Raymond Chandler Evening/I was a pink-headed bug

[hirez]

(I hesitate even to think the term 'mashup' these days. Partly because of the aggressively clueless Nathanry that surrounds it, burt mostly because I am instantly haunted by the image of Men from the Bank clutching their trousers in a non-ironic sense.)

In my day, trouser-clutching was the international sign of a gentleman's appliance gone horribly wrong or a live-action freestyle Goons/Milligan impersonation. One of which generally tending to imply the other.

Which is why the word 'mashup' does not appear in the title of this post, even though it should.

So.

I've been reading Chandler's splendid 'Farewell my lovely' over the last couple of days. I shall probably have to beetle off up to Waterstone's this very lunchtime in order to bag 'The high window' because I finished the one on the train in this AM.

You may or may not care to imagine the surprise and delight of a cheerful old post-punk Peelite on discovering that the entirety of the lyrics to 'I was a pink-headed bug', which was a very early single from that splendid lurching drunken socialist drum-machine beat combo The Three Johns, was cribbed wholesale from chapter thirty-nine.

Everything is strangely connected and there really are only a few hundred people.

Comments

[moral-vacuum.livejournal.com]

I always think of that book as "Farewell, my Chocolate Lovely", in reference to the late, lamented frozen dessert.

[eljaydaly.livejournal.com]

I read Farewell, My Lovely a few months back. It was all sorts of interesting.