Kid A, Kid A.

John Lennon. The Beatles. The Sea, The Sea. R.E.M. Salman Rushdie. Poetry. Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day? Arts. Film. Dining. Classic Rock. Peace in the Middle East, England winning the World Cup (again) and such like fantasies. Writing: lines,verses (yes I’d like to know where you got the notion). Theatre. O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable. U2. Reading, anything, even faded posters. Y Tu Mama Tambien. Carol Ann Duffy.  Coetzee. Naguib Mahfouz.The Conference of the Birds.The God of Small Things and the Unbearable Lightness of Being. Strawberry Fields Forever. Theology. Intellectual elitism & other forms of social fakery. Contrarian. Freedom of Thought. Freedom to Speak what is Thought. Why is a raven like a writing desk? History. Asking How Did It Come to This? Humanism. Foreign Relations and Universal Human Rights. The Indian Ocean is my novocaine. Singing like the rock star they wouldn’t let me be. The space between the tears we cry is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more. London in the rain, London in hope of the sun. Murakami. Marquez. Rumi. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Viva La Liberación. The Great Architect of the Universe. The Old Town? Rock the casbah man! Under the shadow of the Fort I was born, beside my African sea. A good argument in which I win, obviously. Adrenalin. Tel Aviv to Muscat by bus. A Sunbather’s Daydream. Asking Why? Nessun Dorma and La Donna è Mobile. Singing a Talking Heads song in the traffic jam with everybody else looking. Yes, keep looking. A long, long sleep, a famous sleep, that makes no show for dawn. Tempers and impatience. The world was on fire and no one could save me but you. The Swahili potpouri. Om Kolthom singing Enta Omri. Iran: of Persian kings, cats and carpets that fly. Bulbul Radio. Tiwi Beach. A bookcase of old memories, all that you gather, all you deny and all that you can’t leave behind.

Yesterday I woke up sucking a lemon, said Yorke.


  1. Dear Mr Noormohamed,
    This is my second attempt to write you. I cant find your email.
    Thanks for all your great work. I’m writing about my Baluchi grandparents.
    I’m requesting your permission to use some of the ancient photos from
    you Blog, with full credit to each of them as well as credit for the
    title of your post.
    Thanks, Zulf M Khalfanaptword@bell.net

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