Thursday, August 28, 2008
I'm 43, white, male. And yet still I come up against situations for which I have no easy answer.
This is unfair. Surely all my hurdles should have been cleared by the age of 12?
No, that's right, didn't go to public school, therefore don't have the cultural entitlement thing going on.
Therefore explained. Sorry I wasted your time.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Bunnies wearing nylon tabards and gambolling through robust economies, variously complaining about the energy surplus in Russia.
(I'm channelling radio 4 news in part and fractions)
The market wants to pull the capital flight from the war, nonetheless, in the global economy.
And now the sport.
Fuck you, Australia. We won more medals than you sitting down.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I'm not a zeitgeist type of prole, or nebbish, I don't have a stick with electrics in that with which I can talks to persons more than many yards away. In fact I find the shouting over chain-link fence, from one to another, suffices in the hard-sunshined backlots hereabouts.
"Hey, Cletus, you got the sack out the basement yet, ya motherfucker," is all I have to say to communicate to my social network.
Cletus, redneck, redface, always responds with "Fuck ya facebook, I'm blocking ya friend request, cocksucker, I got to friend me some clart on the social me applification."
"Yeah, poke me, ya fucker," I say.
I crack open another beer and wonder if I can piss on my dog again.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The continuing descent into senescence of our hero, the de-centred self, as he/she becomes something or other, but with a plot.
The story so far:
- Albonia sucks
- Fusel is dead but knot forgotten
- Bêbe is bereft
- This all a dream and can I wake up now?
- Trees have teeth
From this imaginary travels
Sunday, August 17, 2008
After having done something fairly heroic.
Maybe involving fire, or subsequent seismic movements in the underground: one complete rock grinds against another mile high piece of thing thrusting and pushed up plate tectonics.
And me in a cape and tights (but not zentai) do the laser eyes thing, and all is set to rest.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
So, a completely random post now. The digits of PI defined by the increasing sparks of information transmitted up the M4 motorway by the serried ranks of sodium lamps. One off, one on, dimming in the twilight, and like a synapse, inhibited or excited by the inputs of the lamps up the slip-roads from the A roads.
B roads are a chemical embrace around the roundabouts that circle under and around the dendrite length of the motorway where big LED signs sometimes express (reify) the messages from one end to the other - the M1 communicates its displeasure 200 miles in each direction.
Massive pope sighted rising above moon. NASA sends jesuit-based probe to investigate. Two of holy trinity spotted, holy ghost indistinct.
Tiny saints in orbit around massive lunar pope are identified as early martyrs. Auto da fe is filled with petrol and sent to investigate.
Massive lunar pope is posited to be extrusion of the godhead into local quantum space in Capricorn, Saturn. Astrologers suicide in droves.
Massive lunar pope grazes van allen belt. Northern lights say "eeee, thez sparkles in t'atmosphere". Patrick Moore is canonised.
Massive lunar pope touches down in arctic waste. Russians stick flag in it, but out of a submarine.
Massive lunar pope beatifies small dogs. Dobermans, Dalmatians and Great Danes mount protest, and each other. Really big dog is produced.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
I don't believe in fish either. We may have evolved from them, granted: that's not the fundamental principle I'm trying to espouse right here.
No, instead I'm trying to explain my lack of faith in our aquatic cousins in a general, kind of over-arching way.
Fuck fish, in other words.