I've been thinking about death a lot lately, mainly due to grim events in my extended family. But also, today I noticed that Syd Barrett has died. The iPod knows all, for it threw his music at me as I walked to work. The plaintive sounds of 'Baby Lemonade' have never failed to affect me, sounding as they do like a love-song to his disappearing sanity.
Barrett died young (in the sense that he is not much over 50% older than me), but I always think of his life as being relatively happy. I don't know if it was, but that's how I think of it. OK, so he had his breakdown, but I imagine him pottering about his house not really doing very much, living in a state of splendid idleness. Meanwhile Roger Waters was writing operas about the French Revolution - which would you rather be?
Nevertheless, in these trying times, only one thing can save us - cute animals. I have been deriving great solace from the little birds who come to eat the food that my beloved has left out for them. They are tits and they love flying, and it's nice to hear them munching away in the small hours of the morning.
The other piece of exciting news is that Cave of the Yellow Dog opens on Friday. This is the latest film from the people who brought you that one about the weeping camel. In it a cute little dog has to prove his worth. There's a lot riding on this film, and I hope it delivers.