News today that there may in the ether be a forthcoming Bill Hicks biopic movie delight me in the same way as mint choc chip ice cream, but the rumours that erstwhile Aussie nutbar Russell Crowe is sketched in as the lead worry me.  Sure, he looks the part, as Empire rightly point out, and he has a brooding intensity that goes well with Bill’s stage persona, but I just worry that he doesn’t have the necessary lightness of touch that Hicks coloured his life and his act with.

Ho hum, at the very least this will bring a bit more attention to the man who I can clearly state has been more of an influence on my way of thinking than any of the mish mash of pop culture that formed my personality.  I am a product of tv, music and radio, like many of my generation, but it wasn’t until Bill came along that I saw the fallacy of these teachings and looked at them with eyes anew.  A true original, the greatest stand up ever, and ever since my first year of Uni, when a friend whose name I can’t even remember now lent me a copy of ‘Rant In E Minor’ more of a God than a man to me.

Today I started reading ‘The Liar’ by Stephen Fry.  I have never read any of this books, and find I am already quite taken.  Yesterday I finished Cormac Macarthy’s ‘No Country For Old Men,’ which was majestic and depressing, with an even more downbeat ending than the film, if that’s even possible.