30.10.04 | Conversations With My Pumpkin (Part 6: How Positive Vibes Really Work. As Revealed By The Saturnyne)
Special Halloween Conversation for your delectation and delight! On this Day of The Dead, when the year too dies (If yer still a follower of the old traditions).
So gather ye closely, good reader, but not too closely!- In case ye too suffer the terrible horrors that lurk just under the slender surface membrane of the Saturnyne's Miiiind...
"...So, yes. to answer your question, i HAVE had a terrible day, and am feeling really down. And i'm sorry for biting your head off earlier."
No you haven't just arrived in the middle of a post-slaughter cannibal apocalypse with undertones of guilty angst. It's merely a depresssed Pumpkin apologizing on the phone for having to put up with my mind-bending wit. Which if truth be told, No-one should have to apologize for. Except me of course. So Pumpkin must really be feeling low.
(Shall i try and cheer her up, gentle reader? But of course i shall!)
"Awww, mah poor Sweetie! Ahm so sorry yer 'avin' a bad day. I know!- i shall enlist the aid of some Positive Vibes and send them over to aid you in your time of crisis."
And i wait for the penny to drop, as it will shortly, once Pumpkin has had time to reflect on my words. She is very smart, you know.
Interlude: Positive Vibes As Defined In 'The Saturnyne's Handy-Dandy Tome of Ye Alle Knowledge'
Positive Vibes: Or P.V's, are tiny round creatures, measuring between 1 and 2 centimetres in diameter, predominantly a bright orange colour, but specimens have been found in shades of every colour of the visible spectrum. The colours though, are always rich and vibrant. As is their demeanour. Sometimes irritatingly so. For they are nearly always bright, cheery and breezy. This is as equally apparent in their little smiley faces, as it is in their language. Curiously, though, they are also capable of turning instantly invisible, which they will do on appropriate occasions, for though annoying at times, they are kindly generous creatures with true hearts of gold.
They communicate in high pitched squeaky voices, perhaps how one imagines cartoon mice would sound. And use a language rich in happy platitudes and/or proverbs.
Eating: P.V's will eat anything you offer them with undisguised glee. Although they are most fond of soups, and tomato soup in particular. Which they like to swim in also, bobbing around and splashing each other for hours at a time. Also using discarded cutlery as a miniature diving board.
Lifespan: The truly amazing thing about P.V's is that they're totally indestructible and have a lifespan of millions of years, even without tomato soup. It has yet to be ascertained how they breed, or indeed, if they breed at all. (WARNING FOR SOUP LOVERS: Check yer soup beforehand, when consuming in areas frequented by Positive Vibes, as accidentally swallowing any can lead to sleepless nights, due to them holding parties and frolicking in yer stomach, which to them, is like a big indie disco. Eventually, though, they get bored and leave, finally allowing you a pleasant night's sleep, uninterrupted by squeaky singing and Dinosaur Jr songs etc.)
Habitat: So far, the only known sightings have been in the vicinity of The Saturnyne, whom they regard as their bestest friend and ally and also "Tomato Soup Provider Supreme." Occasionally though, he asks them to undertake missions to the unhappy and sad and despondent of the world... Where they arrive with a cheeky knock on the door, before bouncing playfully between the legs of the door opener and into the nearest kitchen, where they enquire after the possibility of soup (tomato first) in their squeaky voices.
Interlude Ends.
"Oh thank you Pleb-Boy. You're so very sweet someti- Wait a minute! What do you mean by "enlist the aid of"???"
So i tell her.
And she laughs.
11 comments :.
27.10.04 | John Peel (1939-2004)
Did you ever have a really cool uncle? One of those with the kind of record collections that pissed all over yours from a great height? And yet was totally unpretentious and charming and modest at the same time? One who would always have time for you?
John Peel, the Radio 1 disc-jockey, who has died today, aged 65, was invariably such a man.
Every student here in the U.K., from the 60's to the present day, has at least once been sitting by their radio in the evening, saying "What the fuck?", and "That was brilliant!" Or even pogoed around the room, or perhaps merely let their mouths hang open in gobsmacked amazement at the total diamonds he'd ever-so-dryly introduce to us. THen we might equally cover our ears as he'd play something almost unlistenable by the likes of Extreme Noise Terror (Mercifully short songs, those), but, we'd listen all the harder to those it was challenging to love, because, well, if He saw something good in them, we'd be ashamed and mortified to be missing out on what might be something really cool.
He was probably more than responsible for bringing to the worlds attention, the likes of The Pixies, The Smiths, The Cure, Joy Division, Cocteau Twins, Cranes and My Bloody Valentine. He was a massive champion of The Fall and The Wedding Present. But always the newcomers.
Two things that always stressed him out about being a DJ: One, he was always worried about his responsibility to all the bands that sent him demo-tapes (From around the world. And he listened to every demo he could). And two, he was afraid of missing something fabulous amongst the hundreds of hopeful parcels he received every week. A fanatic. You could tell.
He was responsible for two of my most cherished musical moments ever from a radio.
1. Hearing Birthday by The Sugacubes. A song so beautiful it still brings tears to my eyes. (i know, i know. I'm a big wuss.)
2. Driving back from Blackpool with a bunch of friends at the age of 18 or so, and excitedly telling everyone that the that the next song must be Waiting For Mary by Pere Ubu. And it was! It fucking was!!! My friends couldn't believe it. I don't know how i knew that it was gonna be the next song. But i was absolutely certain. I think it was around then that i noticed all the very strange coincidences that occurred in my life with disturbing frequency...
John Peel. We loved ya much much more than Princess Di, we indie kids.
Rest In Peace, Uncle John.
God bless.
From The Saturnyne.
(With tear-stained face, and aching heart)
Articles and obituaries
From The BBC
From The Guardian
From The NME
BBC Obituary
Guardian Obituary
NME Obituary
Damn! Who're we gonna listen to now?!!?
7 comments :.
Aiden Truss hollered thusly:
Amen to that!
The world will be a poorer place without him...
:(
SingleFin hollered thusly:
I've half a mind to destroy my radio. Nothing will ever be half as much worth listening to ever again.
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
i know what ya mean. And it really sticks in the throat that we have national days of mourning for parasitical royals, and yet this charming man, doesn't even get a front page mention in The Daily Mirror etc
Mind you, the broadsheets certainly did him justice.
And stll we have the likes of Tony Blackburn and Mike Reid. Makes ya puke. It's an unfair world.
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
You are such a beautiful person. I love this post. Better than any article out there, I bet.
Starbuck hollered thusly:
Never has a man who's fluffed so many changes of record made such perfect radio.
The occasions when he put stuff on at the wrong speed, only to keep it that way 'cos it still sounded wicked, were truly priceless.
He will be much missed.
stella hollered thusly:
awwww...long live the peel sessions
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Hey there, Stella. I was just wondering whereabouts i'd put yer webpage in my faves folder. Ye've saved me a whole lot of looking. =]
And Thanks Cece. I don't feel particularly beautiful. But i think we all have a moment of beauty within us somewhere. So i guess i have potential...
(Big grin).
And hey, to the rest o' you fellas. 'tis good to know that my grief is shared somewhat. Never thought i'd weep for a celebrity, until this week. Don't see myself grieving for any others, though... they just don't have that connection. That humility. That honesty.
Ah well, soon be time for putting my grieving away. That last goodbye. Then time to move on.
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25.10.04 | Ah, More Stuff I've Nicked From People
Saw this first on Tam's and Jessie's blogs, they saw it on someone else's, and someone else saw it on another someone else's. Like i'm gonna track back through half a million blogs until i find the original source. Even if i don't have a life, i need to pretend i have!
First, Last And Now Blah.
First
- First job: Washing dishes for a wedding reception. 200 of everything! Took hours! Thank god for dishwashers! But it was kinda fun. Was invited back in the evening to collect glasses in the Townies nightclub on the floor below. That was even more fun. I became a glass collector extraordinaire, PLUS, being incredibly poilte, i was able to stamp on the feet (Oh yes, of course it was all an accident) of all the dancing townie scum, apologize, and get away with it. Now there's a talent for ya.
- First screen name: Like a film star? The Saturnyne. Have been for years.
- First funeral: My Grandfathers. Everyone wept. But not I. I was numb inside.
- First pet: 'twas probably a budgerigar called Peter. We had several, 18, i think, one after the other. All called Peter. Many died in unfortunate circumstances. Eg; accidentally rolled on by father, necked in the door. None, however were as dreadful as the one i read about in the paper the other day. A poor budgie-bird got entangled in net curtains, so some kindly aunt grabbed a pair of scissors to cut it free. Alas, she cut the poor birds feet off in the process, leaving the little fella to fly around the room in circles until dropping to the carpet dead with exhaustion.
- First piercing: Haven't i answered this one before? 21. Shards of broken glass straight into right eye. Avoided piercings after that. Also avoided drunken youths with attitude problems whose idea of a birthday celebration is to beat the crap outta everyone in sight.
- First tattoo: No tattoos. No piercings. No body art things whatsoever. Am perfect enough.
- First credit card: Never owned a credit card. Should get one, i know. The internets so cheap these days.
- First kiss: Burnley bus station. Girl called Anne. I was 18, and thus a late developer, i guess. Fantastic kiss. Lasted ages. Full on tongue action. I was great! She was impressed! But then i'd been imagining the act for ages. Plus watching the experienced peeps really helps, ya know. She dumped me six weeks later, an' started going back out with her ex. I recovered in the arms of a 30 year old mother of 3. Regrets- i've had a few...
- First enemy: Dead. All dead. Of course, I never touched them, an' was probably hanging out with several alibis, all of whom can vouch for my exemplary character, and love of kittens.
Last
- Last car ride: Taxi on the way back from the cinema with Pumpkin. Went ta see "Hero". More on that in another post though.
- Last kiss: Hug anna platonic peck from Pumpkin. Last full-on snog was quite some time ago and happened in bizarre circumstances, that i have hinted slightly at on Singlefins and B's blogs. It was a racy, but eventually depressing evening. I won't be blogging about it, but anyone who wants ta know the sordid and yet amusing details, is free to email me... first one to do so can request a topic for a future blog. Don't all rush now! Oh. You didn't...
- Last movie watched: At the cinema, it was obviously Hero. If i was to blog this in a couple of days time, then it'd be either The Motorcycle Diaries, or a dvd ahm currently looking at on me desk called The Warrior, which is supposed to be splendid.
- Last beverage drank: Pure orange juice. Am really into drinking that at the moment. Otherwise it's wine. Red wine.
- Last food consumed: My very last Waifa bar ever. Plain choccy obviously. Am reliably informed that Terry's have stopped making them! I am AGHAST! I am MORTIFIED! not to mention DESPONDENT! I've been eating one with a glass of milk every sunday for the past million years or so. Kit Kats are rubbish by comparison, and just don't go with my sunday newspaper. If any of you come across any of these yummy things in the shops, i heartily suggest treating yerselves. Better still, i heartily suggest sending them to me for, ah, conservation purposes.
- Last phone call: Made: The bloody dentist, for more dentist traumery! Oh how i love to suffer... Received: Pumpkin, telling me what a great day she had. BAh!
- Last time showered: Always after breakfast. I won't go out unless i can have a nice shower. I feel all yechhy otherwise.
- Last CD played: A little known Irish band called The Latecomers. Album called That's All From Memory Lane.
- Last website visited: Any one of you lot. Or mebbe something with nekkidness on display... who knows...
Now
- Single or taken: Single. Take me! Take me now! Actually, don't! You'd only regret it. Am really quite a challenge. Wouldn't want you to suffer.
- Gender: I like the fact that this comes under the "Now" category... like i might've been something else before. Male... with female tendencies an' attitudes. Probably.
- Birthday: Hah! I was never born! You can't prove it!
- Sign: Usually an in yer face "V" sign. Oh all right, you Zodiac fetishists, i'm a Taurus
- Siblings: Older brother. Apparently, i'm the "Quiet One".
- Hair color: Blackish-brown, withsilver streaks that catch the light just so.
- Eye color: Hazel. Bloodshot.
- Shoe size: 8 and a half. Or 43 if yer continental.
- Height: Somewhere between 5'7" and 5'9". I've never measured it exactly.
- Wearing: Black kimono, with tacky silver dragon pattern, black levi's, black pullover, mocassins (guess what colour), pentagram, eye-shadow... ok, mebbe not any eye-shadow today, but if it was, it'd be blue or black, to go with the lippy. Actually, i think i'm too old for da lippy now, so it'd be just eye-shadow. I do get very stained lips from all that red wine, though.
- Drinking: Coffee. Strong. Touch o' milk. 1 sugar (unless i'm being awkward, then it's half.)
- Thinking about: Escape. Freedom. Anger. Willpower. Sex. Love. Sleep. Loss. Strength. Beauty. Compassion. Sorrow. Dreams. Living.
- Listening to: The quiet hum of my pc's fans. The wind and rain creating a symphony outside. My breath; the silence at the centre of the storm.
2 comments :.
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
ooh! That was neato. I may try that out myself!
Jessie hollered thusly:
I totally didn't pick up on that gender thing being under 'now', even when my friend Marilyn sent me her list stating "female (always have been)".
Taureans are so cool.
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| What Does A Harle Syker Sound Like? (The Saturnyne Points The Way)
Many of you have been wondering, subtly and subconsciously, i know, what folks sound like in my part of the world. So i've been racking my humble brain, in an attempt to show you. And last night, while carousing through my vast library (all three bookshelves) i found a solution.
Step forward, the late Mr R.D. Kippax. Friend and fellow bowler probably (Like I can remember that far back) of The Saturnynes equally late and wonderful Grandfather (On his mothers side). Also a very well respected and known local poet...
(Yeah, i know he can't very easily step forward, what with being quite dead for probably longer than some of you have been alive, but perhaps we could fit his urn or coffin with some nice shiny wheels so he can roll forward instead. With a cheerful helping shove. Where was i? oh yeah...)
Taken from the now out of print: 'Th'owd Syker Looks At Life'
Aggate 'Airse O Lords
Th' Airse o' Lords up th' Aggate wer i' session,
His Lordship frae t' Valley i' t' chair,
Not a vacant seat i' the bairlairse,
Expectancy rife i' the air.
New rise i' t' rates for discussion,
On the agenda, the cairncil flats, too
But they first hed to discuss pollution-
Ther' wer a horrible smell blowing thru.
The Speaker said "This pugent aroma,
What is it that's causing this smell?"
But when t' greenkeeper came into t' bairlairse,
It were him it were easy to tell.
He said "Ahm mixing a tonic, airt ut back ere
An ahm bairn spreard it airt on ter green.
It's some boorns, some dried blood an' some potash
Wi' some Epsom Salts mixed in between."
He put all ut he'd mixed in a spreader,
An he scattered weer we could see,
Mixed wi' stuff he called organic matter,
Which mearns 'orsemuck to yo and to me.
We doornt know what that tonic were meant for,
Whether for t' worms, or for t' soil, or for t' grass,
But them worms nair are fierce and ferocious,
And the birds 'ev departed en masse.
First coom a seagull frae Blackpool,
Gliding gracefully dairn on' ter green,
It took off a blooming seet faster,
An' were o'er Ireland when last it were seen.
It' really bin ard ont' er th' insects,
It's performed such a lot o' queer tricks,
The centipede or hundred legs as we called it,
Alas now it has niney six.
The daddy long legs, which kids loved to capture,
At times it could move very quick,
It's nair in a state of enrapture,
An' it moves wi a hop an a kick.
The caterpillar is 'evving convulsions,
Which mearns ut it's gettin it worse,
It can nobbut move backwards and sideways,
It's gears ev getten stuck i' reverse.
The leatherjackets, alas are in tatters,
Wireworms are hiding i' t' cracks,
An' cockroaches are suffering frae hiccups,
They'e surrendered and are laid on their backs.
This tonic is quite omnipotent,
They say it'll go worse when it rains,
So yo Sykers yerd better be wary,
Nobody knows what'l come airt o' yon drains.
-R.D. Kippax (R.I.P.)
So, there yer have it. Yer now have a bit of an idea what a "Syker" sounds like. Alas, that there are so few of us left. But that's the way of the world, old customs and ways die out, they give way to the new. One may as well try and push back the sea, like old King Canute, for all the good it does in resisting change. I shall try and hold my memories of what this old Lancashire village was once like though, and perhaps when i too am old and forgetful, these memories, and the memories of my Pumpkin will stay with me and see me through to that final exhale of breath.
Goodnight, gentle reader.
S.
7 comments :.
b hollered thusly:
oh, dear, i know exactly what you mean about resisting change. every time i go back home to birmingham (alabama, that is), i see so many things changed as far as the landscape- new buildings where there once was trees, new roads, new homes, etc.
ofcourse the changes are not simply related to places, but to people as well. for instance, looking in the mirror, i have these new 'golden' strands of hair on my head. i know these strands will eventually turn gray, and then silvery white. a couple of them already have.
it is useless to resist change, altho, in a way, it is sad to be so resigned to it.
b hollered thusly:
and, yes, i do believe that somewhere in my subconcious i was wondering what a 'syker' sounds like.
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
aye, i know what yer mean. I'm always drifting between resisting, with loud warcry (Usually sounds like "Bollocks!") and accepting. With weary shrug and sigh.
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
um, if any of you foreigners (meaning aanyone NOT living in Harle Syke) needs a translation, please feel free to ask.
I might even reply without talking crap.
Nah, i'll talk crap.
lynda brendish hollered thusly:
Well. I'm all for resisting change and ranting against the younger generation. I'm getting in plenty of practice when I'm an old grandma scaring kiddies away.
Anyway - I updated my blog with a link to yours. finally. I hope this makes you feel a wee bit better without the tam-love :)
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Yeah! THass great. Am totally cheered up now! ... and ye've reminded me. I need to update my own to include yours, if i haven't done already. Plus several others.
I've been kinda amused, that... a healthy percentage of the bloggers i like have N.Z. connections. I have more N.Z. blog chums than i have U.K. ones.
Having written this, i am now gonna realize that i've somehow confused you with someone altogether different, and in half an hour (2am) will have to come back and add another post just to clarify things, an' THEN i'll realize that, no, i was right in the first place...
lynda brendish hollered thusly:
No. you were correct in the first place. 'tis, I - rraaarr. I just go by the entirely original "me" on blogger comments for some reason.
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22.10.04 | Conversations With My Pumpkin (Pt.5. Interior Cadaver Wiring)
Ah, the continuing sage of The Saturnyne and his Pumpkin. Newcomers may be wanting to catch up on previous conversations, so here they are for your delectation and delight:
pt1
pt2
pt3
pt4
(Extra information. Pumpkin and i have been best friends for over 15 years, i think... although she didn't realize this at first. It took a lot of persistent stalking on my part to convince her that, yes, she did indeed need me and sadly, couldn't live without my charming companionship. We were a couple for a little while during that time, until she realized that her one true love was Colin Firth playing Mr. Darcy. It may also have had something to do with me being a useless tosser, but we'll skip lightly over that small detail... after all, if George and Tony can do it, why can't i? Still... She's only one of two people that i have ever considered marrying. We may not be a couple, but i love and adore her immensely.)
now read on, o' marvellous ones!
"...so i'd thought about having you stuffed with the help of a taxidermist and put in a corner of the room"
(Ah that's my Pumpkin. She can't bear to be without me. She really does love me!)
"But of course, Orangy-Light-Of-My-Life! Anything for youuu."
"And if at some point you could do some cd recordings of your voice, that would be really helpful."
"Oh? How so, my Little Fruitiness?"
"Well i thought i could have you wired with little speakers and a remote control unit. Bung a cd player or something inside, to play your voice and have some wheels and pulleys for movement. Nothing sophisticated... i wouldn't want you behaving unnaturally. Just enough for some simple movements
But i did think it would be nice if i could get you to wave at me occasionally, or do that eye-rolling and eyebrow wagging thing that makes me laugh sometimes. Oh!- And that grin that scares people. That'd come in very handy in case of burglars."
"And what would you have me say, O' Darling Globe of Joy? Something wise and profound no doubt. Perhaps some Shakespearian quotations?- A poetry recital?!?!"
"I don't think so. No. Just the usual bollocks that you seem so capable of uttering on a day to day basis...
(See aforementioned Conversations. Particularly no. 3 for classic examples of The Saturnynes WIT and SOPHISTICATION)
"...And if you continue to call me your 'Darling Globe of Joy' etc. in this conversation or any other time, you may find yourself stuck in the corner sooner than you'd appreciate."
"Awwwww!!!!"
"Shut it, Pleb-Boy. Now, do ya want to give me a date for when you'll be done?"
"!"
"The recordings you idiot! Annoying as you are, i still love you too much to get rid of you on a silly whim...
(Phew!)
"...Besides, i havent yet told the taxidermist what i want you stuffed with... i did think lavender. After all, then you'd smell sweeter in death than in life..."
(Hey neat idea! Suddenly i like the whole shebang and start enthusing)
"Or what about Helium? I remember this great Eddie Izzard moment, where he was imagining all these smiling cats stuffed with helium, on a string, like balloons!!!"
"Yeah, and i could replace your voice cd, and put some music on whenever i get tired of you speaking, which would be often... Your mouth could open, and the cd would slide out..."
...and there we shall leave it for the present, dear reader... although i might add a special Halloween Pumpkin Conversation on the 31st. Just for you. Oh how lucky you are.
Quote: Getting married is a lot like dying. You don't worry about it much until people start discussing the actual date...
(Well i think it went something like that...)
Actually, on reflection, i have a better one: Love is like a garden shed; If you eat it, it'll stick in yer throat.
S.
8 comments :.
Jessie hollered thusly:
I think I'd better have a quiet word with your Pumpkin. Perhaps she isn't aware that Colin-Firth-as-Mr-Darcy is in fact mine, all mine. (I hope you showed her the hot pic of him in the 'yard)
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Hah! I was just re-editing while you posted.
And she might consent to allowing you visiting rights once a month. She's quite kind and generous really.
Unless she's armed...
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Oh yeah, if anyone asks, i got slightly delayed with the posts that SHOULDA been next, so i added this, as i had it lying around complaining about feeling neglected and stuff. Pathetic, really.
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
No no no, Mr Darcy is mine, all mine! I can beat Lizzie Bennet (or any other chick who wants a scrap) hands down any day (n.b. Sat, look what you started - girl wars....).
It's that scene where he smolders over the pianaforte that gets me everytime....oh, and the wet shirt routine, that ain't bad either!
Cheers for momentarily distracting me from my Billy Joe Armstrong obsession!
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
She must really adore you. And you must be incredibly adorable to be adored so much!
Lizzy hollered thusly:
*grin* Awww you witty piece o' rubbish!
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
hey there dude. nice of ya to drop by... and your clones too!
=}
Problems with blogger, i guess?
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
HEh! Yer shoulda left 'em there. I found they added to the comments most amusingly.
catch ya later.
S.
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19.10.04 | The Milltown Cat (or 'More Tails of Hot Pussy')
Prudence with poise!!! Clicky for full glory. Oyess.
So Prudence returns to my blog once again. Mainly because this is just about my most favourite cat picture i ever took. Also it was an incredible fluke, because i hadn't done any focussing or anything!! Depth of field?- What's that?!?!
I was quite new to cameras then, using an old manual pentax slr that me dad bought for forty quid from a second-hand shop. Still have it. Still works just fine.
Anyway, i was talking about the dear departed Prude (We actually called her Moodas, just as often) to her owner the other day. And so i remembered that i was gonna post this.
Next up: The Saturnyne remembers his childhood television habits, PLUS (Gasp from an adoring audience please)... What exactly does a Harle Syker sound like? The Saturnyne gives you some mirthful pointers...
Adieu!
13 comments :.
Jessie hollered thusly:
That is a beautiful shot!
b hollered thusly:
lovely photo!
oh, it so reminds me of england, lovely england.
when i visited june last year, my friend (in bury) had 2 black cats named polly and esther (when you called for them you would shout 'polyester'- clever, eh?). they would come in at random from the roof thru my open 2nd story guestroom window to visit me. they had fleas, which made me sad. anyways...
of my own pics, i find that my faves are always the happy accidents. i'm lucky to get 5 good shots on one 24exp roll!
pentax- yeah!
anticipating your next post...
SingleFin hollered thusly:
Mmmmiiiaaaooooww!
Ace pic dude!
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
THAT PICTURE IS GORGEOUS! Kitties have such personality. This morning, the neighbors kitty was walking across the street as I was trying to drive down it so I slowed for her and she slowed and I crept forward and she crept forward, then I slowed again and she scurried across but the entire time she was looking at the car SO suspiciously! It was like she thought the car was stalking her. The look on her furry face was priceless! eek! LOVE IT!
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
Whilst undoubtedly smart, sassy and in control of their own destiny, cats make me sneeze. Bah!
Still, it's a lovely photo.
Carl Berry hollered thusly:
So then, the image is titled "prudence altered large internet size.jpg" so with the altered part in mind we have to ask.
Have you been touching up those cats again ?
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
WEll, Carl, the pic is so named, because i had to make a few alterations, re: dustmarks, contrast, untinting, retinting, cropping, sharpening (perhaps, but mebbe not) and then re-sizing it from a mere 60 meg down to a more palatable 600+k
Also, i couldn't resist making my image archives even more complex and unfathomable than they are already.
Although... it kinda makes sense somewhere in me head...
HEy B, didja say "Bury" there? THat's near me... well... a one hour bus ride away on the X43... next time yer in this part o' the world, ya should drop by, an' i'll take yer to my favourite caff. Would be a pleasure. I'll even pay!
In fact yer all should drop by if yer ever even remotely within 50 miles of my home, or i'll be insulted and call yer rude names. Glower too, probably.
THanks for the praise, everyone. Am attempting to not be smug about it... at least on the outside. heh!
S.
b hollered thusly:
whoops, when i said "bury" i meant bury st. edmunds, suffolk, which would actually be about 4-5 hours from you (i think?). i had no idea there would be an actual "bury"- sorry. but, if i get moved over there in the next year or so (like i plan to), then harle syke would make for a nice weekend trip.
i was once acquainted with some people next door to me in my last apartment building in birmingham, alabama who were from blackpool. that is closer to you, isn't it?
well, if i ever get over there to your area, i'll take you up on that offer!
chairs!
Lizzy hollered thusly:
Aww. Thats a nice picture. Cute.
stella hollered thusly:
... such soft and intense eyes at the same time! reminds me of my first kitty we called grey... ;)
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
I want to visit you! AAARGH!
my sun sets to rise again hollered thusly:
Aww, thats a lovely photo.
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Ah, more luvverlylyly comments.
Yeah, i do have some more graveyard shots to share at some point in the distant future, Amanda.
And, i'm a terrible host in a small house, Cece! But if you and yer family DO find yerself in the NW of England, then by all means look me up. I shall be eccentrically chaming, no doubt...
S.
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12.10.04 | American Presidential Debate: The Truth
Ahh, so that's wot it woz!
This cartoon and more like it can be found by visiting my "Guardian Angel" Linky... somewhere down the right there... The cartoonist is called Steven Bell, or Steve Bell, or Maybe Steevey-Weevey Belly to his chums.
Mr Bell to you and me, though. Especially if we make bad jokes around his name.
Anyway, continuing the theme... in a roundabout way... which we'll come to later... i was at my favourite venue in Burnley-town last night watching the ever-charming Sian sing our socks off (She's also in me linkyloos down the side). (Blame Tam for me calling 'em "linkyloos" by the way... did i mention that Tam is also in... yeah yeah... ok, i'm digressing...)
...where was i? Oh yeah, Music. Venue. Called The Red Triangle Cafe. Lovely place. You must come and have a mug o' coffee with me there sometime.
Got delightfully drunk. Got slightly stoned. Not. (about 1%... waste o' time really. Cannabis never works for me when i smoke it. Although it doesn't stop me from optimistically trying it when passed on those very rare occasions when it comes into reach. Interestingly, most of the drug-dealers in this area are probably aged about ten... Where do they get it from, i wonder? Evil clowns, i reckon) Met nice people, and re-met an old friend who i thought was never going to speak to me again. His missus, was there also, an' she's currently living down near Mr Singlefins (links. *sigh* Over there *waves hand in links direction*), apparently. Listened to some great music, and some awful poetry readings, which one watches in the hope of the very minute chance of spontaneous-combustion live onstage...
Came back with my-reacquainted friend and spent the rest of the night/morning watching Weebl and Bob (scroll down/scroll up/look across the page to the right a little. Notice the badly titled thing which is my poor approximation of something called Links. Except i obviously haven't called it that. No, that would be too easy. As would including proper links to everyone i've mentioned so far, directly from this post. Well i like to make ya work for yer enjoyment an' pleasure. It's one o' the ways i get my cheap kicks. Anyways i'm digressing, so back to what i "was doing"...), and playing fps computah games (fraggerama!), oh and watching Sian's friend Kylie, dyeing her hair live on webcam. For this entertainment, we taunted her with drunken gibberish, spoken in cheap posh accents.
Oh, yeah, getting back to the tenuous "theme"... while i was sitting drunkenly in the caff' i happened to notice some leaflets demanding "Bush Out".
Now call me stupid-
(Everyone: "You're stupid!")
(Me: "Roight you lot, Ahtsoide, Naah!")
... but in my drunken state i first thought that it was some anti-feminist fanatics propaganda. An' THEN i considered hopefully that i might be some pro-feminist propaganda, seeing as i was in a socialist environment...
"Sisters! Feel my solidarity!" It was one of those kind of moments. Oh dear...
Of course i realized my faux-pas. Erm... later.
Well!- i was drunk!! Ok? I just hope that nice looking old couple i was sitting next to at the time, understood that too...
Ack! Embarrassment!
Anyway, in closing, i want you all to go an' say Hi to Janey. (No pansy-wansy excuses for not doing). Who has recently suffered a furry bereavement, an' needs lotsa condolences, cos she's utterly one of the nicest people in the entire wide world ever, an' i adore her. (She also looks kinda scrummy, too!)
Ay thank yew!
S.
5 comments :.
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
BUSH OUT?! <---laughing and laughing and laughing some more.
That DOES sound like anti-fem propaganda! Oh dear. I'm right there with you and I haven't been drunk in over a year! (sigh)
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
*blushes fitfully* thank 'ee me dear. I have been a maudlin bint of late, must confess. Love the cartoon by the way, and did I mention my friend gave me a shirt which reads 'Wax Bush 2004'...?
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
Omigosh. We could make all kinds of dirty sounding shirts!
NO BUSH
I (HEART) BUSH
....You know, along those lines. What fun!
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Antics? You missed them?
Well, i'm sure there'll be more along any minute...
Starbuck hollered thusly:
Steve Bell is The Don (as I believe these youngsters say).
Never fails to make an impact.
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10.10.04 | Yeah, But Is It "Art"? (The Saturyne "Investigates")
Hello gorgeous, i'm back!
Didja miss me?
(insert "lie" here)
Thank yer! Thank yer! I missed you too! More than my first wife, who i incidentally haven't married yet, to the best of my knowledge...
Well anyway, i've been reading about the Tate Modern gallery, down in London, which by all accounts, is a bloody fabulous place, capable of HUUUGE and amazing exhibits:
Marsayas by Anish Kapoor (Click the "HUUUGE" link above for a true sense of scale
And also, erm, the truly bizarre and mundane. Read THIS before reading any further...
Oi! i said read the link! Stop yer headlong rush to the end of this post right NOW! Or else...
*sigh* They threw away his exhibit, thinking it was merely rubbish. Tchah!
Well it seems that some folks just have the right connections...
After all, for years and years, i have been displaying similar art, wryly titled "Bulging Black Bin Liner (And Wheelie Bin)" freely for all my neighbours to appreciate and admire. In fact it's become something of a community project, with several others in my street displaying such varied titles as "Seven Days of Plate Scrapings"; "Rancid Nappy Monster Retch Alert"; and "Porn Mags That The Wife Discovered Behind The Wardrobe" (A favourite with the young men around here, that one).
The project has taken on an aura of sadness and defiance though, as it seems, before we receive the recognition and riches that we deserve, every monday, men from the council come and take our sculptures away, claiming that "It's just rubbish" and fit only for the tip... i fear that "The Tip" is not some new avant-garde gallery, as some of my more hopeful neighbours have desired, but a... real waste disposal site! The horror! There must be millions of pounds worth of art there by now...
If anyone feels sympathy for our plight in the face of such mirthless vandalism, please leave your comment below in the "petition" space provided, and hopefully i shall hand it in to the town council at the earliest possible opportunity, demanding at the least, either the repatriation of our artworks, or equivalent monetary costs. (Hopefully the latter, because then i can buy some nice compact discs and DVD's in time for Christmas.
Thankyer. Thankyer.
I remain yer most humble and brilliant servant,
The Saturnyne.
7 comments :.
MuzeKez hollered thusly:
I was going to sign the petition to have your and your neighbours', uh, "artwork" recognised and displayed in a more appropriate space than the local tip, but I'm still chuckling about the fact someone threw the guy's "art" out of the London gallery. *insert joyous giggles here* I think that cleaner ought to stop by some of the other major art galleries around the globe and, you know, do some *cleaning*. :-)
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
I saw the Anish Kapoor sculpture at the Baltic in Gateshead when it was being redevloped. What he did was fairly amazing - the building is five storeys high, and was basically just two walls, from and back, with a massive red scultpure, much like the one you picture, displayed through the centre. Quite a nice idea to turn a building sight into a piece of art.
I have some reservations about modern art. We went to see the Gormley sculptures 'Domain Fields' at the Baltic, which was clever and rather spooky, but his other sculptures were a bit cack - one looked like a giant pair of elephant's balls...
Lizzy hollered thusly:
w00t. glad to have you back. =)
SingleFin hollered thusly:
Ah, there you are! Been saving this for ya... where is it? oh, sat on it... d'oh.
Starbuck hollered thusly:
Rrrrrubish!
lynda brendish hollered thusly:
I would sign yer petition.. 'cept I know what it's like to live through a rubbish-strike.
quite stinky, actually, and not so much with the arty..
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Too late! Anything left in this bit is "petition". Bwahahah!
Which does mean, of course, that, i'll probably end up signing it lotsa times...
Anyway, it's all about the lolly really, the greens and browns and especially the purples with their cute little "£" signs closely followed by "2" and "0".
And yeah, i know it may be stinky, but we artists understand that one has to suffer for ones art, at times.... i think of it as art that "breathes"...
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7.10.04 | The Saturnyne Takes A Cigarette Break
Having a time out for a few days, dear people.
Going to be sad and hate the world.
But mainly sad.
Apologies.
S.
:footnote thing.
'tis only for a couple of days, me darlings. My batteries need recharging and i've had a rotten day (/week/month/season/year/decade/life/multiple lifetimes of pissy reinarnations)(Just joking. Probably)... , which has put me on a downer.
I'll probably be up and bouncy by the weekends end.
S.x
7 comments :.
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
Take care, and you know where my mail box is if you need a hug or a rant xxx
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
Noooooooooooooooo!
Take me with yooooooooooooooooou! I want to smoke (I quit 3 months ago) and shut down for a few days! I'm seriously stressing over here...(sob!)
Jessie hollered thusly:
Stop by the backyard, daylight savings is engaged and it's full speed ahead for summer. Good times guaranteed. :)
SingleFin hollered thusly:
Take it easy matey. If ya fancy a surf, drop on by!
sf
b hollered thusly:
i totally get where you are coming from!
you recharge, and come back to us brighter than ever!
i need a break as well, but now's not a good time. too much happening at the mo.
take care you!
Lizzy hollered thusly:
Take it easy dude? Or not. Whichever comes first.
my sun sets to rise again hollered thusly:
Have fun.
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4.10.04 | The Saturnyne Muses Upon Death
"What do they think about, in their beds beneath the ground?
What do the dead people think about?
Grave Musings
"When the summer earth swelters, when roots press against their backs like creases in the bedsheets...
When sleep won't come, what notions do they entertain in those frail parchment bulbs that once were skulls?
The party continues overhead, with songs heard before and dances long since wearied of.
Slumbering below, is it a consolation that as with roots and trees, all things above are determined by what lies buried beneath?
Dreaming amongst the foundations of the world, are they content? Do the yellowing ribs still grate together in a nostalgic parody of breath?
Sentinels
"Do the dry sockets thirst for one final glimpse of sky?
Tongueless do they fondly repeat old dialogues, headstones tilting together to share a grievance?
Life In Death
"What do they talk about, in their beds beneath the ground? What do the dead people talk about...
...And which voices are the loudest?"
-From The Saga of the Swamp Thing #41,
by Alan Moore
Today, i have been spending the rainswept twilight hours stalking through graveyards and considering what it means to die and be dead...
Do we really have souls? Does a soul really weigh 21 grams? Where does it go? Which religion has the answer?- imean, they can't all be right, can they? I'd be more willing to bet that they can all be wrong, though.
And does that God guy really have much to say these days?
Does (S)He even exist?
Some people want to leave their mark forever, as if that's some way to immortality. Realistically speaking, i don't think that's gonna happen for anyone. The really really really lucky one's will get a few thousand years at most. Looking at history, i wonder if even your Mohammed, your Christ, your Moses etc. etc. will get that long... Nope, everything ends. And is forgotten. Accepting that, might enrich the lives of many...
Having thought on this at length (years. Of existential crisis), i have to say.
I don't fear the actual dying. I'm hoping that it'll be like waking up (grins).
I'm not so sure how i'll feel about the moments leading up to my demise though...
Will i be afraid? Sad? Happy? Joking through it all like an evil motherfucker? Perhaps a curious mixture of all three.
And the point to all this musing?
Well, Lady Death will come for us all one day, and she's a capricious thing. Any place. Any time, ya know...
If you have things unsaid or love not given. Make a point of saying. Of giving. Today. For tomorrow we die. Probably.
Hopefully just after tea (Harle Syke tea) and with a nice glass of something sweet and alcoholic in hand, and just after dessert, which will hopefully involve something chocolate. Actually, if we could leave it a few hours after tea, it'd be nice to be able to fit in a few rounds of mad pash lovemaking, too, and perhaps a couple of records, anna favourite movie...
Thank-you.
Big love to ye all.
S.xxx
16 comments :.
Lizzy hollered thusly:
Isn't it 21grams? o_O
Mueh, I love Death. Delirium's still a personal favourite of the Sandmand series though.
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
Oh that is spooky. I just watched 21 grams on DVD.
The images in that post were beautiful. I became obsessed with the notion of dying a couple of years back, but my approach was a little less poetic and a lot more pragmatic. I researched what happens to your body when it decomposes (there are some fab pics out there...). As an atheist I have issues with the whole life after death caboodle. On a completely different level, I got into an arguement with a lecturer in a communications lecture who said dead bodies can't tell tales. Of course they can...
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
PS...as to the Sandman character debate, my fav supporting character has to be Shiverin' Jemmy of the Shallow Brigade. Because I want to be her. Because I am already a little bit her.
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
yeah, it is 21 grams, and i thought i altered it befoe i posted the bloody thing! D'oh! but thanks for pointing it out Lzzy
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
And that is why I shall be cremated. Or consent to Vampirism and Immortality. I don't want a place underground...as you said...in a thousand years...who will even know I am there? and better yet...in a hundred years, who will be left to care? Burial is pointless. And creepy.
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Janey, Shivering Jemmy? EeK! but kinda cute. I actually always kinda liked Martin Tenbones outta the minor supporting cast (i hope i remembered his name right) but am still undecided really about my favourite... That silent Angel(Duma?) was always kinda cool...
Good point there Cece... i always thought i wanted to be buried... y'know, going back to the Earth's womb, give the relatives and friends somewhere to visit... but i guess, if i outlive the important ones, then a cremation wouldn't be a worry... or mebbe an exotic sky burial like they have in parts of India.
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
My parents have already kindly sorted their funerals out for my brother and I, by picking their own burial plots and coffins at a woodland burial site. They were kinda choosy about the view. They actually visit their plots as well, and are very excited by the fact that in the two years since purchase the prices have doubled.
I think I'd like my carcass to go to the medical facility who dump you in the open air in various seasons so that they can learn from your decomposition. At least I'd have some use, rather than being a moldering hump of earth.
And you'd like to be a large, furry dog type creature devoted to his princess...that's kinda sweet, S.
I related to Jemmy most when she got angry. BIG scary!
b hollered thusly:
i didn't really think about death much until my grandmother passed away 5 years ago.
i know now that i want to be cremated. i don't like the idea of my body decomposing. i guess it wouldn't matter much, since my body is just the vessel for my inner spirit, but i still don't want it in a grave slowly decaying.
i'm not religious. i might like to have my ashes scattered somewhere in england, which is my favorite place.
i don't fear death, really, but i worry about suffering before death. i wish all deaths were immediate, and no one would suffer pain.
my sun sets to rise again hollered thusly:
hey can't all be right, can they?
Why not? Its better than thinking they're all wrong.
the dead don't share,
though they reach towards us from the grave
(i swear they do)they do not hand their hearts to you,
they and their head,
the part that stares.
(stan rice :-P)
21 Grams is a mint film, almost bought it the other day.
Lizzy hollered thusly:
Haha. Here in Singapore you don't even get to choose. Thanks to serious land constraints its just Cremate-yourself-or-else. All our dead reside in urns, resting in snug-fit cubicles that line the halls of multi-story buildings...
Starbuck hollered thusly:
In the words of the one and only Trent Reznor,
# Your God is dead
And we don't care
If there is a hell
I'll see you there #
Deep!
And damn you, Saturnyne - by mentioning Swamp Thing, you've put the Return of the Killer Tomatos theme tune on my internal jukebox...
Marlene hollered thusly:
Death is something you cannot avoid, so let it be. What i really hate is the idea of a funeral, people staring at you when you´re no more than a dead body. I´d rather be nude in public than having people looking when i can´t see them.
Ginger Doll hollered thusly:
As it says on the Funeral songs section of my website, funerals should celebrate life, not mourn it. I intend to leave enough cash for a huge wake, and as to open caskets, they're not really used much in the UK. Though the wife up the street from us did have her husband just behind the front door in his open coffin, and took pictures of him.
I guess it's pretty much horses for courses. I always bury my hamsters on the cliff tops looking out to sea. We get funny looks walking along with our trowl and a little parcel, but what the hell!
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Oh yes. Life is for living. Plenty of time for worrying about being dead, when ye actually are...
For myself, i have an insatiable curiosity about everything. I like to know.
And i too would be wanting a wake. Just in the way you describe, Janey.
WEll this post has certainly generated a lot of interesting responses so far. I did wonder if it would be a bit too disturbing for some, or too gloomy.
I think the next one will be much lighter in tone...
Carl Berry hollered thusly:
Happy happy happy, joy joy joy...
"Does a soul really weigh 21 grams?"
You're on the wrong side of the pond to be using gram so we'll stick to grammes if you don't mind ;) but in either case no they don't :
http://www.snopes.com/religion/soulweight.asp
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
Ah, mr Carl, why didn't i put it to your scientific mind in the first place?
Still at leasti managed to get a link in to the film...
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1.10.04 | Yowsa!
i have Peek-A-Boo comments! They're so gorgeous. They're sooo mine!
Oh.
Yeah...
Hi everybody!
Hugs to yer all.
As it is currently verry laaate; I am really tired and so this is a short post.
THank heavens for my highly trained team of spiders, who even as i speak, are weaving special threads to my eyelids to keep them open.
THis unfortunately, has the side effect of making me look like a wild-eyed goblin. With spiders running busily about the face.
Still, it keeps the children away. And that's good.
7 comments :.
b hollered thusly:
B says: "peek-a-boo"!
yes, keeping the children away is very important. damn those pesky kids! they're always getting into things consisting of tons of tiny parts. they are like little hurricanes, disheveling everything they touch and creating large areas of wreckage and debris. messy ones, they are. spiders'll do the trick!
i'm drinking some hot tea with honey (being careful not to scald my tongue this time). should put me to sleep in a bit. i must get to bed, long day tomorrow!
bye!
Tam hollered thusly:
Gah! Aren't they magnificent?
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
oyess! i keep clicking it. All day, an' all night.
Lizzy hollered thusly:
oooo. sw333t.
Cece Martinez hollered thusly:
oooh!
so THATS how I keep them away? Good to know.
PEEK A BOO!
The Saturnyne hollered thusly:
yeah, anything which keeps childs away is good.
minger hollered thusly:
you were very tired.. heh.. and i'm tired now too.. 14hours in bus.. overwhelming..
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LMAO. Christ, you must have an infinite storage of wit somewhere in the vast crevaces of your comprehensive skull. And was that opening line from The Dark is Rising series? It seems oddly familiar.
I think your Pumpkin is very lucky to have such an amusing friend.
Almost correct Lizzy. I was familiar with that line from the book when i was writing. But it is based on truth. All Hallow's Eve did uesed to be the last day of the year. From tomorrow, the English earth will be spending it's time dead for three months or so... or it would if we didn't have some o' that pesky global warming, which makes English Winter, Summer, and Autumn more like English Spring all year round. I HATE Spring, when it doesn't know it's place.
Roll on the end of petrol. And chainsaws. And cattle.(Of course, by then, it'll all be too late...)
And Hi Shannon! How's ya find yer way here? Am always interested in such things...
*waves*
Absolutely S.G.! Autumn is always the best time of year! Of course, if we didn't have the other seasons too, then we might appreciate it less. Still, Spring, eh? Fackin' Spring. Blossoms are ok, but everything looks sooo fackin' watery. An' it's still got cold leftovers from fackin' Winter! Bastard!
Hey D.C.! Anytime ya need some o' those Pozz Vibes, lemme know, an' they'll creep over an keep ya company. Ya might not notice they're there, but if ye ever hear little giggles of laughter in the night, an' find empty soup tins lying around the next morning...
lotsa love,
S.x
\\ you have the wildest imagination! such an incredible *delight*.
Hee! Dinosaur Jr.!
hey, just wanted to say hey, thanks for visiting my blog, just returning the favour
Hi Saturnyne:
Any chance you have some spare PVs hiding about or some tomato soup would go alright... :)
And thanks for sprinkling your warm cheer here and there - you truly are the "Tomato Soup Provider Supreme" !
- Stella
Hey Amanda, i was on msn earlier, but i saw you had your "busy" sign up. So i didn't wanna disturb yer. Ahm ok. I suppose. Middling to good to bad.
And, if my blog and comments cheer your heart Stella, then i think this blog is succeeding in one of the things that i accidentally "set out" to achieve... HEh!
(ok if truth be told, i didn't actually set out to achieve anything, but things are turning out good. Maybe i'm spreading little ripples of happiness out across the blogverse)
I'll send ya some P.V.'s out as soon as they get back from a secret mission. They seem to have been rather busy these past few days...
S.xxx
Your P.V's are adorable and have now instilled in me a strange craving for tomato soup...
But I digress.
Thanks for the visit. It really is a small world, since I do believe I have been here before.
You've been here before? And didn't leave a comment! For shame!
The Saturnyne craves comments. Even commentary abuse, provided it's not er, anonymous... great name ya have there, by the way...
=}
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