Heart Full Of Napalm • 06.18.08
There’s a new blog on the block, as there are most minutes of most days of most weeks - but unlike some this one is unquestionably worth the read. A joy from start to finish. As the mysterious streetwalkingcheetah points out in their first post:
I didn’t have clue how to start, so I took some of the best opening lines in music history and used those instead. Thanks, Iggy.
It’s a bit misleading, though. Streetwalking Cheetah? Hardly. More like Panda-in-Captivity, except not as cute. Most of my ’streetwalking’ is done between this desk and the coffeeshop, which I don’t really think counts. The rest of the time I sit in my cage (read: 20th floor reception area), doing the corporate equivalent of lazing round, chewing bamboo and refusing to have sex with other Pandas (read: folding things, looking at the internet and refusing to photocopy).
I’m going to pretend I didn’t just descend into the use of office humour or tenuous metaphors; otherwise I’ll have to throw this whole adventure in before I’ve even begun.
This is a blog which is unbelievably well written, so much so that it puts the majority of my wittering to shame, and in all honesty makes him feel quite unskilled in the realm of the written world…but thems the breaks! So don’t even wait to get the chance, hop on over to this blog and check it out.
My own personal favourite post so far…well, that would be Quiet Up There People, I’m Trying to Work. Not merely because it touches on themes which have been present throughout this blog, but because it is a beautifully crafted piece which deserves far wider acclaim than merely the blogosphere.
Yep, another one of the darned days where I feel like I’m a grouchy neighbour who keeps banging threateningly on his roof with a broom shouting “Heavens to Betsy, would y’all KEEP IT DOWN!” while my fabulous co-tenants party/have sex/fight above me. Except that the noisy co-tenants are my anything-but-fabulous thoughts and the grouchy neighbour is the rest of me and I don’t have the benefit of a dividing roof, or indeed a broom, and we’re all stuck in the one terrifying space together, otherwise known as my body.
That metaphor was so strained I think I might have pulled something.
So while the metaphor-composing part of my brain is off on the sidelines having a rub-down, the rest of me will continue with this increasingly nonsensical post. Those of you who have seen Post Numero Uno (I’m assuming fairly confidently that this blog has an audience of one, and that person is currently inexplicably imagining themselves to be a grouchy old American man with a broom circa 1958, so this is probably unnecessary, but I’ll humour myself) will know that on of the raisons d’etre for this blog is to try and shut up my noisy, overcrowded head. So here we go.
So away ye go now and enjoy, and we can only hope streetwalkingcheetah returns often and soon with more delightful writings.






















