I’ve recently been through somewhat of a malaise. Perhaps from my own doing, perhaps from circumstances, certainly from a combination of the two. My usual routine came unbinded and I’ve been slightly at odds with myself and what I do minute -to-minute. Which is quite an uncomfortable experience. Some of this has been brought on by the fact that I’m possibly not achieving as I like, or that I may not achieve what I would like to. Some of it comes from the fact that I’m in the type of position where it is easy to stop achieving as you would like to – easy to switch off. This combination has pestered me for a couple of months, I’ve felt uncomfortable and uninspired. Initially I blamed it on an injury which has hampered my exercise, something which keeps me regular in all senses. Then I blamed it on my job – unrewarding at best and overly demanding of my time and energy, and ultimately useless. Then I blamed it on myself, I’ve had a tendency to procrastinate more lately which saying as I hadn’t been exercising and had spent long hours behind a banal glowing screen is barely possible. This stumbling blame left me unmotivated, low and still no further forward. My last port of call for my blame and lack of self-worth was me. Perhaps I was the root and cause of all this spluttering around wasting time. This would make sense.

With this new poor self-worth I allowed myself to procrastinate further and eventually stumbled on some items which would end the malaise and have brought me balance again. The first is a TED talk on youtube which has wormed its way into my thinking since I regrettably watched it. I don’t regret watching it, I regret having to admit that I watched it. The video, in all its American cliched brilliance, does raise a good point which I had fallen foul of. You cannot keep improving. You can, but you can’t. Watch the video, she says it much well betterer. This was a hard wake-up call for someone who had idolized the Wikipedia page of Nietzsche for a long while. (The irony is that I’ve never read any further…) So, self-improvement be damned. I started to feel better about not-exercising, writing or trying to contribute or think. It was fine.

Next came a week or so of Youtube and a gradual re-entry back into exercise. My attitude seemed adjusted and my rhythm slowly returned bar a few nights out. The good weather slowly crept in and on a beautiful walk in London after one of these, actually quite fun, nights out we found a sofa. The sofa brought a sense of completeness to the flat which cannot be described. After a mile of so walking with it tempers almost frayed but the sofa reminded us all that no matter how frayed things get we can still be loved. And full of lice.

This sofa wasn’t really of particular importance though it did seem to bring about a change in moods and weather. Around this time I stumbled upon the podcast S-Town and Russell Brand’s Under the skin.
Firstly, Under the Skin – this pseudo-intellectual talky by pseudo-intellectual talker Russell Brand, (of whom I am a frequent listener for many moons,) features Professors and writers of eminence and discusses key-issues with them. The show goes to highlight my earlier point about self-improvement and probably goes someway to highlight the issues of my self-improvement methods, as Brand flits from decent and comprehensive dialogue and rambling speeches of self-adulation. Somewhere in the middle is the place where he is either uninformed or overly opinionated. Throughout is the narrative of Brands world through Brands eyes. His self-improved self often making you cringe and wish you weren’t listening as he launches into a non-sequential tirade of vocabulary that often has no end point and seems to make the guest seem awkward. That said, when he can play the role of interviewer it is insightful enough to listen to. It is the precocious child getting in the way.

S-town is the opposite. It lulls you in with suspicion and the worst things you can imagine and gently spins you out in to admiration and love. And most of all acceptance. Hearing the John B Macklemore story and from the man himself allows you to set yourself somewhere along the great spectrum of humanity, such is the polarity of the character and his circumstances. The decisiveness of the show reels you in, taking path after path to get to the place you were not expecting but should have been all along. The star real-life duo of the show are probably Time and Life, not the magazines. Hearing John B speak to you as a friend about regret and genius and madness set you into a very humble position where you can’t help but want to be gracious and to improve and make the best of things except from the right circumstance.

All of these ditties have added to a buoyed mood and to this little review-come-sad-sack-story. They’ve all reinforced the beauty of my own perspective. That is the benefit and inspiration in art and in seeing others try. It’s rare and candid that I should admit that but it is a secret truth to the Mr Hummels perspective. It is actually all good. Even the very worst of it. I owe a huge amount to those who light up these moments and illustrate that any old cunt can do something. There also comes needs to be discipline and sacrifice and planning probably. But a bit of hope and belief can probably take care of that.
Apologies for the trite rubbish.

Shout out to Owen Jones who keeps me informed. And to new music, which I enjoy listening to. Expect a Fahrenheit 451 review/sad-sack piece soon.

Get bent, yours,

Mr Hummels

 

(P.S This should be called, how I started to exercise again and also listened to things and watched things just as before.)