I never dreamed that the first (and only) occasion (to date) that I would pull an emergency cord would be on the Paris Metro. Nor did I imagine that I would bring the whole underground system to a crashing halt with a security alert that sent half the Paris police force running down into the confines of the Rue du Bac station, guns at the ready.
Why do bad things happen to King Lear? Because he is easily flattered and doesn’t recognise true, honest love and loyalty when he sees it. He descends into madness because of the bad things that subsequently happen to him; and then, because of his madness, he puts into action even worse things that are eventually his downfall.
I am looking after my health, my emotional well-being, and giving my soul some much needed cultural nourishment. And so, today, I give thanks for the strength that is my inheritance; and the strength of a city that, even when it is sleeping, still shines.
Why would I go apple picking? There is a thing called a supermarket, where they wrap fruit in bags for you, thereby allowing you more time to spend at the bar not picking apples. And I hate apples. Well, maybe hate is too strong, but they seem to take a lot of effort: peeling, getting the maggots out, de-coring them. It’s why I never got into drugs.
I have no idea whether throwing yourself to the ground is the best thing to do in these circumstances, but it is what I do. And I suddenly hear myself screaming to everyone else to get down too, and words coming out of my mouth that I think might have been along the lines of: “Stay down, everyone! Give him what he wants!” In a language that may be French. Or Norwegian. Who knows. It is a gurgle of syllables: a sound of trapped terror.
Are there any circumstances in which an engagement ring could be classed as an “essential” service? It’s one of the many things that’s been worrying me during the pandemic lockdown as I plan my marriage to the New York State Governor, Andrew Cuomo. Yes, I know that I am very far down the line in a long queue, but a girl can dream.
The Blob. A horrid orange lump of an alien that comes from outer space to wreak havoc upon the lives of a small rural Pennsylvania town. The 1958 science fiction-horror film (re-made in 1988) was distributed by Paramount Pictures as a double feature with I Married a Monster from Outer Space. Prophecy?
Unless I can see a Marriott by standing on a small box, I have no interest in the prospect of being trapped on a mountainside, away from civilization and having to drink my own urine until the rescue services arrive.
Like all animals, we are survivors; we do what we have to do to ensure the continuation of the species. That will be different for everyone, just as this whole experience is. So, is there anything we can do, collectively, to conquer the fact that, at some level, we are all s**t scared?
“Come to the edge,” he said.
“We can’t, we’re afraid!” they responded.
“Come to the edge,” he said.
“We can’t, We will fall!” they responded.
“Come to the edge,” he said.
And so they came.
And he pushed them.
And they flew.”