Friday, February 20, 2009


I'm reading a book on George Orwell. It's called Finding George Orwell In Burma. It's not the worst read ever. In fact, sometimes it's almost engrossing. Interesting fellow, Orwell. Very interesting, indeed. It turns out his real name was Eric Blair. Go figure.

A couple of days ago I was reading this book and decided to call it quits -- for the time being. I was on page 184, and I thought, 'Well, that will be easy to remember!' First, because George Orwell wrote Animal Farm. Second, because 1 + 8 + 4 = 13, and George Orwell was hugely superstitious -- hugely! He once threw a porter out of a second story window when he discovered he had been checked into Room 213. The guy was a raving lunatic!

Of course, going crazy is a time-honored tradition for writers. Certainly Orwell isn't the only author who lost it from time to time. There was also the time Rudyard Kipling went a little 'coocoo.' If memory serves, he had an episode where he thought the Irish Potato Famine was still going on and he believed that he was a potato, causing him to run down the streets of London shouting, "I am a potato! Eat me, people -- eat me!" Rudyard got sent away on a little 'vacation' shortly after that. It seems to have straightened him out.

Of course, we all need some straightening out, though, don't we? From time to time.


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