Kitty

taxes-and-laundry asked:

In the event of nuclear holocaust, how do you intend to survive in the wasteland that is to follow?

neil-gaiman answered:

I have learned from The Twilight Zone that in case of a Nuclear Holocaust the most important thing is to always have lots of spare pairs of reading glasses.

relevant-catnik:

Originally posted by moviesludge

derit-s asked:

Hello Mr. Gaiman, I hope this isn't too silly a question but I figured if anything it might serve as a small break from Good omens related questions, which must be an awful lot so close to the release date: I noticed that you mention The Beatles more than a few times in your replies and I was wondering, do you happen to be a fan of them or do you just mention them in a Generic-famous-band kind of way when you need to make examples? Do you have a favorite album or songs of theirs?

Again I apologise if the question isn't particularly deep, thank you for taking the time to read this and have a nice day :)

neil-gaiman answered:

I figure that the Beatles have lasted and that people know who they are (or were) in a way that people might not follow if I made a Velvet Underground or Magnetic Fields reference.

Talking about which, the Magnetic Fields are going to be playing all of 69 Love Songs (over two nights) over 6 gigs in 5 US locations in 2024.

randimason:

neil-gaiman:

sarcasmgal-blog:

THE MAGNETIC FIELDS ARE DOING WHAT

They are on tour. Look:

Presale info is being released right now at

The House of Tomorrow

The House of Tomorrow

And here is a 22 year old photograph from The Bottom Line club on Sunday, June 17, 2001. It was a double bill. We each did two shows that night.

Weirdly, I was the one they spelled right.

The Bottom Line was New York City’s living room. Not so much small and intimate as comfortably crowded.

It was on Father’s Day (US) so Neil read us Blueberry Girl.

Blueberry Girl was a gift for Tash, Tori Amos’ daughter, and was private.

Neil asked us to turn off any recording devices, so the poem wouldn’t leave the room, and you heard clicks, and then silence.

Neil shared this sweet secret poem with us for Father’s Day, a poem about mothers and daughters.

I’d taken the L from Sheepshead Bay into Greenwich Village to have an adventure, leaving my mother and father behind with my grandparents to see Neil.

My family was unhappy that I’d put my own wants ahead of Father’s Day expectations. But then they were so often unhappy with everything. Still are.

Blueberry Girl captured an aspirational relationship, not the one my mom experienced raising a crying, irrational being. The expectations of the time were that it and her arguably more rational husband were now focus of her identity. She was only 24 when I showed up.

I’d kissed 24 goodbye almost a decade before 2001, yet I was still a tremendous fuck up at meeting family expectations. I failed at doing the things that I saw made my parents miserable. Blueberry Girl was a beautiful poem, but that it would relate to real mothers and daughters was a bit of a laugh.

But I wished it wouldn’t be. And I’m glad it’s no longer a secret.