Tuesday 30 October 2007
Free Associations
Tonight I am going to walk from work to Macleod Station, right along Springthorpe Bvd., past an innocuous little sidestreet called Ernest Jones Dr. Ernest Jones, note, the very same who penned Sigismund Fraud's biography, popularised Hamlet's Oedipus Complex, and presided over the International Psychoanalytic Association in fluent Welsh. That, like Death and Eros, this Jones character gets his own drive tickles my post-Freudianism like nobody's business. I haven't had this much fun since they erected a sign outside the maths building at Sydney University, proclaiming it the Carslaw Complex.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
There once was a street called 'Electra' in Manly, Sydney. Man-ly, Syd-ney. And they changed her to Sydney Road. Talk about issues.
Milkshake Place. I will live there and it will be good.
My larval descendants will hatch from their egg sacs and pupate there, and then nest forevermore. Lo, I hear their chitinous crackling even now. At night they will elope from the hive to ravage nearby towns.
They will be safe, for who could suspect that they would live (dun dun dun) AT THE CORNER OF MILKSHAKE PLACE?!
I smell a B-movie in the offing.
Also, the person who programmed the word verification algorithm around here is a total bastard.
Just sayin', that's all.
I had a friend at school called Electra. You don't hear of too many kids called Oedipus, though.
Martin, I confess to not understanding what you're talking about, but all best with the chitinous crackling.
Too many late nights, too many B-movies, not enough sleep, too much time on my hands and too little sense. It was bound to catch up to me in the end.
Of the Oedipus or Carslaw Complex, I know nothing, but I have an old and traumatic relationship with the Coleslaw Complex.
This little known Freudian condition causes me to go to pieces over the mere hint of grated carrots on salad. Also, I have a secret desire to be eaten by a radish, and the site of mayonnaise on salad causes me to have hysterics.
This is just between you and me and the rest of the internet, m'kay?
Gives new meaning to "You look radishing!"
Thankfully, I have recently joined a group that offers some help for people in my condition. It's name is 'The Primal Vegetable', and the aim of this group is to make you reclaim the archetypal Vegetable within so you act less like an actual vegetable without.
Every Thursday, we gather in a small community centre in Coburg and engage in therapeutic activites like photosynthesis, sprouting new limbs in the dirt, or growing foliage out of our heads. When the evening finishes, we all join hands together and make a noise like carrots for 15 minutes, or until unison with the inner vegetable archetype is achieved. It is very soothing.
I have nothing to say to you, Tim. Your inner carrot leaves me for dead.
Post a Comment