Feel like running in slow
motion down an empty corridor
into and through a glass door
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
Sunday, 14 November 2010
'Novelisation' of the Argos Catalogue [unfinished]
The Catalogue
Jewellery & Watches
They are not close. And yet, they sit very close to each other.
“What is the time?”
“How should I know?”
“Why are you so vain?”
“I am not vain, I’m just extremely vacuous.”
“Is that why you’re smiling? How does one become extremely vacuous?”
“I see you’re listening.”
They smile, baring teeth.
Gifts, Gadgets & Hobbies
They don’t know me, they have never known me, she thinks. She bites a nail into bits, crunching it with her incisors. She swallows the bits of nail and looks at the jagged, wet edge on the tip of her finger. To her side is a box. In the box there are various objects, a helmet that looks like it is in the shape of hair from Robotech is most visible, all that’s left from the five riding lessons she took last year. Her hand brushes an unpanelled section of the attic floor, a soft yellow-cloud-like material. She rubs her hand, superstitiously, feeling it itch. She pulls up the ladder, then the door. Then she turns the light off.
Kitchen & Laundry
Denim dungarees on his Christmas list, wanting to look like Mario. He is a monster now. He is an advert for washing powder. He does not care one iota for me, my health, or any emotional issues I may have. He is ferocious and brutal. Most of my time is spent trying not to wake the monster dressed in denim dungarees, and yet I cannot do anything without waking him. So I do nothing. I make him food, but he is not grateful.
Home & Furniture
She sips coffee – instant granules, hot water, milk, brown sugar – at the kitchen table. It has been raining for most of the morning, but that suits her fine. She had nothing planned. The washing machine has been turning for a while now. All of this is comfortable to her, the rain, the washing, the coffee. She lifts a foot up and tucks it under her bottom. She has not even bothered to check her answer phone today.
Sports & Leisure
“Grandchildren are great, you can give them back afterwards.” he remembers an uncle writing in a Christmas newsletter once. How long ago was that now? He would like to write to his long dead uncle: “When does giving become spoiling?” He has more questions like this stored away, an escritoire in some cob-webbed corner of his brain. The unanswerable. I know there is no such thing as romantic love, he thinks, but there is romance and there is love and somewhere they most cross over and spill into each other. Perhaps they cancel each other out.
When assembling the table-hockey table he troubleshoots the term “Romantic Love” because he know it will return no results.
Health & Personal Care
She gets in from work and has a shower. She ties her hair up before having a shower and only washes her fringe with shampoo and conditioner. She shaves her armpits and half her left leg before getting bored and stopping. The water has washed away all the dry sweat that has accumulated on her skin throughout the day and is now washing away fresh sweat caused by the heat of the water and the size of the shower cubicle. She turns off the shower and gets out, wrapping herself in a towel as she stands in front of the steamed mirror. She wipes her hand across the glass, but where she wipes quickly steams up again. She opens the door to let some fresh air in and feels it catch on the droplets of water she has missed when drying herself. She wipes the mirror again, this time with a bit more success. She looks at a small red mark by the corner of her right nostril, a fresh spot buried deep under the skin. She blames her diet and tells herself to eat healthier food. She shakes out some of the water from her fringe with the tips of her fingers, separating the hairs. She ties the towel just above her breasts and walks back to her bedroom where she will spray herself with deodorant and sit for a while in her underwear before getting dressed and straightening her hair.
Technology, Computers & Office
It has gotten dark
I haven't turned on any lights
just this, staring back.
Making a Bluetooth connection feels archaic.
Baby & Nursery
We had discussed names, sex, quantity etc,. Talked about, mythologized, it was like they already existed somewhere, in our shared imagination, between the lines traced by my phone up to a satellite in space and then back down to yours. But, of course, if it had come into being at the time it would have been aborted.
Toys & Gaming
Alan is 9 years old. He is waiting for his weekly chess lesson to start. He is the best chess player in his school, and only once has the teacher managed to ‘check’ him. Both acted graciously after the match, but as his mother drove him home from the chess lesson, Alan burst into tears. His mother asked if anyone had picked on him or called him names, but Alan could not muster a reply through the sobs.
The chess lessons take place after school in classroom 4b. While Alan waits for the others to arrive he and the chess teacher, Mrs Crab, take out the chess boards and arrange the tables and chairs. People pair up as they come in. Alan watches them, one by one they take their seats, avoiding him, until the last person runs in late, dismayed with who he has to play.
They are not close. And yet, they sit very close to each other.
“What is the time?”
“How should I know?”
“Why are you so vain?”
“I am not vain, I’m just extremely vacuous.”
“Is that why you’re smiling? How does one become extremely vacuous?”
“I see you’re listening.”
They smile, baring teeth.
Gifts, Gadgets & Hobbies
They don’t know me, they have never known me, she thinks. She bites a nail into bits, crunching it with her incisors. She swallows the bits of nail and looks at the jagged, wet edge on the tip of her finger. To her side is a box. In the box there are various objects, a helmet that looks like it is in the shape of hair from Robotech is most visible, all that’s left from the five riding lessons she took last year. Her hand brushes an unpanelled section of the attic floor, a soft yellow-cloud-like material. She rubs her hand, superstitiously, feeling it itch. She pulls up the ladder, then the door. Then she turns the light off.
Kitchen & Laundry
Denim dungarees on his Christmas list, wanting to look like Mario. He is a monster now. He is an advert for washing powder. He does not care one iota for me, my health, or any emotional issues I may have. He is ferocious and brutal. Most of my time is spent trying not to wake the monster dressed in denim dungarees, and yet I cannot do anything without waking him. So I do nothing. I make him food, but he is not grateful.
Home & Furniture
She sips coffee – instant granules, hot water, milk, brown sugar – at the kitchen table. It has been raining for most of the morning, but that suits her fine. She had nothing planned. The washing machine has been turning for a while now. All of this is comfortable to her, the rain, the washing, the coffee. She lifts a foot up and tucks it under her bottom. She has not even bothered to check her answer phone today.
Sports & Leisure
“Grandchildren are great, you can give them back afterwards.” he remembers an uncle writing in a Christmas newsletter once. How long ago was that now? He would like to write to his long dead uncle: “When does giving become spoiling?” He has more questions like this stored away, an escritoire in some cob-webbed corner of his brain. The unanswerable. I know there is no such thing as romantic love, he thinks, but there is romance and there is love and somewhere they most cross over and spill into each other. Perhaps they cancel each other out.
When assembling the table-hockey table he troubleshoots the term “Romantic Love” because he know it will return no results.
Health & Personal Care
She gets in from work and has a shower. She ties her hair up before having a shower and only washes her fringe with shampoo and conditioner. She shaves her armpits and half her left leg before getting bored and stopping. The water has washed away all the dry sweat that has accumulated on her skin throughout the day and is now washing away fresh sweat caused by the heat of the water and the size of the shower cubicle. She turns off the shower and gets out, wrapping herself in a towel as she stands in front of the steamed mirror. She wipes her hand across the glass, but where she wipes quickly steams up again. She opens the door to let some fresh air in and feels it catch on the droplets of water she has missed when drying herself. She wipes the mirror again, this time with a bit more success. She looks at a small red mark by the corner of her right nostril, a fresh spot buried deep under the skin. She blames her diet and tells herself to eat healthier food. She shakes out some of the water from her fringe with the tips of her fingers, separating the hairs. She ties the towel just above her breasts and walks back to her bedroom where she will spray herself with deodorant and sit for a while in her underwear before getting dressed and straightening her hair.
Technology, Computers & Office
It has gotten dark
I haven't turned on any lights
just this, staring back.
Making a Bluetooth connection feels archaic.
Baby & Nursery
We had discussed names, sex, quantity etc,. Talked about, mythologized, it was like they already existed somewhere, in our shared imagination, between the lines traced by my phone up to a satellite in space and then back down to yours. But, of course, if it had come into being at the time it would have been aborted.
Toys & Gaming
Alan is 9 years old. He is waiting for his weekly chess lesson to start. He is the best chess player in his school, and only once has the teacher managed to ‘check’ him. Both acted graciously after the match, but as his mother drove him home from the chess lesson, Alan burst into tears. His mother asked if anyone had picked on him or called him names, but Alan could not muster a reply through the sobs.
The chess lessons take place after school in classroom 4b. While Alan waits for the others to arrive he and the chess teacher, Mrs Crab, take out the chess boards and arrange the tables and chairs. People pair up as they come in. Alan watches them, one by one they take their seats, avoiding him, until the last person runs in late, dismayed with who he has to play.
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
lost: brown hoodie, blue v-neck
i spent a long time looking at photos on facebook dated 2006
they may have been taken before
was 2006 the year we all got facebook accounts and transferred our photos from myspace?
seems so long ago
2005 was, maybe, a good year in some way
in one of the pictures i am sitting on my friend's bed
reading a zine we made
the angle is skewed
they may have been taken before
was 2006 the year we all got facebook accounts and transferred our photos from myspace?
seems so long ago
2005 was, maybe, a good year in some way
in one of the pictures i am sitting on my friend's bed
reading a zine we made
the angle is skewed
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Initial Encounters That Would Later Be Referred To
when i first met you
my friend said we needed to wait
you were alone
crossing the road, smiling
and my brain said to itself
the smile is nervous and shy
and perhaps melancholic
and i found that comforting
the next time, after you left
i told a mutual friend
your voice was strangely low
because i was picking faults
or drunk
or making conversation
i would tell you at a later date anyway
which made me feel like less of a prick
then you stood behind me
at maumoniats in a black and white hat
and i turned around and you smiled
and said you were going to the
house show later, when i asked
we talked a lot that night about
awkward conversations
and you were worried you were keeping
me from socialising
but i already quite liked you
and it made me happy when
someone asked if we were actually going out
when we told him we had never met before
my friend said we needed to wait
you were alone
crossing the road, smiling
and my brain said to itself
the smile is nervous and shy
and perhaps melancholic
and i found that comforting
the next time, after you left
i told a mutual friend
your voice was strangely low
because i was picking faults
or drunk
or making conversation
i would tell you at a later date anyway
which made me feel like less of a prick
then you stood behind me
at maumoniats in a black and white hat
and i turned around and you smiled
and said you were going to the
house show later, when i asked
we talked a lot that night about
awkward conversations
and you were worried you were keeping
me from socialising
but i already quite liked you
and it made me happy when
someone asked if we were actually going out
when we told him we had never met before
Thursday, 21 October 2010
Saints on Wikipedia
St. Anthony
Patronage: lost articles; lower animals; Mail; oppressed people; poor people; Portugal; seekers of lost articles; travel hostesses
St. Basil
Patronage: Hospital administrators, Reformers, Monks, Education, Exorcism
St. Catherine
Patronage: Unmarried girls
St. David
Patronage: Vegetarians; poets
St. Elmo
Patronage: colic in children, intestinal ailments and diseases, cramps
St. Fabian
Birth name: Fabianus
St. Giles
Patronage: fear of night; forests; hermits; lepers; mental illness; noctiphobics; outcasts; poor people
St. Helena
Patronage: difficult marriages; divorced people
St. Isidore
Patronage: The internet
St. Jude
Patronage: lost causes; desperate people
St. Kyriaki
"As she was about to be decapitated, she started praying to God. That was the last thing that she ever did. At the time of her death she was 21 years old."
St. Louis
Patronage: France, French monarchy; hairdressers; passementiers
St. Methodius
Patronage: Ecumenism
St. Ninian
"Nothing is known about his teachings"
St. Olaf
Patronage: carvers; difficult marriage; kings
St. Pancras
"Pancras withdrew to a cave in Pontus where he was discovered by Saint Peter and was sent to Sicily in the year 40 to be the first Bishop of Tauromenium (the modern Taormina). There he met his death by stoning at the hands of pagan opponents of the new religion."
St. Quirinus
Patronage: invoked against the bubonic plague, smallpox, and gout; afflictions associated with the legs, feet, ears; paralysis; ulcers; goiter; skin conditions; diseases affecting cattle and horses
St. Rumbold
Attributes: Depicted as ... a bearded man with a hoe lying under his feet. He may also be shown murdered near a coffer of money.
St. Seiya
"Seiya is sent to the Sanctuary in Greece to become the Pegasus Saint. After six years, Seiya becomes the Pegasus Saint and returns to Japan to find his older sister. Because his sister disappeared the same day Seiya went to the Sanctuary, Saori Kido, the granddaughter of the person who sent all the orphans to train, makes a deal with him to go to fight in a tournament called the Galaxian Wars, where the orphans who survived and became Bronze Saints must fight to win the most powerful Cloth: The Sagittarius Gold Cloth. If Seiya goes to compete there and wins, Saori would start a search to find Seiya's sister."
St. Tail
"The first seven dubbed episodes were loosely based on the original dialogue and, perhaps in an act of political correctness, removed references to God. (This is especially awkward because the story follows students in a private religious school, and because Saint Tail's stealing is sinful to her religion, she always asks for God's forgiveness before a caper)."
St. Ursula
"The Huns shot Ursula dead"
St. Vitus
Patronage: actors; comedians; dancers; dogs; epilepsy; oversleeping
St. Wenceslaus
"There are many legends about King Wenceslaus. An old one claims a huge army of knights sleep inside Blaník, a mountain in the Czech Republic. The knights will awake and under the command of St. Wenceslaus and bring aid to the Czech people when they face ultimate danger"
St. Xenia
"She possessed a deep humility, accounting herself the worst and most sinful of all."
St. Yves
Patronage: Brittany, lawyers, abandoned children
St. Zeno
"According to legend he was stolen at birth and briefly replaced by a demonic changeling. One story relates that Saint Zeno, one day fishing on the banks of the Adige, which he did in order to feed himself (rather than as recreation), saw a peasant crossing the river in a horse and cart. The horses began to get strangely skittish. Zeno, believing this to be the work of the devil, made the sign of the cross, and the horses calmed down."
Patronage: lost articles; lower animals; Mail; oppressed people; poor people; Portugal; seekers of lost articles; travel hostesses
St. Basil
Patronage: Hospital administrators, Reformers, Monks, Education, Exorcism
St. Catherine
Patronage: Unmarried girls
St. David
Patronage: Vegetarians; poets
St. Elmo
Patronage: colic in children, intestinal ailments and diseases, cramps
St. Fabian
Birth name: Fabianus
St. Giles
Patronage: fear of night; forests; hermits; lepers; mental illness; noctiphobics; outcasts; poor people
St. Helena
Patronage: difficult marriages; divorced people
St. Isidore
Patronage: The internet
St. Jude
Patronage: lost causes; desperate people
St. Kyriaki
"As she was about to be decapitated, she started praying to God. That was the last thing that she ever did. At the time of her death she was 21 years old."
St. Louis
Patronage: France, French monarchy; hairdressers; passementiers
St. Methodius
Patronage: Ecumenism
St. Ninian
"Nothing is known about his teachings"
St. Olaf
Patronage: carvers; difficult marriage; kings
St. Pancras
"Pancras withdrew to a cave in Pontus where he was discovered by Saint Peter and was sent to Sicily in the year 40 to be the first Bishop of Tauromenium (the modern Taormina). There he met his death by stoning at the hands of pagan opponents of the new religion."
St. Quirinus
Patronage: invoked against the bubonic plague, smallpox, and gout; afflictions associated with the legs, feet, ears; paralysis; ulcers; goiter; skin conditions; diseases affecting cattle and horses
St. Rumbold
Attributes: Depicted as ... a bearded man with a hoe lying under his feet. He may also be shown murdered near a coffer of money.
St. Seiya
"Seiya is sent to the Sanctuary in Greece to become the Pegasus Saint. After six years, Seiya becomes the Pegasus Saint and returns to Japan to find his older sister. Because his sister disappeared the same day Seiya went to the Sanctuary, Saori Kido, the granddaughter of the person who sent all the orphans to train, makes a deal with him to go to fight in a tournament called the Galaxian Wars, where the orphans who survived and became Bronze Saints must fight to win the most powerful Cloth: The Sagittarius Gold Cloth. If Seiya goes to compete there and wins, Saori would start a search to find Seiya's sister."
St. Tail
"The first seven dubbed episodes were loosely based on the original dialogue and, perhaps in an act of political correctness, removed references to God. (This is especially awkward because the story follows students in a private religious school, and because Saint Tail's stealing is sinful to her religion, she always asks for God's forgiveness before a caper)."
St. Ursula
"The Huns shot Ursula dead"
St. Vitus
Patronage: actors; comedians; dancers; dogs; epilepsy; oversleeping
St. Wenceslaus
"There are many legends about King Wenceslaus. An old one claims a huge army of knights sleep inside Blaník, a mountain in the Czech Republic. The knights will awake and under the command of St. Wenceslaus and bring aid to the Czech people when they face ultimate danger"
St. Xenia
"She possessed a deep humility, accounting herself the worst and most sinful of all."
St. Yves
Patronage: Brittany, lawyers, abandoned children
St. Zeno
"According to legend he was stolen at birth and briefly replaced by a demonic changeling. One story relates that Saint Zeno, one day fishing on the banks of the Adige, which he did in order to feed himself (rather than as recreation), saw a peasant crossing the river in a horse and cart. The horses began to get strangely skittish. Zeno, believing this to be the work of the devil, made the sign of the cross, and the horses calmed down."
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
Sunday, 17 October 2010
Drafts - 4 messages
I ate porridge
I drank coffee
I left the house
I went to the library
I used the internet
I felt hostile towards the internet for wasting my time
The internet made me feel small and worthless
I went to the beach
I didn't know what I was doing
I got on a bus
I got off a bus
I walked through a country park
I walked through a farm
I walked up onto the downs
I walked to ditchling beacon
I watched everything for a long time
I could see where I used to work
I went back to the library
Every time I hang out
with groups of people
I remember how much I
like to be alone
I start to crave a simple
life in a bungalow
somewhere
I mean, i don't hate
people really
I don't mind talking
one-to-one with someone
and I like meeting new people
but to meet new people
you have to hang out
with more than
one person
and most of the time
i am just not willing to do that
there is a man that is always at the library
i know he doesn't work there
because if he did he would have been fired by now
he looks a bit like larry david with psoriasis
and less well kept
he always wears the same cap and is reading the guardian 80% of the time
I stood next to him at sainsbury's once
it was the first time i had seen him up close and outside the library
his shopping consisted of 'basics' corned beef, baked beans and a chocolate bar
felt like his soul was laid out on the conveyor belt
"Anterior to conventional means of expression, which reveal my thoughts to others already, for both myself and them, meanings are provided for each sign, and which in this sense do not give rise to genuine communication at all, we must, as we shall see, recognise a primary process of signification in which the thing expressed does not exist apart from the expression, and in which the signs themselves induce their significance externally."
I drank coffee
I left the house
I went to the library
I used the internet
I felt hostile towards the internet for wasting my time
The internet made me feel small and worthless
I went to the beach
I didn't know what I was doing
I got on a bus
I got off a bus
I walked through a country park
I walked through a farm
I walked up onto the downs
I walked to ditchling beacon
I watched everything for a long time
I could see where I used to work
I went back to the library
Every time I hang out
with groups of people
I remember how much I
like to be alone
I start to crave a simple
life in a bungalow
somewhere
I mean, i don't hate
people really
I don't mind talking
one-to-one with someone
and I like meeting new people
but to meet new people
you have to hang out
with more than
one person
and most of the time
i am just not willing to do that
there is a man that is always at the library
i know he doesn't work there
because if he did he would have been fired by now
he looks a bit like larry david with psoriasis
and less well kept
he always wears the same cap and is reading the guardian 80% of the time
I stood next to him at sainsbury's once
it was the first time i had seen him up close and outside the library
his shopping consisted of 'basics' corned beef, baked beans and a chocolate bar
felt like his soul was laid out on the conveyor belt
"Anterior to conventional means of expression, which reveal my thoughts to others already, for both myself and them, meanings are provided for each sign, and which in this sense do not give rise to genuine communication at all, we must, as we shall see, recognise a primary process of signification in which the thing expressed does not exist apart from the expression, and in which the signs themselves induce their significance externally."
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Following the arrows carved with
‘public footpath’
holding blind faith in
West Sussex County Council.
Through a field of yellow grass
as if someone had just taken off
a huge tarpaulin. Next to a golf course
I imitate the sound of a club
hitting a ball, using my tongue
and the roof of my mouth.
The ‘tcluck’ echoes over the field.
A manor house appears
unexpectedly, I think
must be used in films
and stare a while
until I leave to piss in a bush.
A dog running in circles,
agitated, confused, approaching
why am I there? It wants to know
searching for an answer
from its owner. but its
owner just ignores me.
He seems like he is working.
‘public footpath’
holding blind faith in
West Sussex County Council.
Through a field of yellow grass
as if someone had just taken off
a huge tarpaulin. Next to a golf course
I imitate the sound of a club
hitting a ball, using my tongue
and the roof of my mouth.
The ‘tcluck’ echoes over the field.
A manor house appears
unexpectedly, I think
must be used in films
and stare a while
until I leave to piss in a bush.
A dog running in circles,
agitated, confused, approaching
why am I there? It wants to know
searching for an answer
from its owner. but its
owner just ignores me.
He seems like he is working.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
this is not worth reading.
been lying on the floor, reading bobbie ann mason's 'love life' and listening to mid-west emo.
writing.
not writing.
hastings' pier burnt down, adding to the towns bleak seaside-town character.
as germans might say, hastings is where you would bury your dog.
i saw a dog riding a skateboard today.
he seemed happy.
everyone who saw the dog seemed happy.
people who saw the dog carried on walking, looking back at the dog over their shoulders, sometimes walking backwards with big grins, sharing their grins with loved ones or strangers in recognition of a dog riding a skateboard.
when the weather is nice a man across the road sit outside his front door in a fold-out garden chair, with a portable radio on the table and a tankard.
once i saw him launch out of his fold-out garden chair to stroke a passing cat, but the cat ran away.
saw rvivr the other day.
there was a terrible imbroglio that keeps on flashing back in my mind.
i was just a witness.
still, keep on replaying it, thinking 'oh no', sometimes swearing out loud at passing thoughts.
been lying on the floor, reading bobbie ann mason's 'love life' and listening to mid-west emo.
writing.
not writing.
hastings' pier burnt down, adding to the towns bleak seaside-town character.
as germans might say, hastings is where you would bury your dog.
i saw a dog riding a skateboard today.
he seemed happy.
everyone who saw the dog seemed happy.
people who saw the dog carried on walking, looking back at the dog over their shoulders, sometimes walking backwards with big grins, sharing their grins with loved ones or strangers in recognition of a dog riding a skateboard.
when the weather is nice a man across the road sit outside his front door in a fold-out garden chair, with a portable radio on the table and a tankard.
once i saw him launch out of his fold-out garden chair to stroke a passing cat, but the cat ran away.
saw rvivr the other day.
there was a terrible imbroglio that keeps on flashing back in my mind.
i was just a witness.
still, keep on replaying it, thinking 'oh no', sometimes swearing out loud at passing thoughts.
Saturday, 2 October 2010
I Am Very Likable
I am respectful of everyone.
I remember that everyone I'm interacting with is human, too.
I do things for other people, even if I don't know them.
I keep my promises.
I learn and use everybody's name.
I smile a lot.
I am myself.
I remember that everyone I'm interacting with is human, too.
I do things for other people, even if I don't know them.
I keep my promises.
I learn and use everybody's name.
I smile a lot.
I am myself.
Thursday, 30 September 2010
drunk poem
Late train to Hades
Feet raised, eyes closed
We are always descending
A plateau? No.
We are always descending
Feet risen, a forbidden position
Not totally unaccustomed (you know this from sleep)
to always be descending
Feet raised, eyes closed
We are always descending
A plateau? No.
We are always descending
Feet risen, a forbidden position
Not totally unaccustomed (you know this from sleep)
to always be descending
Thursday, 23 September 2010
Dear DJ
Hello. This is the picture I promised you. I'm sorry it's not very good. I had the flash on and didn't realise. And after that I was just embarrassed. I hope you are feeling better about Dallas. Book is going well. I am at 50 pages in notebook form and about 1/3 through synopsis.
Monday, 6 September 2010
Thursday, 22 July 2010
Questionnaire
- How many times have you sworn since tuesday?
- Have you ever lain in bed at night unable to stop thinking about something utterly embarrassing you did that day, occasionally reprimanding yourself out-loud?
- Gliding across a dance floor, were those shoes a bad choice?
- Are we all failed actors, unless we are successful actors?
- What do you think of Julia and Dave?
- Do you think it's going to burn all by itself?
- How're we gonna get there? Take a train?
- Enjoying your summer holiday, Iris?
- But you obtain moral satisfaction from your work?
- Delicious. Am I the first customer?
- Do you take precautions in locking up the truck?
- Could I sit on the veranda?
- Were you the one who broke it?
- She stood on a pedestal scanning the ocean?
- Are shopping center's to towns, what cathedrals are to city's?
- Are you walking back?
- What does she do for breakfast?
- Is it okay if I stay for a week or more?
- 10 years in a movie what does it all mean?
- Where will you ever arrive at?
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Hi,
The latest issue of WTF PWM is up. The reason I tell you is that I have a story in it. Go and read it, it is very funny.
I have been writing some 'nature' poems recently. I was thinking of printing them as a chapbook or something and calling it 'South Downs Syndrome', but I probably won't. I'll probably just post them on here in like a week or something. [edit: did this, then decided they weren't very good. new regret.]
Also, I had a story rejected recently. In the rejection email they said "While I thought there was some good writing and observations in the piece I thought it lack any real incident." Is this what people mean when they say "form without substance"? If you would like to read a story where nothing happens then get in touch and we can make those dreams of yours a reality.
Thanks.
The latest issue of WTF PWM is up. The reason I tell you is that I have a story in it. Go and read it, it is very funny.
I have been writing some 'nature' poems recently. I was thinking of printing them as a chapbook or something and calling it 'South Downs Syndrome', but I probably won't. I'll probably just post them on here in like a week or something. [edit: did this, then decided they weren't very good. new regret.]
Also, I had a story rejected recently. In the rejection email they said "While I thought there was some good writing and observations in the piece I thought it lack any real incident." Is this what people mean when they say "form without substance"? If you would like to read a story where nothing happens then get in touch and we can make those dreams of yours a reality.
Thanks.
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Sometimes I Read
A Goalie’s Anxiety at The Penalty Kick
I bought this from a second hand book shop in Balham the day England lost 4 – 1 to Germany in the Football World Cup. The shop keeper laughed out loud when he saw the title of the book. I turned to my friend who had taken me to the book shop and made a face as if to say, “get a load of this guy,” (although maybe not because I don’t think I’ve ever used that phrase). My friend asked me where I had heard of the book, after he read the synopsis on the back. Later we would discuss how the cover looks like the cover of an Adrian Mole book. It is a 1978 paperback edition, published by Quartet. As far as I can make out from their website, they have not reprinted it*.
On the back, the book is compared to L’Etranger. It’s an easy comparison to make. Both are short novels that deal with existential alienation and murder. But whereas Camus seems concerned with motive and consequence as well as alienation, Handke seems solely preoccupied with the emotional isolation of an ex-goal keeper, now murderer, Bloch. Bloch seems to have more in common with Michel Poiccard in Goddard’s A Bout De Souffle than Mersault.
Bloch seems to suffer from some sort of 'Depersonalisation Syndrome'. Handke combines Bloch’s inner thoughts and the third-person narration of the book to emphasise this. Here is an excerpt from towards the end of the books, where Handke makes use of Wingdings, or whatever the pre-Microsoft equivalent of Wingdings is:
“He repeated the look from left to right; this look seemed to him like reading. He saw a “wardrobe”, “then” “a” “waste-paper-basket”, “then” “a” “curtain”; while looking from right to left, however, he saw [chair], next to the [table].” etc...
* * *
The same day I bought the book, my friend and I went to a shop called Clapham Books. There was a shelf of Penguin’s ‘Great Ideas’ series. My friend made a comment which could have been, “Fucking love these.” I pointed to a copy of George Orwell’s Cigarette’s vs. Books and said “Yeah, this is really good.” Or something to that effect. He said, “I haven’t read this one.” I said, “No, I meant the cover,” as if that was what we were talking about all along. This moment has crossed my mind perhaps every day since then.
*Amazon tells me that Farrar Straus Giroux published the book in 2007
I bought this from a second hand book shop in Balham the day England lost 4 – 1 to Germany in the Football World Cup. The shop keeper laughed out loud when he saw the title of the book. I turned to my friend who had taken me to the book shop and made a face as if to say, “get a load of this guy,” (although maybe not because I don’t think I’ve ever used that phrase). My friend asked me where I had heard of the book, after he read the synopsis on the back. Later we would discuss how the cover looks like the cover of an Adrian Mole book. It is a 1978 paperback edition, published by Quartet. As far as I can make out from their website, they have not reprinted it*.
On the back, the book is compared to L’Etranger. It’s an easy comparison to make. Both are short novels that deal with existential alienation and murder. But whereas Camus seems concerned with motive and consequence as well as alienation, Handke seems solely preoccupied with the emotional isolation of an ex-goal keeper, now murderer, Bloch. Bloch seems to have more in common with Michel Poiccard in Goddard’s A Bout De Souffle than Mersault.
Bloch seems to suffer from some sort of 'Depersonalisation Syndrome'. Handke combines Bloch’s inner thoughts and the third-person narration of the book to emphasise this. Here is an excerpt from towards the end of the books, where Handke makes use of Wingdings, or whatever the pre-Microsoft equivalent of Wingdings is:
“He repeated the look from left to right; this look seemed to him like reading. He saw a “wardrobe”, “then” “a” “waste-paper-basket”, “then” “a” “curtain”; while looking from right to left, however, he saw [chair], next to the [table].” etc...
* * *
The same day I bought the book, my friend and I went to a shop called Clapham Books. There was a shelf of Penguin’s ‘Great Ideas’ series. My friend made a comment which could have been, “Fucking love these.” I pointed to a copy of George Orwell’s Cigarette’s vs. Books and said “Yeah, this is really good.” Or something to that effect. He said, “I haven’t read this one.” I said, “No, I meant the cover,” as if that was what we were talking about all along. This moment has crossed my mind perhaps every day since then.
*Amazon tells me that Farrar Straus Giroux published the book in 2007
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