feared would happen, carried off by the squirrels...

The manifold demands of teaching, book updating and encyclopedia entry writing mean that I badly need new distractions; having finished the latest batch of borrowed books (fluffy) and rejected the latest batch of book club books (demanding), I was forced to fall back on DVD-watching. This week I have finished Season 5 of Buffy, re-watched half of the first season of Doctor Who, and immersed myself thoroughly in both the X-Men movies, plus all DVD extras. I am pleased to report woe, apocalypse, self-sacrificing death, weird aliens, time travel, and a heavy crush on Wolverine. Why the hell this last should happen I have no idea, he left me utterly unmoved the first few times I saw the movies. I think my life must currently be very, very dull.

On the upside, Worthless Words are having a spate of relevance. Clinomania: the overwhelming desire to stay in bed. Oh, yeah. And theiform: having the form of tea. Like me after several days lounging around the house watching DVDs and swilling Earl Grey.