26.9.04 | The Horror In The Castle Kitchen
Gather round, gentle readers, while i recount the night of dreadful terror that befell me recently in my own home... My own home, i say!
A storm is coming. I feel it in my blood. In my bones. I shiver, and wrap my long coat around me tighter pulling the collar up to ward off the worst of the fierce chill winds, that even now are pulling my slender form around. Briefly i gaze up into the night sky, seeking a hope of starlight beyond the gloom of these heavy-laden rainclouds.
I step away from the battlements and gatehouse as the first freezing raindrops bite into my face.
Walking swiftly across the courtyard towards the light of the kitchen, my eyes are drawn to something fluttering 'gainst the kitchen window. Why, 'tis a large Deaths-Head moth. An Acherontia Atropos. It is struggling valiantly with the wind and driving rain. It is dying. Unless... in a burst of sudden sympathy for the creature, i quickly catch it in my cupped hands, struggle awkwardly with the kitchen door and release it onto a nearby cupboard. I am not overly fond of insects in my kitchen at the best of times, especially the fluttery kind, so i am surprised at my charity.
It seems to be resting for the moment. I lean in a little, the more easily to study it's beautiful and fragile wings and body. Gerald (for so i have Christened him. Obvioulsy a "him") warily stares back at this giant of me. I do hope he's sufficiently grateful enough for this sanctuary to not trouble me while i prepare my evening meal (or "Tea" as we Sykers call it).
Gerald-Moth barely moves, while i set about preparing myself a yummy salad. Carrots: check. Onions check. Lettuce and other crap: checky-check. I gingerly pull the carrots out of the fridge, and reach for an onion.
The phone rings.
Distracted, i head into the lounge to answer. Not so distracted that i don't shut the kitchen door to prevent Moth wanderage, though.
It's Pumpkin. We have a brief but lively discussion about what should be done with my body once i'm dead. The conversation ends with me regretfully informing her that she'll have to sort out the pulleys and levers with the taxidermist herself, if that's what she really wants... but more on that another time...
I head back into the kitchen, wondering idly how Gerald is doing..perhaps he's peeling the onion in gratitude for my saving his mothy life... Upon opening the kitchen door though, i immediately sense that there is something terribly wrong.
And then a wave of hatred washes over me, so thick and intense that i am left retching and gasping for breath. Brought to my knees by it's sheer ferocity. Aaaa!
I sense their presence, then. Their malevolent aura, reaching out to consume all life. The warm kitchen air must have roused them. Damn my foolishness. I must think quickly. Or all is lost!
What to do? This is a fine pickle i'm in and no mistake. But luck seems to be with me, for the moment. I am not yet under aerial assault, nor a direct mind onslaught so they must not have yet become aware of me. Making a mental note never to underestimate the forces of darkness again, i settle down and calmly assess the situation.
I need a weapon. If i recall, i'd left a very sharp knife on the worktop. That would do the trick. I risk a glance. Yes! But Nooo!- my enemies ares sitting 'tween me and their destruction and my salvation!
Then i remember Gerald.
"Distract them!" i yell enthusiastically to Gerald, and leap into action.
Pirouetting with the grace and skill you'd only find in an Aardvaark, i dance my way along the kitchen shelves, and somersault perfectly, to land in a twisted heap of cracking bones, erupting fountains of blood and twitching ganglia. Ah, i forgot about the kettle.
Oh, well, but my prize is within reach and i set upon my nemesis with vigour, my blade disdainfully smoking with bloody execution. Singing my battle chant; "Caangechewaddamayed..."
No quarter is asked. None given.
At last i am done. I gaze wearily at the heavily mutilated bodies of my foe. It was a long vicious struggle. Could've gone either way, i think, philosophically.
"Bloody carrots! They're always getting ideas above their station. Hey, Gerald- Ya wanna bit o' carrot?" I bloodily wave a small chunk of very dead carrot at Gerald, who has very nobly not moved an inch during the whole confrontation... now there's a moth who likes to stand his ground...
(look, i was bored, ok?!? i thought it would be fun to write about my heroic confrontation with the carrots. It's not like i haven't warned you about how dangerous they are... you'll thank me one day. No really, you will! I deserve a medal!)
25.9.04 | Youuuu arrrre feeeeling verrr zzzsssleeepyyy
Nyom nyom nyom...
*even more pathetic groan*
Following a long night of trying to add some mods to my blog. And failing. Despite a very generous amount of patience and time from the efervescent Tam (thank-you, dear heart, even though it didn't work, and left me rather despondent for, oooh, half an hour...i at the very least owe you a boon)...
And then not being able to sleep. At all. And then a long day of shopping for food and a bloody mouse for fussy other computer... and then still not being able to sleep... i thought i would finish this elaborated story that i've been working on...
Except. i'm too tired. And irritable. And can't concentrate. Except on bizarre little things, like the fake grain effect on my desk, or patterns in dust motes as they float in front of my screen.
So i'm just gonna sit here. And wait for inspiration. Or sleep. Or anything... anything at all...
Did i tell anyone i wear mocassins and a kimono when lounging around the house? No? Ah well, there you go...
23.9.04 | Her
May 6th 1991
Running spinning haywire
Early morning drinking tea
On a garden bench; dew
Upon the grass (and i'm
So tired) catching blossom
From trees!- white and pink.
To be children again.
The moment is lost
In shivers; step into
Sunlight and warmth
And watch you
Chasing and laughing
Together, yet apart
From me. In love,
But only with love
In the noon-time
when you sleep
I touch your face,
Bid you farewell
And i am gone.
Of a morning
In the spring sun
-The Saturnyne. (May 1991)
three there were. two remain. one picture only.
21.9.04 | Sex Test! (100% accuracy guaranteed)
...Unless your name begins with a "C" and then unfortunately you need the "What Root Vegetable Am I? " quiz.
... i did have to take it a few times... just to be sure... i guess it's only about 33% accurate if you're a Saturnyne...
Us Saturnynes are a strange breed, y'see... not of this Earth... WE make love through bold use of tentacles and spores...
So far i have fathered many perennials at garden centres, and "had" the odd squid off the South coast... just hope the Child Benefit Agency don't come knocking... it'll all get very complicated...
"proper" post due soon as i get my otherpc sorted... it's being a bastard, an' i've given it a good talking to...
14.9.04 | Things i Nicked From Singlefin (part 1)
|[ series 1 ]|
|Birthday||9th of May sometime A.D... despite what Tam says... hee!|
|Birthplace||My bedroom. My home. Harle Syke|
|Current Location||My Lounge|
|Hair Color||Dark Brown|
|Righty or Lefty||Amby|
|Font||Sage or Tengwar|
|[ series 2 - your favorite ]|
|Music||Indie (see profile for specifics)|
|Cartoon||Will o' the Wisp|
|Color||Rust (and black if we're not being pedantic)|
|Car||I walk... wouldn't mind a moped or a Vincent Black Lightning though...|
|Song at the Moment||NYC by Interpol; (and then) ; Desolate Vision by The Latecomers|
|Language||Poetically licensed English|
|Spice Girl||Any. Do i get a choice of weapon?|
|Food & Beverage||Omelette and a nice salad|
|Subject in School||Avoidance|
|Weekend Activity||Meeting Pumpkin for coffee|
|Frozen Yogurt||Never tried it|
|Roller Coaster||Aah! Ah! ah! Aaaaarrrrghhhhh... etc. ...AAAaaaaarghhhhhhhh!!!|
|[ series 3 - what is ]|
|Your most overused phrase||Bollocks! Fuck! Wankaah! Arse! Arsy Bollocks! Bollocks!|
|First thing you thought when you woke up||Bollocks!|
|Last image/thought you go to sleep with||Bollocks! erm... NOT an image.|
|First feature you notice of opposite sex||eyes. then lips. then an all over job (viewing) with outright lechery.|
|Best name for a Butler||Wank. Or Lucy.|
|Wussiest Sport||For me. Sport is all about failure to get picked at school games. Especially when one scores nine goals the previous week. Fuck sport!|
|Your best feature||Physical; my eyes. Mental: my sense of humour|
|Your greatest fear||Losing Pumpkin and growing old alone.|
|Your greatest accomplishment||loyalty and love in the face of adversity|
|Your most missed memory||sitting on a garden bench somewhere on May 6th 1991 (d'ya wanna see th' poem?)|
|[ series 4 - you prefer ]|
|Pepsi or Coke||Argh! Fizzy drinks! Avoid! Avoid!|
|McDonald's or Burger King||See Spice Girls question above|
|Single or Group Dates||single|
|Adidas or Nike||gimme sneaker pump type things any day|
|Chicken nuggets or Chicken fingers||nope. don't think so.|
|Dogs or Cats||cats. CATS! Caaats!|
|Rugrats or Doug||what a bollocks question!!!|
|Single or Taken||tricky question that sometimes... but single|
|Monica or Brandy||umm... Barman, mine's a double Monica! Nah, brandy.|
|Tupac or Jay-Z||Tupacs already dead, isn't he? So Jay-Z... with ambient muzak through heart|
|Shania Twain or LeAnn Rhymes||i'll do 'em both for ya. Laser scoped rifle ok with ya?|
|Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea||This is England! We'll have none of that foreign stuff here, thank-you!|
|One pillow or Two||two. or one. mebbe none.|
|Chocolate or Vanilla||choccie|
|Hot chocolate or Hot cocoa||mmm... tricky one... can i have both?|
|Cappucino or Coffee||coffee|
|[ series 5 - do you ]|
|Have a crush||yeah... millions|
|Think you've been in love||i KNOW i have. So feck off with yr smarmy question|
|Want to go to college||not again... but then i DO wanna learn Spanish|
|Like high school||fuck right off!|
|Want to get married||oh yes.|
|Believe in yourself||no|
|Have any tattoos? Where||yeah, on me knuckles i have "Left" and "Righ"|
|Have any piercings? Where||well once i had a sharp fragment of glass thrust rather hard into my right eye. Ansd also... mmm, no i don't think i'll talk about the other incident...|
|Get motion sickness||depends if i've eaten or not... if i haven't, then yeah|
|Think you're a health freak||no. yes. no|
|Get along with your parents||yes. no. yes, i love them|
|Like thunderstorms||Yes. And Thor is a neighbour. (true!)(No-really!)|
|[ series 6 - the future ]|
|Age your plan to be married||any|
|Number and names of children||Elanor, Melicent (Of course they're gonna be girls! Haven't you seen what little shits the boys are!)|
|Where will you be at age 20||nowhere. nowhere at all|
|Dream wedding||my local church. Then down to Singlefins favourite beach for some beach fun. Heyyy, Dude!|
|How do you want to die||i don't care. i just want it to have some meaning to someone|
|Dream job||photographer of artistically posed naked women|
|Country you'd like to visit||New Zealand. Canada. Iceland. in random order|
|[ series 7 - opposite sex ]|
|Best eye color||don't care|
|Best hair color||still don't care|
|Short or long hair||nope. not caring|
|Best height||equal to or shorter than me|
|Best weight||around mine... i'm around ten stone (and please don't ask what a "stone" is. Ok it's a dozen pebbles)|
|Best clothes||whatever she's happy with. i only care about the person wearing them|
|Best first date location||anywhere. If it's right we'll make our own entertainment|
|Best first kiss location||oooh! (Wicked grin.)|
|[ series 8 - other ]|
|Last time you slept with a stuffed animal||peversions? With stuffed animals? Good idea!|
|Rings before you answer the phone||anything under 5 (If i were you, i'd not let it ring beyond 5. Trust me on this...)|
|What's on your mousepad||No mousey mat here! We use mind control and sweetie prompts|
|How many houses you've lived in||What do you mean by "lived"? Exactly?|
|How many schools you've gone to||What do you mean by "gone to"? Exactly?|
|Bedroom carpet color||black. mainly|
|Shave your head for $5,000?||no problemo. i'll shave everything for that amount! Bring me that expensive camera NOW!|
|Stranded on a desert island. Take three things. No people||The Biography of Manuel by James Branch Cabell (i'm cheating here). A solar pwered ipod full of all my albums. Solar powered laptop with internet connection|
|Best time of your life so far||Bulgaria; Pumpkin-Time =]|
11.9.04 | The Proms (The Last Night)
Watching the telly earlier, and happened upon the BBC's "Last Night Of The Prom's", live from The Royal Albert Arse. Jaw dropping stuff.
"The Proms" for all foreign readers of this blog, is a season of classical music, run by the BBC, that lasts for several weeks, and culminates in an evening of rounding up all the inbred abominations of the upper and middle classes and letting them out of the secret castle rooms of shame for the evening, so they can watch an orchestra playing all the classical "hits"... or something like that...
Haven't seen so many inbred toffs and inbred wannabe toffs all in the same place together, in like, well it must be exactly a year...
And why are they all bobbing up and down? Why? Why? In God's name, Why? It seems to me, that not only have they been shagging their nearest and dearest, but that somehow, they've been doin' the rounds in the local seabird colonies, too! Ye've surely seen the wildlife prog's, where David Attenborough whispers cheerfully along the excreta strewn clifftops, surrounded by mad Gannets ritually bobbing and waving their beaks to each other as they take turns feeding their chicks vomit, right? (With a straight face, too. A-mazing guy!)
just less vomming. Or maybe more. I dunno... there did seem to be a few lush people there (Lush= drunkard... also name of fab indie band from several years ago). Alas that they didn't show any of that... i definitely think it would be worth the license fee to see all these middle and upper classes vomming rhythmically into their childrens upturned, expectant and greedy faces! Oyes!
And bobbing! Skillfully out of time to the music!
Can't wait for the next one.
Only 364 days to go...
| Regal Pussy. (chillin' by the fire)
Charlotte taken with 3200 speed film
She's small an' cute an' well 'ard!
| Mad Pussy Luxuriating
Prudence ...using a Canon EOS5 slr
She likes rubbing up against things... or did when she was alive... *sigh*
Check those teeth out! Barmy cat!
| Noble And Heroic Pussy
Jude ...and also developed by Yours Truly
Jude. Twin brother of Prudence. See the heroic pose... He knows how to present his best side to the camera, does Jude. The only cat i am aware of who catches bats... unique technique, too... runs up tree with snoozing bat in... runs along branch with blissfully unaware and chillin' out bat "safely" tucked underneath. Drops off branch and grabs bat on the way past... cue much unhappiness on bat's part...
Gettin' on a bit now. All cats owned by wonderful friend Lian... along with five others... dunno how she does it! All that AND coping with useless-round-the-house-boyfriend!
The Saturnyne is blessed with many wonderful friends, he thinks. Amazing, really, when you consider what a pain in the arse he is... frequently...
7.9.04 | My Band Tours- Go See Them...
... Or i'll fucking kill you!
Ok... mebbe i won't...
Actually i won't have to, because if you ever missed them, and then one day realised that what you'd missed was the most astonishing and moving performance of your worthless and meaningless existence, then you'd kill yerself anyway. I promise.
Of course i'm talking about American Music Club, here. If you're a regular reader of my site, then you'll remember my previous post...
Reasons to love A.M.C.
1. Their singer and songwriter, Mark Eitzel. Here is a man who encapsulates all human love and joy and suffering. This is a man who has actually lived his songs. And during gigs he plays them out for you. This man has actually bled onstage for his performance, and he didn't even notice! I watched him practically destroy his voice for his audience one night, when he was suffering from a severe throat infection. We the audience wept with rapture at the beauty he created for us. And then he apologised. for not singing so well. He's a fucking god amongst men. He doesn't have just one muse- he has ALL of them!
2. They sound like all of your favourite bands ever. And none of them at all. Using every music genre available, from blues to jazz to rock to everything... and they still have their own sound.
3. Who else could write a desolate lovesong song with a title like "What Godzilla Said To God When His Name Wasn't Found In The Book Of Life"? Eh? No-one!
4. ditto: Johnny Mathis' Feet
5.ditto: the self-effacing In My Role as the Most Hated Singer in the Local Underground Music Scene.
6. And who else could have the skill to use a chorus like this:
"The world is held together by the wind
That blows through Gena Rowland's hair".
and make it just about one of the most aching laments to love that you've ever heard?
7. Sample song lyrics: A song from their new album. Loss and dying love has never sounded so profound, or so painful... if you actually go out and buy the new album, called "Love Songs For Patriots" and actually listen to it then you'll understand that these mere words cannot convey the beauty of it...
I left my room in the evening
It was freezing, a sidewalk shining
But it was okay - I wasn't lonely
I wasn't no one, I was just hoping
for a bookstore, like the one I prayed for
and the music they'd play there
would be Dinosaur Jr.
and the people who worked there
would be super skinny
and super unfriendly -
and that would make me happy
That would make me happy
And what really kills me, is I'm only lonely
when I talk to you, yeah I should have told you
I just can't handle, your endless sorrow
All I wanted from you
was some tomorrow
But it's okay - I'll find a bookstore
and buy Saul Bellow
and one about old ruins
for my mother, You never met her -
she liked Manhattans.
they taste like mouthwash
she understood how to be
alone, all alone
Maybe the worst is over
Maybe the worst is over
Maybe the worst is over
Maybe the worst is over
I left my room in the evening
The sun had just gone down,
but the sky was still shining
and not even the stars out,
up in their heaven
could throw their ashes
on the blue still burning
over this ugly city -
and that makes me happy
and that makes me happy
and that makes me happy
that makes me happy.
8. i have just been given this news by their management:
"Love Songs For Patriots" has just been released in the UK and Europe by Cooking Vinyl - So far the response has been overwhelming; 5 star/Album of the Month in Uncut, 4 Stars in German Rolling Stone, 4 stars in The Guardian, 9 out of 10 in TNT, 8 out of 10 in Classic Rock. I guess you can say the critics like it?"
9. Look, just fecking go out and buy the damn thing, ok? And then check out their website and see if they're touring near you... i am also reliably informed that they're touring in the U.K. later in the year too...
10. And if having bought it, you find that you don't like it, don't come whining to me because you have a small pebble for a heart!
11. Um, you don't think that was too passionate a list, do you? Didn't go over the top, did i?
(grins embarrasedly). Well they are my band. An' i love 'em with all my band-lovin' heart. More importantly, i wanna share that with you who read this misbegotten website.
12.Take care. One and all. The Saturnyne loves you too, in his way.
| "Harle What?" "Harle Where?" Harle Syke Dammit!
(Free stalking map included with this post! Yaay!)
Never heard of Harle Syke, have you? Think it's a mythical place, somewhat akin to Atlantis or Camelot or Milton Keynes, perhaps?
Well th' Saturnyne will explode this mythery and ignorance of his home right in yer face, rather like the "money shot" in a top porn film. And he will show you where he lives, an' mebbe not in this post, but certainly in future posts he will expound on the heritage and culture of his little part of the world... with as straight a face as possible...
I live in the county of Lancashire, in the North West of England.
Here's another lovely map, if you look a little north of the city of Manchester you will see the milltown of Burnley. I live in a village suburb of Burnley. Well, when i say "live" i really mean erm "exist"... in the vaguest possible sense...
Here's a funky aerial view map of Harle Syke. It zooms in and out in a most saucy fashion. (If the map doesn't work for you it's probably because of... er, technical stuff). Map map map!
(This last map seems to work and then not work.. sometimes saying that "there are no aerial photographs of this area"... but it lies. It Lies! Or mebbe not, as looking at the map it seems to be in the middle of the Atlantic or something. Ok. Try this: Maaaaap! and ignore the redcircle, because it's sooo wrong. Bloody map-maakers!)
Notice the pleasant greenery and nice little river running along the bottom. My castle is situated somewhere near the centre near the church and the mill. The Saturnyne spent a very pleasant childhood in all these places. Ahhh, One reminisces even now...
Secondly... ah... well there is no secondly... mainly because it's past my bedtime, and mainly, all i really wanted to do was show that last funky map.
So proof that Harle Syke really exists... unless i made all these webpages up in a gigantic hoax...
PS: shame on you for clicking on that money shot expecting who-knows-what-kind-of-sleaze?!?! You pervert! You wait 'til i tell your mum! This is a nice decent website. We'll have no shim-sham here, thank you very much!
3.9.04 | Rose For a Lady (Who?)
The Saturnyne's Rose