“A ghost of a mist…”

 There are many Christmas songs, some cheesy and forgettable, some worth a listen.  But so few Easter songs.  In fact the only one I can think of is this one from 1990 by the perenially unfashionable, yet remarkably resilient prog rock survivors Marillion

OK, the lyrics – alluding to the then fashionable subject of the Northern Irish conflict – are a little tacky in places (there are even subtle literary nods to WB Yeats and Sean O’Casey in there), but the photography (filmed at the Giants Causeway) is noteworthy. 

And it’s a decent song, one of the band’s rare forays into the folkie stuff.  And appropriate to the time of year.  Very fittingly it comes from an album entitled Seasons End (deliberate non-use of apostrophe).  Marillion’s season may have ended a long time ago, but fair play to them (and their legions of anoraky fans – present author included) for refusing to go away! 

What you might call a guilty pleasure.


Three years of the Dreaming Arm(adillo)

Well it’s now three years since I sent my very first post hurtling into the blogosphere. A very short piece it was too, but as the old saying goes “from a tiny acorn grows the mighty oak”. Back then I was using my elongated blog name “The Dreaming Armadillo”, of which the last three syllables were dropped for expediency – in much the same way as the prog rock band Marillion (formerly known as “The Silmarilion” after the book by JRR Tolkien) shortened their name. Although their truncation was, I believe more connected with legal reasons and fear of copyright litigation. I’ve enjoyed my adventures in the deep, murky and uncharted depths of that vast parallel universe known as the blogosphere and met some interesting and varied people both virtually and physically. Thanks to all readers, contributors, commenters and linkers for their continued support.

I don’t plan to continue blogging for much longer and intend to wind up this blog for at some point in early 2009. It’s got to the stage where enough is enough, although it’s been a fascinating three years. I hope to write a few more posts before this arm dreams for the last time, but for the moment at least it’s business as usual.