Monday 30 April 2007

Strange Lights in the Sky (Part 1)

Opportunity sometimes comes from the most unlikely of sources.

I mean, if you are anything like me, you throw yourself one hundred and fifty percent into something, focus like a laser and smash down the walls of Jericho with a toffee hammer and spoon, until you have reached your goal in a blaze of triumphant tub-thumping and orgasmic waves of gristle.

But lo, what's this?

Whilst you were trebucheting yourself over the escarpment again and again and again, behind you, trying to get your attention is a very large billboard saying 'this way please'.

A few years ago in the late summer/ early autumn I was not a happy bunny. Everything that had been going right in terms of momentum, career etc, had suddenly started going kerwrong, because I had taken my eye off the ball etc etc (insert other trite metaphor here).

One day, it was a thursday or friday in September, I was walking up the top of Grays Inn Road in Kings Cross, London, where I was living at the time, seemingly the weight of the world on my shoulders, when a voice popped into my head.

'You should buy The Stage you know'.

The Stage for anyone wondering, is the leading 'theatrical' newspaper in the world and sometimes has a few 'Situations Vacant' jobs listed in it, in amongst the looky-likey Elvis impersonators and ads for strippers to go to Greece and Turkey.

Anyway I carried on walking down Euston Road pissed off, thinking too much, deep in self-immolation.

'You should buy the Stage you know' came the voice again.

I turned around and looked across the race track that is the Euston Road/ Pentonville Road dissolve, at the newstand where I always bought my magazines etc.

Should I bother? I mean there's never anything in it, that's why I haven't bought it for a couple of months, I mean really, what's the point?

(More in Part 2 that follows, sometime)

Wednesday 25 April 2007

Who Were You Today?

Walking along the beach in the dark, the water lapping at our beautiful Welsh shore, I was struck by how nature lulls us one minute and buffets us the next.

The pebbles under my feet, were once boulders and will one day be sand and glass. The driftwood pieces wedged into cracks and strewn over the high water line were once part of great ships, of houses, trees and ballustrades.

The water itself playing here in Carmarthen Bay may well of come from many miles away, other continents, other places.

God's eye cracks no tears just wise when asked for all the answers. No great portent casts its way down the wire to ever eager souls in situ. Nope, nothing external was forthcoming.

Do the monks on Caldy (Ynys Byr) pray for their own redemption as much as ours. In their darkest moments do they stare into the great unknown and just slightly, imperceptibly, shudder.

Who were you Today?

Friday 20 April 2007

The Fool of Bute Park pt3

I sat there for at least an hour on the wall at the corner of The Boulevard de Nantes in front of the museum gardens, opposite Park Plaza Hotel, immobilised by thought, thinking about someone something some situation.

What if? Maybe? Touched very deeply and feeling it so.

Not strictly in Bute Park I know, but close enough to be the Fool anyway and close enough for my arse to eventiually go so numb that my only connection with the universe was the feeling of being compacted.

Then I led under a Pine Tree and listened to snippets of conversation.

Cardiff was buzzing and felt like a real city(again), as people lolled about in the sun, or kicked balls around in front of the museum.

I watched the people in their spring and summer finery, they all seemed so happy, with a sense of distinct purpose and I wondered whether it was all true, or whether it was 'front', 'keeping up appearances'? What hidden neuroses lay dormant below their surface?

Is it better to strive for your own way in the world or is it better to knuckle under, knuckle down? It's a question that I have asked myself everyday for a long time.

What tastes better? Success on your own terms? Or the Stability that a regular lifestyle provides? Does that stability in itself have a price to pay, a compromise to keep?

I feel and think too much and apparently ignorance is bliss.

I love bliss but have never been particularly fond of ignorance.

I am not a dreamer.

Sunday 15 April 2007

Couldn't Even Get a Job Writing Porno Movies

A Few Years ago I wrote a Porno Movie satire about a girl with an unfeasibly large arse who becomes a world celebrity icon and a symbol of hope for humanity. I still feel that it's a great idea.

It would of been, like the arse, huge in Italy.

Needless to say its radical retake upon the whole hump 'n' grind movie scene did not-unlike the heroine-go down well with the sort of companies who make regular smut. Shame.

It would be a shining star of genius in what is otherwise a morass of excremedia.

Lately I was reminded of this Movie idea by watching two people having sex in a car.

I must pointout that it was not my purpose to actually watch two people blitzkrieging, but I walked along a very quiet lane at night and there in my eyeball was a couple of arses bouncing about boing boing boing in the back of a very nice Red Subaru.

Now, you know the way that eating an entire box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts is very bad for you (do they still sell them in Kings Cross Tesco's I wonder?) but you still do it anyway?

As that orgasmic hit of carbo-pleasure is sailing it's way down those grooves at the side of your mouth next to your tongue that provide salivation, you know that in about twenty minutes you will be hanging off the lampshade doing Clive the Gorilla impressions (or is that just me?).

Anyway there's me transfixed, watching this fellas big arse smudging against the window whilst he delves into a woman smeared somewhere below him, the car squidging on its suspension-four wheel drive very good for that sort of thing I should imagine-and I thought back to my foray into the Porn world a few years earlier and all the dodgy geezers that I had contact with and how I could still smell the pomade and easylube.

I was snapped out of my trance by a woman on a bicycle coming past me and shouting 'pervert'.

Bloody cheek, me a pervert, i'm not the one making stains on the turbo racing seats am I? Bastards.

Wednesday 11 April 2007

The Hero Perishes with Dignity for the Sake of the Radiant Future


For life to have meaning.

We must rise above the mundane mapped out mediocrity that existence has become and be, even for just a moment, truly alive.

To let the full scale and scope of an un-ending universe into our feeble animal brain soup. We must experience everything real in an instance.

Metaphysical Bollocks? (Oh look a Photo).

Sunday 8 April 2007

Malteaser Angry Mob

Has the world turned to idiocy whilst my back was turned? Or am I just turning into a snob who thinks that he has better taste than the rest of 'them'?

It's always stated that if you feel disturbed, get excited because that's when a change is coming. Often i'm overexcited you can tell by the way I walk.

Apparently energy in men rises up the kundalini pathway in the spine and when it gets to the heart chakra it brings up many many issues to do with emotions, love etc.

Christ alive the secret to life is not another plasma screen TV you idiots!

(well maybe a Plasma screen TV to play games on with your kids or friends to share some amazing experiences is...but you get my point don't you??).

It's like 'Dawn of the Dead' without the comedy bits. (The original Romero/ Savini one you chav!)

Q) Seriously why does everything have to be bloody complicated?
A) I know I know, it's journey to achieving the goal and what it makes of us as people.