A much shorter quiz.

The last one of these I'll post for a while, I promise. :)

Tell me about your favourite...

Book: Jack Kerouac's On the Road weakly scrapes home. I don't have a favourite book, really. I like the sheer adventure, the jazzy rhythms of the prose, and the sense that these characters are pioneers - muddled, confused and lost pioneers - ploughing a new and risky furrow. It's not the greatest book ever, but it stirred my sense of adventure and inspired me to travel, and for that I'll always cherish my grey paperback.

Album: The Smiths' The Queen is Dead. I know: hardly a curve ball selection. Never mind that it's one of the seminal records of indie; what I care about is its relation to me. I'm not a permanent misanthrope by any means, but I certainly identify with Morrissey in so many of his songs. He doesn't just express his sadness and alienation in the romantic spirit - he does it with wit. "I Know It's Over" and "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" are inimitable. If you've never had a moment where those songs echoed your very essence, then you've lived a charmed life.

Song: This is far more transient than the album choice. Recently, I've had a crush on Bjork's "Hyper-ballad". I'm not entirely sure why. I understand the song and what it's expressing, but I haven't experienced that. I think it's refracting through my own life to produce a strange, unforeseen yet heartfelt interpretation.

Film: Tough, because there's no film I've watched more than ten times. Very few over three even. Right now, I'll go for Amelie, simply because it's a delight of a movie.

Place: San Francisco. Closer to home, the Iveagh Gardens off Harcourt Street are peaceful, relatively unknown, and lovely. More generally, bed, but anywhere with my favourite people will keep me cheery.

Person: I decline to answer. I do have a definite group of favourite people, from whom I could probably pick one right now. But I won't. Suffice to say that the winner is someone I trust completely, who makes me giggle at the silliest things, who laughs at and humours my woeful puns and one-liners, who's smart and challenging (and pulls me up when I'm not), shares a goody set of my interests, and whose very appearance makes me smile, because I love their company so. Note too that each person on the shortlist ticks most, maybe even all, of those boxes.

Moment: I'm not sure. Certain marvellous moments spring to mind - those brief occasions you wish you could enjoy forever. When nothing else seemed to matter, nor did it seem like anything else ever would. A close runner-up would have to be gliding through a hamlet in Virginia. On a sweaty, starry July night, at 2am in a dark and touching-silent carriage, the air-conditioning set to shiver, I leaned on the window, enraptured, drinking with my eyes the porches of cheap wooden homes, just metres away, unshielded from the track. Laundry hung and toys lay strewn. Lights glowed softly on the porches and through some windows. In warm butter a couple in silhouette embraced, dead to the passing voyeur, yet so bewitchingly vital to him.

A beautiful night.

I did my usual last-minute shopping on Christmas Eve. 'Twas impressive work - all gifts and cards purchased in a 90-minute spree! Afterwards, I had a few drinks before taking the last bus home.

The sky in the city was clear, but further north, rolls of fog descended. The visibility was poor - the worst I'd ever seen. Once I'd hopped off the bus, I couldn't see even the outlines of objects more than 5 metres away. Any light sources were completely diffused and swallowed up by the amorphous mist. While I could navigate from memory, I was very disoriented. Which didn't scare me; rather, it was wonderful. The streets were deserted. The clouds had swallowed every trace of the world. A gorgeous solitude, of a quality I hadn't experienced since I'd arrived back in Ireland.

On the bus, I'd been listening to the new Sigur Rós album, Takk... for the first time. Alighting into the fog, it was uniquely appropriate: a transcendent polyphonic medley, with the passionate wisps and wails of an Icelandic lover. I have no idea what the lyrics mean; they could be banal as Travis. I suspect not, but I do not care. Language is younger than feeling.

On each play, the music calls to mind fresh and surreal imagery, but the overriding impression is of being joyfully lost in shimmering white light. My head rested on the window of the bus, but it could have been a train drifting into the night; a cool summer's night, its black and heady air holding down the plains of Nebraska. That was the sixth song on the album, Sæglòpur, conjuring up the thrill and expectation of spiritual adventure. Only this time I could step off the train - fulfilling my desire to fall into the bracing, alien world. And there I wandered, alone and giddy in the clouds, breathing the silver air, though it often turned pale yellow, or cerise, once even indigo, depending on the ambient light. As the album drew to a close, I made my way home. Though it was a beautiful solitude, I wanted to share Svo Hljótt with someone. Someone as beautiful as the song and the night. I didn't, of course. Someday I will. I'll set speakers up in the back garden, perhaps, or maybe in a park. Set a blanket down, and play Takk... as mist falls and midnight calls. Delirious.

I paid for my romanticism, naturally. Dancing (metaphorically) like a loon in a cold heavy fog does nothing for the lungs or throat - my voice is gone, sold to a rasping cough. Whatever. As long as I can write, dance, touch, see and hear. And yes, I'm weird. :)

Love is suicide?

Relax, it's only a music mix. Until my next post, anyway. ;) I drew up a 20-song playlist and tried to get it published on iTunes, but they didn't have all the songs available. So screw that. I'll put it here instead.

It's not upbeat - after all, it must bear some relation to the title. I'm not a genius sequencer, and maybe I could have dropped a few tracks. But the list was born on a scrap of paper during a 5 minute outpouring from my brain. I played it through, cut a few songs off, and found that on the whole, the mix really touched me. Even if the opener is a very odd choice. Anyway, here you are. There's nothing dreadfully obscure here (ahem), but it's also very unlikely that you've heard all these songs.

1. 'Desperado': Johnny Cash (The Man Comes Around)
2. 'I Would Die 4 U': Prince and the Revolution (Purple Rain)
3. 'Maps': Yeah Yeah Yeahs (Fever to Tell)
4. 'Hyperballad': The Twilight Singers (She Loves You)
5. 'Tonight': Iggy Pop (Lust for Life)
6. 'Plenty': Sarah McLachlan (Fumbling Towards Ecstasy)
7. 'Bullet Proof...I Wish I Was': Radiohead (The Bends)
8. 'Sueisfine': My Bloody Valentine (Isn't Anything)
9. 'Heart And Soul': Joy Division (Closer)
10. 'Out Of Reach': Gabrielle (Dreams Can Come True)
11. 'I Could Have Lied': Red Hot Chili Peppers (Blood Sugar Sex Magik)
12. 'Love': The Smashing Pumpkins (Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness)
13. 'Auf Achse': Franz Ferdinand (Franz Ferdinand)
14. 'Nothing Compares 2 U': Sinead O'Connor (I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got)
15. 'Acid In My Heart': The Sleepy Jackson (Lovers)
16. 'Dumb Dumb Dumb': Teenage Fanclub (Howdy!)
17. 'One Caress': Depeche Mode (Songs of Faith and Devotion)
18. 'Crown of Love': Arcade Fire (Funeral)
19. 'Last Goodbye': Jeff Buckley (Grace)
20. 'Black Hair': Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds (The Boatman's Call)

Thoughts, praise, mockery and reflections all welcome. The highest praise, of course, would be if you go and listen to the music... and then give your thoughts.