December 13, 2004

Clinical Neurologists

Mil Millington, author of "Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About" among other things, is now looking for a clinical neurologists to offer advice about a new book he's working on:

As you know, I finished Book 3 a while ago. It's not out until autumn next year, but the ceaseless, cruelly abrasive nature of novel writing is such that I'm already having to start work on Book 4. Now, naturally, being Mailing Listers, you all effortlessly attain a base level of intelligence and handsomeness that pops you straight into the 98th percentile of humans presently living on the Earth. What utterly delights seven to nine of my toes, however, is the fact that experience has shown me that on the Mailing List there is sure to be at least one specialist in anything I could possibly name. If I ever need to speak to, say, a paleoclimatologist, or a ship mechanic, then there will certainly be one among your number. Whatever I might, for some reason, need to explore - the details of farming practices in New Zealand, what one sees looking down a particular street in Hawaii, how it feels to be the only sixteen-year-old girl in Louisiana to have read a book, etc. - I know that, were I to ask, then the unfaltering pool of eliteness that is the Mailing List would be able to answer my questions. Well, for Book 4, it turns out I'd like to ask a few rather specific things about neurology (as Book 4 partly involves that much-overlooked area, 'the comedy of serious head injury'). So, are there any clinical neurologists out there who'd be so kissable as to drop me a line if they're prepared to submit to a little interrogation? If you're game, please give me a shout at: dr.waldman.is.oddly.unavailable@ntlworld.com Multiple thanks.

If that sort of dark humor is your thing (I know it's mine), check the short list of things that he and his girlfriend have argued about. Here's a few:

  • Which type of iron to buy (price wasn't an issue, it was the principle, damnit).
  • Where to sit in the cinema. On those occasions when we a) manage to agree to go to the cinema together and, b) go to see the same film once we're there. (No, really).
  • Whether her cutting our son's hair comes under 'money-saving skill' or 'therapy in the making'.
  • Shortly after every single time Margret touches my computer, for any reason whatsoever, I have to spend twenty minutes trying to fix crashes, locked systems, data loses, jammed drives, bizarre re-configurations and things stuck in the keyboard. There then follows a free and frank exchange of views with, in my corner, 'It's your fault,' and, in hers, 'It's a curious statistical anomaly.'
  • Margret enters the room. The television is showing Baywatch. Margret says, 'Uh-huh, you're watching Baywatch again.' I say, 'I'm not watching, it's just on.' Repeat. For the duration of the programme.
  • She wants to paint the living room yellow. I have not the words.
Posted by johndan at December 13, 2004 10:03 PM | TrackBack