31.8.04 | Customs and Traditions of English Pirates In The 17th Century
During my in-depth research into cultures in the 17th Century, i came across, as you do, the usual slang references of sea-faring terms...
Y'know, "Arr!"; "Shiver me timbers!"; "Splice the mainbrace!" "Offend the carrot!"
"Offend the carrot?" says you, disbelief registering firmly within your suspicious eyes. "Pshaw!"
"Arr" sez i. Knowingly, and suddenly producing and lighting a long wooden pipe in true Gandalf fashion. Wisdom and knowledge exude exotically from every pore of my being. Also there is a small winged cat perched comfortably on my shoulder. As if by magic. Don't ask about the cat though. No. Don't. Shhh. Pretend it's not there. ok? OK?!
"Arr" i sez again. "Ye may mock, but in the 1600's...
(small interjection here. does it piss anyone else off that numerically, we've got one more century than the actual date. Fuckin' confusin' or what? Anyway on with the story...)
... there began a tradition, attributed to one Mauvebeard The Sane of "Offending the Carrot" before the ship set sail. Y'see, before even the sails were unfurled, each pirate on the ship had to make an orderly queue and one after the other, offend the Ships Carrot for good luck in pirating. But...
If any pirate repeated an insult to the carrot made previously, they were made "Ships Cook".
And that's why pirates were so fierce! (Especially if there was decent food to be had in the raids)
Incidentally, Mauvebeard also seems to have invented the ritual known as "Addressing the Carrot" whereby the sailors boarding his vessel The Happy Otter had to greet the Ships Carrot with a curtsy and a "Good day, m'lud" or be made Ships Wench. Despite his quaint customs and penchant for wearing a carrot pinned to his shoulder at all times. Mauvebeard the Sane wielded a fearsome reputation throughout all the shipping lanes of the world.
Mad as a toaster, though.
(And a thanks to Amanda for giving me the idea in the first place. You will assuredly be "remembered" throughout history, Amanda!)
30.8.04 | Something To Look Forward To (Oh Joy)
AS i remember some of you enjoyed that Philip Larkin poem i linked to the other month, i thought i'd put this one up by his friend Kingsley Amis, i've had this cutting lying around the castle for some small while now and it's about time i threw it out... too much clutter on me desktop already, y'see...
A view of ageing, i have read, and would agree, that it makes a very fine companion piece to Larkins Aubade. The full article from which i'm copying it can probably be found on THe Guardian newspapers website (see Linkage Bollocks down side) But i can't be arsed to go and look for it for you just now. So here it is:
Things tell less and less:
The news impersonal
And from afar; no book
Worth wrenching off the shelf.
Liquor brings dizziness
And food discomfort; all
Music sounds thin and tired,
And what picture could earn
The self drowses in the self
Beyond hope of a visitor.
Desire and those desired
Fade, and no matter:
Memories in decay
Annihilate the day.
There once was an answer:
Up at the stroke of seven,
A turn around the garden
(Breathing deep and slow),
Then work, never mind what,
How small, provided that
It serves another's good
But once is long ago
And, tell me, how could
Such an answer be less than
Be right all along?
Vain echoes, desist
27.8.04 | La la la la laa laa LAA LAA LAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! la la la
La la lala, dum-di-dum, ho-hum....
It's just words. Nothing of relevance here today, ay ahm having one of Dr Seuss' Grey Days is all. That's my favourite of all his books... "My Many Coloured Days".
It's pissing down. Nothing to do. No- it's not real piss obviously, silly! Neither would it be real spit if i said "hey boys an' girls, it's spitting". And i'm not going to discuss the issues around phrases like "It's raining cats and dogs". So there.
Rainy day, dream all day.
First line to a Hendrix song that was. No, i can't remember which one. (laughs)
I discovered my old Zoom guitar fx processor today. Haven't dared plug it in to see if the poor dear is still working after all these years... i need to get practising on my Ric again i think... 'tis good therapy... hmm, woulda showed yer pics of the yummy fireglow on my baby, but the Rickenbacker site seems not to be responding. Ah well...
for anyone who's curious, my guitar style is something like a cross between Slowdive, Godspeed You Black Emperor! My Bloody Valentine, Seefeel, and Nico (Of Velvet Underground fame).
Done badly. Haaaaah! Feel my pain! Yerss! Feel ittt! And hear it. Also! And then it can become your pain too. You can thank me later. With money. But no hitmen this time please. It takes simply ages to get the blood outta the carpets...
As am currently bored to death, will accept any offers of a conversation on MSN, ICQ or similar. (see e-mail address on profile re: offers). Will not accept responsibility for state of your sanity afterwards though. Will almost certainly talk bollocks the whole way through conversation. Entertaining bollocks perhaps, but still bollocks...
There you go. That's all folkses... oh... apart from this: At home With The Richies which i found on blogjam.com . Does it involve swearing? Have a guess... go on, have a guess!!
Quick Update Type Thing: It seems that i'd mistyped the email in my profile. Apologies for anyone who's tried to get in touch. The problem is hopefully now corrected and i am now available for all kinds of misdemeanours. Unless your name is Carl and then only on Saturdays using a suitable pseudonym...
25.8.04 | A Pseudo-Tribute To The Last Chapter of James Joyce's "Ulysses"
*Yes and do you want to change the constant stifling of your own voice and powers she said but not quite like that and i could think of no answer but i knew somewhere far away inside of me there is a child weeping and an old man weeping and they have both lost something dear to them but i can't for the life of me think what for i cannot even begin to grasp who i am and what i want anymore although i do know i do not want this continual existence on the edge of twilight walking in shadows until the end oh no that's not for me i so long to see the sun reflecting off a field of buttercups again and hear the river laughing it's way through the valley again but don't get me wrong here i love the moon as much as anyone and more than most it's just that you can't put all those eggs in one basket and i want to breathe deeply of the waking world once more do you see i always think of it like that Buddhist teaching where you are a playing a lute and you must neither tighten the strings so tight that they snap nor loosen them so much that the sound is all wrong and out of tune and did you see Keanu Reeves in that film it was his one good film i thought and i am very out of tune and my voice and power do indeed feel so very weak Prospero said and now my powers are all o'erthrown and what strength i've left is all mine own which is most faint faint faint yes everything feels distant how did i become this i who am most intelligent and compassionate towards others is this perhaps some kind of balance is that why most people find it easier to be crueller than kinder in the world today certainly many of those with hearts suffer more than those without i should be a stone unthinking and unflinching upon a beach beset only by the winds and tides i do so miss the sea i wonder if that's my Cornish ancestry but what of that it was so long ago and barely remembered amongst my family today i often find myself thinking of the past y'know even when it's no longer mine sometimes i remember my grandfather even though he's been dead over twenty years now we used to sit by the bowling green in the warm afternoon sun and he would take a penknife with a black handle and a bright red English apple out of his jacket pocket and peel the skin away before slicing segments up for us both i still have that penknife and i still peel apples that same way even after all these years i loved him so and yet i was the only one who did not weep on his funeral day when the curtains closed to upon the casket was that when i numbed myself to the world oh i miss him so and the others too there are thousands of people all carefully stored away within me some much loved like her she was so shy and defiant and quite beautiful with her dark gipsy hair and eyes full of enquiring vulnerability why we laughed at the whole world that first evening it was like nothing existed but we and we whispered and passed secret notes all night long oblivious to our friends around us in that bar some strangers that i only saw or heard for a fleeting second there was a very small child who waved both with sadness and joy at the entire bus as she was lifted off the doors step by her embarrassed and proud mother i remember them all as i age and the days go by ever swifter and swifter why sometimes i think i should be an angel in Wings of Desire you haven't seen it you should but most of all i remember her gipsy hair and eyes and of how she looks today and i try to remember that i don't want to disappoint her after all we've been through and be somebody that she can be proud of even if she no longer loves me the way she used to yes.
19.8.04 | Conversations With My Pumpkin (Pt 4. The Testicles of Love)
("Are we on part 4 already?"
"Shut up! You'll spoil the mood!")
Pumpkin has been feeling pretty low and blehhh for a few days, and so i am indulging in my usual delightful banter in a vain attempt to cheer her up.
"...two Charverscum Nuns in the bath, right? And one sez to the other, "'Ey up!- Yer big fookin' lezzer! 'Ave yuu got that soap up yer flaps again, yer fookin' slag?" An' 'tother sez "Yer, i have. What's it to you anyways? Besides y'know you Fookin' love it!" Ta-daa!"
"Right. right. There were these two sharks swimming in the North Sea. One sez to 'tother. "Bloody 'ell! Two fookin' nuns arguin' in a floating bathtub! Y'don't see them in the wrong joke very often". Boom! Boom!
"Bingy bongy boo?"
Nothing. I suppose i could tell the Really Sick Funny Joke, but i've been saving that one up for a special occasion... besides, it's too sick for the discerning internet blogger... no really. I cast my mind desperately around for something to distract her...
"Ah love yew Pumpkin"
"Ah love yew more than...er..."
Quick! think think. What could i love hugely enough that mai Pumpkin would really appreciate me for loving her more than? And did that last sentence make any sense? Whatsoever? oh i got it..no... don't say that!!
"...mai bollocks!" (too late...)
"What?" (Aha! the ole Reverie-broken-via-astonishment-trick!)
Well i've come this far... got a response...
"Yeah. I love yew more than mai bollocks!"
(Well... it's original)
"No you bloody don't! No wayyy!"
"Yeah! Yehh!- i DO!! Why, if i was to have to choose between yew an' my bollocks, i'd choose yew every time!"
"I don't think soOo!"
"'s true!! I'm hurt. Y'mean y' doubt my love for yew?"
"Well i'm up against your bollocks here, figuratively speaking. Something you've been attached to for a very long time, despite constant attempts to prove to you that they do you more harm than good..."
(I wince at the memories)
"...and i fail to see how you might arrive at a situation where you'd have to choose the bollocks or me... perhaps you'd enlighten me on that count?"
"erm... Well... erm... suppose i had me bollocks in a vice and erm... saw some failing masonry heading towards you, and, erm, my only way to save you was to leap hurriedly towards you and drag you out of the way, and thus in the process lose 'em, um, somewhat painfully, i might add. That might happen... er..."
"What in God's name would your bollocks be doing in a vice!!??!!" (Said apoplectically)
"Well i might be... working on them!" (Said with slight hysteria)
"Working on them?!?! WORKING ON THEM?????!!?!"
(i move phone away slightly from ear. To allow her full expressiveness in my air-space).
...Pleb-Boy, You haven't thought this all the way through, have you?".
And Pumpkin laughs. Phew. Result.
..."Still, you've given me some ideas..."
17.8.04 | The Saturnyne Went To The Cinema. Ages ago...
Once upon a time,
When the Saturnyne was barely more a saproling, or barely more than a Saturn (With the "yne-ing" to come later), there was a large and imposing cinema in the nearby town. THe town was once a thriving place like many towns in East Lancashire, and had many many cinemas, all hustling and bustling with people determined to have a jolly time (And for the most part, they did), as they sat enthralled by the wonders of the silver screen. Alas, however, television arrived, and with this new wonder, people no longer made the effort to be quite so sociable, and so, one by one the cinemas closed, and became other things, one a night-club, another a bingo-hall, this other, a derelict ruin, with perhaps the echoes of ghost people and their delight within it's crumbling edifice...
Until there was just this one. A relic of the not-so-distant 60's. Three large screens in the darkness, reached via traversing many flights of twisting stairs. Unloved and derelict by the time Saturnyne attends what was almost it's last showing. There were rumours of rats in the stalls...
There he goes, look. -it's a rainy midweek evening, and the Saturnyne is striding purposefully towards the stairs into the cinema, his long coat and long hair fluttering mournfully in his wake. He is bored and has decided a movie would be a fine thing to see and pass the time. He is coming to see Hellraiser. And he is alone.
(It feels quite strange, going to the cinema by yourself. The Saturnyne recommends you do it at least once in your life.)
Just how alone becomes all too apparent, when surveying the inside of the cinema to find his seat. He is the only customer this evening.
Great. That'll really help the atmosphere...
Vast gothic cinema: check
Horror film: check
Popcorn. Fucking horrible popcorn: check
Shlurpy so-called-orange flavoured drink for all the dull bits: check
Sticky floor (For that special feeling of slight revulsion): check
Distant rustling noises in the stalls: check
Fear of rats: Checkity fecking check
So The Saturnyne sits not a little squeamishly in his seat right in the middle of the cinema. Vaguely tormented by feelings of elitism, that great directors feel when they're having their own private screenings, slightly wondering about how big rats can grow, somewhat worried that he's going to find he's sat in an undiscernible sticky patch...
Curtains draw back. No adverts. Whoo! Film starts. Whoo! Great film (please note dear reader, when we say "great film" we're not necessarily saying this is gonna be listed in our Blog fave films bit... it's not that great.
About halfway in, the creeping and rustling noises which The Saturnyne has been diligently trying to ignore, make themselves most apparent during a particulaly quiet bit
Surely this noise was next to us?
Shall we risk a quick glance?
There appears to be a very large rat sitting in the seat next to us. Something odd about it
Reappraisal of situation?
Probably good idea. Hope it doesn't notice us. After all it's rude to stare.
There appears to be more rats in other seats. Still something odd...
Very long glance.
Aah, that's the oddity. They appear to be watching the flm.
Rat turns towards us, twitching it's whiskers and seemingly grinning.
"Good film, innit? You gonna hog that popcorn all night, mate?"
We pass the popcorn.
A pleasant time is had by all.
15.8.04 | How the West Sees Muslim States
We all remember the horrors of World Trade Centre attacks. We all saw the news footage. It's not something that can easily be forgotten. Nor should it.
I also remember news footage shown of Palestinians cheering and celebrating in the streets. It's hard to imagine how a people can be brought to this state. You really have to be one of them to understand how low they have sunk, methinks. This post is not about them, however, as much as i sympathize with them and their plight. Nor is this about the poor victims of 9/11.
No, this is about the people of Iran. Another Arab state demonized by the West.
Does anyone recall the news footage from Tehran on the day the Twin Towers fell?
I don't. I don't remember seeing anything at all from that country on the day. Nor the day after.
And yet footage there certainly is. I saw some the other night. There was an in-depth documentary on the BBC (Very late at night i might add. not very brave. I have noticed a particular trend in recent years, regarding Muslim-friendly/anti Zionist programs being shunted into the late night t.v. slots)
The footage i saw was of a demonstration. A large demonstration against terrorism. There were chants too, shouting "Condolences to America". Many candles were alight. People, both men and women wept openly.
So. I'm wondering. Did i just happen to be out of the room when this was shown on the news? Or did it simply not get broadcast? Whichever country you live in, i'd be pleased to hear from you and whether any footage of this nature was shown there...
I think i should point out in closing that i am neither pro-Arabic nor anti Israeli. Just pro-human rights. There are many governments around the world which deny their citizens basic dignity and basic human rights.
Dear reader? Do you know what your government is doing? Tread carefully. Tread bravely. Wherever you are...
13.8.04 | Emperor Who???
"At the pre-emptory request of a large majority of the citizens of these United States, I, Joshua Norton, formerly of Algoa Bay, Cape of Good Hope, and now for the past nine years and ten months of San Francisco, California, declare and proclaim myself Emperor of these U.S., and in virtue of the authority thereby in me vested, do hereby order and direct the representatives of the different States of the Union to assemble in the Musical Hall of this city on the 1st day of February next, then and there to make such alterations in the existing laws of the Union as may ameliorate the evils under which the country is laboring, and thereby cause confidence to exist, both at home and abroad, in our stability and integrity."
- Norton I,
September 17th, 1859
With this proclamation, the first of many, did Joshua Abraham Norton declare himself Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico.
As a couple of people asked me who or what this Emperor Norton was in my profile, i thought now might be a good time to answer.. a little... first of all here's a picture of him:
Doesn't he look fabulous? If that man was my emperor, i'd not complain!
I first came across His Noble Majesty in the pages of the Sandman comic; his was a rather beautifully told short story called "Three Septembers And A January" and was centred around a wager that Dream had been become embroiled in with his siblings... you should read it. It's... different...
And so, when i arrived on the internet, this extraordinary "Eccentric" as some might vulgarly call him was practically the first thing i searched for... after the porn of course... actually he came several months after the porn... i mean i really had to "research" everything... um, there sure are some weird tastes out there... kinda makes me feel sorry for the Marquis De Sade; whom i reckon would have been directing the stuff with glee if he'd been around today...
*ahem* moving on...
there are several sites about him. Most of which you can find here: The Emperor
and it was whilst perusing these webpages that i came across a particular story, which i plagiarize quite cheerfully from here because it's well told... ah, and saves me the time of re-writing it.
"One night a gang of vigilantes gathered for a pogrom against San Francisco's Chinatown. All that stood in their way was the solitary figure of Norton. A sane man would not have been there in the first place. A rational man would have tried to reason with them. A moralist would have scolded them. A man as daft as Norton usually seemed would have loudly ordered them to cease and desist in the name of His Royal Imperial authority. All such tacks would probably have been futile, and Norton resorted to none of them.
He simply bowed His head in silent prayer.
The vigilantes dispersed".
And yes it is a true story, despite the apparent weirdnesss of that particular site. Like i said, i could follow such a King anywhere.
It kinda reminds me of this man, still unknown i believe(Although if anyone can put a name to him, i'll be dead chuffed. Names are important:
Ah well, there's so much more for you to find out about this extraordinary character. hope this posting encourages you all to seek him out for yourself.
Norton I, the first and last Emperor of America.
| Omnia Mutantir, Nihil Interit... (With Pumpkin Guest Appearance)
Forgive me if i don't share that latin quote with you.
My folks returned from a holiday to Florida this weekend gone. They brought back many interesting little stories of their holiday, taken with my brother, his wife and my two nieces and nephew. They also brought back a rather virulent virus. And a great deal of unhappiness.
I'm angry. Angry that two elderly people, indeed two of the kindest and most generous people i know, were treated so poorly by their own family. "Class shows" i think it is said, and well, my family ain't got it. I find myself... completely untouched by love for any members of my brothers family, including him. I wouldn't miss any of them if i never saw them again.
So, it's late. I'm angry. My dad's in the next room because he can't sleep. He's sitting there, in his favourite chair. Got his pyjamas on. Poorly and miserable. He looks so very old tonight... i want to sit by him, and tell him how much i love him and mum. I want to tell him how much i'll miss them both when they're gone from my life. I want to tell him how very proud i am to be his son, and about how very grateful i am for all the things they've given me; especially their love. A love that carries on through me and imbues my own words and actions towards others. I wish i had had children sometimes. I probably won't. I dunno... (laughs) well maybe my family would have turned out like my brothers... You never know how good a parent you're gonna be until you actually are one...
No of course i'm not going to go in the next room just now!- He doesn't want someone emotional pestering him when he's just got some flu thing and is trying to kip! I'll do what every Englishmen does, and leave it until it's too late. After all, there's Tradition to follow here. Besides i'm saving up all that "Wracked-by-self-guilt" stuff for a rainy day. Yer shouldn't waste it, yer know!
I wish i felt worth something, that i had something tangible to show for my sorry life. Gawd, i wish i could stop whining. Actually that's just what Pumpkin would say. She'd say:
"Stop that fucking racket, and just do something! Or i'll set the cats on you again!"
She has a special way with words, does Pumpkin.
Most of all i just wish that my dad and my mum were feeling better...
"Omnia mutantir, nihil interit".... yeah, that's true. And you might add to that:
"Only the Phoenix rises and does not descend." And that also is true.
But i hope my folks are given a few years more, yet. Maybe i can yet accomplish something i'm happy about in that time... maybe something good and lasting... Perhaps it all won't have been in vain after all.
9.8.04 | What's In A Name?
Learn interesting things about your name that you would never have hoped to discover. Ever.
Learn them here (Yes all that pretty coloured writing is a link): Click the link. You know you want to. Just do it, ok? Now! Look, if you don't click the link NOW, very cute kittens will be unhappy and not get nice milk, and their sad little "meep?" noises will haunt you for the rest of your life. Click. The. Link. Your continuing reading this only prolongs the agony you know, cos there's nothing else to be gained by reading this spiel. See? You wasted all this time just reading this when you could have save yourself the hassle just by following the instructions i gave you right at the begining of this link-thing. But oh, no, you're too inquisitive, aren't you? You wanna know everything, don't you? no matter how obvious it becomes that i'm just rambling, you will continue to read this right up to the absolute and inevitable and bitter end
in such merry ways i pass the time. Oh Happy days.
Addendum stuff: It has been pointed out to moi that "quizzes" may be not quite to everybody's taste (heheh! yuss, i'm teasing a little). This is just an excuse to add something else...)... so i offer you:
A sad Blob i found somwehere on the internet. You will weep... you will you know... it always makes me think of mah life without mah Pumpkin *sniff*
8.8.04 | Mmm! Mmmmmm! Sensual Taste Sensation Alert!!!
Today, o' lovely and gorgeous reader, and i do mean YOU (And especially you, madame, in that loose and short summery dress, which looks extraordinary when you wear it o-yes!)... (But not you, Carl... you look right rubbish in dresses of any kind)
Today, i have discovered a new and ultra fabulous taste-sensation! And am willing to share it with you for the princely sum of...
Your-undying-gratitude! Or mebbe you could be mah love-slave for the day... (Terms and coditions apply)
Sooo... I share!
Take yummy dark chocolate (It's gotta be dark chocolate, otherwise i mock you without mercy... plus it really does work better than that wussy milk stuff, which only pretends to be chocloate)
Then take yummy cranberry juice (Wossat? you don't like yummy cranberry juice? Do i care? No... now stop interrupting and make way for the yummy alcohol bit).
THEN(!) take yummy gin or maybe yummy vodka (Or perhaps any yummy white spirit?- i dunno i haven't tried any others)
Then, mix yummy cranberry juice and yummy alcohol stuff to taste.
Add yummy straw.
Melt yummy chocolate (DARK! DARK!!!- D'YA HEAR!!!) in mouth and suck other yumminess through straw, thus allowing all ingredients to come together in one mass of ultra-yumminess!
This will make taste buds ecstatic. Party in mouth will ensue, and much pleasure will be felt throughout the evening...
For added fun, bring loved one's tongue into mouth to share in yummy and exotic party atmosphere... Happiness multiplies! Yaay!
Finally, remember to thank The Saturnyne with small gifts and/or sexual favours. (Terms and conditions apply)
I thank you.
PS: for added pleasure you might like to play songs by
Galaxie 500 while you have your yummy mouth party... because they just go sooo well together with liquid sensuality... here's a song i found on the site, a cover of The Sex Pistols "Submission" Yummy Song... lovely guitar stuff! Lovely site! The first musical love of my life! (See previous post... or is it the one before that?)
6.8.04 | Why We Lost The British Empire (An alternate history)
"I say, old chap, you want to talk to an old fella about th' bally old British Empire, eh? Well pull up a chair, bring me glass of brandy, a GENEROUS glass mind, and let me tell yer all about my big game hunting in darkest Africa, with Ginger and Algy.
This was back in the time when men could be real men together, as taught by the finest boarding schools in Oxbridge, yes there was none of this effeminate nancy boy stuff; in those days we toiled and sweated, showered and buggered each other in proper manly fashion, according to Royal tradition. Yess, many's the time Ginge, Algy and i would get th' stirrups and egg-whisk out and-YOU CALL THIS A GLASS?!?! Bring me a PINT glass!!! Ahh... where was i? Oh, yesss...
...And also according to Royal tradition, we partaked of the finest intoxicants known to man, (all illegal now to you girly youngsters, eh?) why i remember how a good soaking in opium led to the finest shoot i've ever been on...
It was one morning, and we'd just bagged a few dozen of the natives, and we were running out of targets, eh. Bloody nuisance, eh... these blighters have got no respect for an Englishmans right to go out and shoot bally well anything he likes...
Well after elevenses, and some more opium (Bes' thing to come out of th' East, in my opinion), we struck out once more into the plains, and there we met the most marvellous sights known to man...
Watermelons. Herds and herds of the blighters, all foraging in the dry grass. What for? Well bloody water, i suppose! don't they teach you youngsters anything at school, boy?
WElllll, after we let rip with the 12bores, they were off, stampeding wildly across the plains, leaping madly in terror as they sough to escape our shot. Heaven help anyone caught in front of a wild herd of watermelon, eh?
What a sight! Just thinkin' about it brings a tear to my eye. I get quite emotional. But NOT IN A NONCY, way, Y' UNDERSTAND?!??! It's all about dignity, you know!
And they were so damned difficult to shoot, one had to run right up to them, practically stare them in the face, before you could be sure of a good shot, they were so agile...
Well, m'deah boy, i think it's time for my afternoon nap... I say, do you think you could loosen this manacle a bit? The chafing you know..."
(well, was that all right Janey? I had to think about that for, oooh, a good ten minutes or so... bloody "hiatus"... grumblegrumble... the cheek!)
4.8.04 | Obituary: (of some dead Jewish guy you've probably never heard of)
You ever heard of Hyam Maccoby?
In fact i'm a wee bit miffed that i only hear about him now he's bleedin' dead. Typical... like the first band i ever fell in love with,
Galaxie 500. I'd just gone and bought their 3rd album This Is Our Music (which, incidentally, is perfect for drinking cocktails to on those warm hazy summer days) when the lead singer upped and split... after i read the news in that weeks Melody Maker i spent the rest of the day getting very, very drunk, writing bad angsty poetry, and ringing around friends for moral suport, and occasionally sobbing into my booze with melodramatic self-pity. That's when not gazing wistfully off into the distance in a fit of Victorian melancholy... (The Victorians used it like a fashion accessory by the way...)
Typical conversation went thus:
Me: They've shplitty!!
Friend: Hello? Who is this?
Me: 'Shme! THeyss Shplitted!
Friend: Are you drunk? Who is this?!?
Me: 'SHME! ShMEEE! Shatt erm erNyNE!
Friend: Who? Do i know you?
Me: Yerssh, but. But! Thash no 'mportan'. NooOOOoo! Th' Glaxxashies, aye meansh th' Galaxiansh have s- shplitted!! 'm inconsholoabel. No wait! thash a arcade gaaam... or di' they'nvade? Gaad, thish pub carpe', is fookin dishgustinn'...
Friend: If this is a prank call i'm gonna call the police, you know!?
Friend: Hello? Hello? (Puts phone down in disgust)
(At this point i had probably taken to re-examining my relationship with gravity, and also the fascinating pattern i had discovered in the pub carpet)
(Of course i HAD to ring him back... several times)
Soo anyway.... where the fuck was i? Oh yeah.
Dead guy. Hyam Maccoby i was reading that in Saturdays Guardian.
I have a lot of doubts about much of modern day religions, but the obit for him, made me think i might be able to refine some of these doubts... i especially liked his thoughts on Christ. Whom i do believe existed, son of God or not.... and to my mind, the first socialist.
I must buy some of this guys works. Immediately... hmm... i wonder of some of my religious friends could be persuaded... naah, they'd kill me! (laughs)
Right that's enough about Dead guys. Worrabout Elvis, eh? He works as a car mechanic dahn the end of my street, y'knaw...
3.8.04 | "Resilient" Is a nice word, wouldn't you say?
flows around and through me
and won't ever let me go...
irridescent perfect waterfalls
of million perfect notes
now tears, around a heart
new filled with wonder
a mind now lost
in a liquid
sound of ecstasy floats
a pleasure by pure
selfless being of alive
- The Saturnyne
I wrote that a very long time ago. Memories of a Jazz concert. Title stolen from an Indie riot grrl song. About being with someone i loved, and still love enormously. And their passion. Someone who has taught me the true meaning of unconditional love, and still has so much to teach me. Dear reader, i have met a great many people in my lifetime, and although i meet fewer now than i would like, i have only ever met one person who has made me think "Wow!- this is a somebody who can change things."
As i write this, a storm rages outside and i long to go walking into it's fury. And like all storms, calm follows. Pumpkin and i have had a tormented few days. But i think we're through it all. My best friend is still my best friend.
Sooo... anything interrestin' happen while i was away? Alien invasion? Presidential assassinaton (I wish)? Happy potato mysteries?