By Alfie Hardman

F%ck gliding.

For much of this week I fear I may have been gliding. Well Monday was a write off as I was in bed seeing off tonsillitis. Out of the three states Marc says we’re always in, flying, gliding or falling – gliding is by far my least favourite. Is that a weird thing to say?

I’d take falling over gliding and here’s why.

When you glide the consequence of what you are doing means the least. For both falling and flying the gravity of things is probably around the same depending on whether you’re a tad on the drama king/queen side or you’re a bit of a fist pumper with an air of overly enthusiastic personal trainer-ness about you (we’re all victims of both occasionally, admit it).

No, what I hate about gliding is the “meh” image that distorts everything you see no matter how big the opportunities around it are. I mean you could be answering a brief like we were earlier this month that actually has the power to save lives and all you can think about is getting a cornetto from the offy or throwing an empty cup in the bin from a distance “first time!”

Another reason to hate gliding is the usual stuff that gets you into a child state of mind doesn’t work. If I’m ever feeling uninspired or just grey, (a colour it seems to me epitomises city ordinariness) I’ll watch a ten-minuet episode of this cartoon called The Big Lez. Entirely made on paint and made mostly by one weird and wonderful guy called Jarred Wright this show is a perfect balance of unnerving randomness, crude humour and wacky narrative. For example, Homer Simpson looking creatures called “Choomahs” brutally invade their small Australia town and a team of Star Wars Chewy looking creatures called “sassquatches” that devour drugs and go about ridding the island of them. Oh this all act as a subplot for Lez’s petty hatred of his brother Norton whom he dreams of killing. 

Anyhow… you can see how deep my love is for this bizarre, twister cartoon goes and well not even this works when I’m gliding at getting the child mind whirring. I think part of the reason why I felt this way has been down to tonsillitis, not eating a solid for two and a half days was awful but not having a ciggie for five now… much worse. In this game of creative communication I feel I have to bring forward some kind of extra energy into Brixton every day and if your bodies bumming out in any way I’ve learnt this week that its incredibly hard to ascertain that. It’s also one reason why I’m going to take Marc’s advice and not work on the film for the portfolio brief (…IN FOR TOMORROW) all night.