This actually works really well. The pauses help the flow and the mockery is gentle. There's a few hundred lines worth salvaging amidst the avalanche of drivel and the first few pages, "The Paragraph", whilst hardly Proust, are gems compared to the car-crash middle 8 and end live riffings. If someone could go through with a green pen and slash away, without losing the will to live, the brief Tweets, the lines that remain, would be wonderful set to a suitable musical backdrop. Not The Smiths or Morrissey-Solo, as that would be obvious, but some elegant string quartet for childhood. With a booming tympani orchestral sturm und drang for "The Court Case:The Worst Ever Injustice In British Legal History"...but who to choose..*thinking*.. Of course! Kronos Quartet..Now, how did Marcel begin his opus, which is good, but obviously not a classic like "Autobiography" by Morrissey. I think I'll recite Proust to Kronos-Sigur before going out on the pull tonight:
"For a long time I used to go to bed early. Sometimes, when I had put out my candle, my eyes would close so quickly that I had not even time to say “I’m going to sleep.” And half an hour later the thought that it was time to go to sleep would awaken me; I would try to put away the book which, I imagined, was still in my hands, and to blow out the light; I had been thinking all the time, while I was asleep, of what I had just been reading, but my thoughts had run into a channel of their own, until I myself seemed actually to have become the subject of my book: a church, a quartet, the rivalry between François I and Charles V. This impression would persist for some moments after I was awake; it did not disturb my mind, but it lay like scales upon my eyes and prevented them from registering the fact that the candle was no longer burning. Then it would begin to seem unintelligible, as the thoughts of a former existence must be to a reincarnate spirit; the subject of my book would separate itself from me, leaving me free to choose whether I would form part of it or no; and at the same time my sight would return and I would be astonished to find myself in a state of darkness, pleasant and restful enough for the eyes, and even more, perhaps, for my mind, to which it appeared incomprehensible, without a cause, a matter dark indeed.."