I wonder how long…..

The above link is from a BBC programme called Alan Partridge, an alias a British comedian–Steve Coogan–created for himself for his comedy radio and now TV shows.

Do you remember Steve Coogan?  I asked myself one Saturday around two weeks ago, when I listened to a radio show talking about his movie, Stan and Ollie, on my way back home from my regular shopping duty.

Not really, I replied myself musing, but something seems stuck in my head when you mention this guy my friend.


About a week ago, when my son re-watched Despicable Me 2 in Netflix, that name Steve Coogan rolled out in the opening.  “Oh…Steve Coogan…..is one of the voices. Who is he? The CIA boss? Who is he?" I asked my son, this time not musing, who had his eyes on the Tele, kept ignoring me.

“Argh…..I remember him now," I yelled, silently but musing this time, to myself, “Alan Partridge. Knowing Me, Knowing You. Haha. That stupid show he made I listened about a month ago."

Audience. Have you had experience watching some video scene moments, or listening some clips of dialogue, that you think so stupid but you can’t forget them no matter how you try, not because they are good but because they are stuck in your head like that monster slug in Series 1 of Stranger Thing?

“Knowing Me, Knowing You. Haha" of Steve Coogan/Alan Partridge is this slug to me.  Let me here explain. But you may not need me to explain Audience. But because it’s my blog my turf so you can’t stop me explain even you hate me explain because I have been so bad at explaining anything.  Alan Partridge is a so-called “Funny" show in which Alan Partridge, a fake character doing a series of fake interview show interviewing some fake guests, during which Alan Partridge as a presenter keeps asking incendiary questions to piss those fake guests off, who fake their outrage in response, until the end of the show. Time to time there is audience laughing sound, which should be fake. Time to time Alan Partridge leads the audience to say out loud the same slogan “Knowing Me, Knowing You. Haha".  At the core, the series of show are all fake, with a stupid slogan.  Such an absurd  interviewing radio show is literally what a WWE Wrestling show to martial art. That first time I listened to the show in MTR (the safest public transportation in the world to the world until the world witnessed it was but a fake this week), I kept telling myself musing but loudly “It’s so stupid. For Chris Sake. 屌你."

But it is stuck in my head and I cannot get rid of it.

This experience is never strange to me.  I remember when I was so young, like 16-17 years old (now 39), I bought VCD of Man on the Moon by Jim Carey, with such an enthusiasm of getting a great time after watching his Truman Show, turning out jaw dropping disappointed and confused. “What the hell," told I to myself and my brother next to me, then no musing.  I thought then it was so unfunny through and through.  But something about it was stuck in my head. Put it correctly, I just could not delete every scene of the movie since then. They are just stuck there.  Especially the part when Andy Kaufman faked a woman-hating wrestler to wrestle and harass his opponents. They all got some angry. And finally the professional wrestler punched him to neck fissure, being stretched to hospital. And all of those were fake. All fake. The whole thing was fake. Maybe the hospital part was not but I wonder it was also a fake.


But it is stuck in my head and I cannot get rid of it.


Every night now I take care of your things for getting you to bed. The herb extract on your pillow. Another pillow for cushioning your legs. Unfolding your quilt. Helping you lotion your body. Prepare you the electric fan in case you feel hot on your scar in the middle of your sleep.

One night you wanted me to hug you when you had your sleeping position while your eyes were piercing me, spiking me.  I opened my chest and fell on you but lightly, wondering my 68kg body now might crush your 38kg body. I tried to focus, telling myself to focus, musing, grasping every moment of feeling. Feeling your bony arms and fingers strolling my hair, to the spine all the way to my sacrum, lightly. Feeling your half now getting hard a bit, but lightly. Wondering how I want it so bad I don’t love you, even hate you, so I can avoid this pain in my heart. My head. All stuck in my head. Like that Strange Thing.

One night we discussed going to somewhere for vacation, where I don’t particularly like. I said I didn’t particularly like.  Wherever you liked.  I would enjoy everywhere you are with me. And you replied not musing, cause I could hear clearly, “I wonder how long I can be with you."  Your wonder has hurt me since. I told you but musing. I didn’t actually speak out. Just musing.

And I hear a sound in my brain.

The pain the anxiety the worries are too much to me. So I need it badly. The Comedy.

The Comedy. Even the absurd one like Alan Partridge.

So yesterday on my way home on that safest transport in the world, I decided to re-listen to Alan Partridge from episode one.

This time, I even felt the joy, the fun in this absurdity. And I really laughed in that safe transit. This time, not musing.




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