Saturday, 14 February 2015

Fruit Beyond Price

I'm reading a book that cost seventeen quid and I'm not sure what fifty percent of its sentences mean. The first of its two introductions says style is a complicated terrain. Everything in the following two hundred pages sounds absolutely something. The style is uphill underwater. The plan is, after I'm done, to read an article about the book that sums it up in five or six sentences, and adopt these, garnished with a couple of go-to obscenities, as my uncompromising and sexy opinion, should I ever be asked what I learned from spending nearly five pints' worth of quids on a rectangle full of words, and what on earth the point of all the effort and expense might've been, and whether or not I'm sorry.

Saturday, 7 February 2015

Nixon Affinity Brunch

Forgetful Martin came round, fixed a cupboard door and talked about roofing and memory lapses. I've found that if I'm worried about forgetting something, one thing that can help is to apply the meaningful end of a pen or pencil to some paper and make a shape or series of shapes that will evoke the thing to be remembered, and lacking the ability to draw anything that looks like what it's supposed to look like, I most often resort to aligning little groups of "letters" into "words" that describe the thing to be remembered, and, if necessary, underneath these "words",  other shapes called "numbers", that represent the "time" by which the thing to be remembered is to be remembered. Or if you're in the future you could chisel these words and numbers into the little yelping screen that lives in your pocket and abrades your thighs whenever a deadline looms large enough. Just some ideas Martin. He became a mumbling mist and rose through the ceiling, leaving a faint brown smudge and the smell of incompleteness.

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

To Help

I go to the section where the magazines about books live. I ooze hope. The American ones - Onslaught, Paragraph, The Wagon - twitch their corners and rustle their edges. The English ones - Mmmhmm, Apt, The Brow - stare at my mouth and sniff. I take all six to the counter and ask the fragrant young waltzer which one will make me feel like its purchase is a small part of what I should be doing with my life. Halfway through the sentence she puts one hand on my collar and the other on the back of my head and says it's all on the internet, everything is on the internet, if it doesn't light up it's not worth looking at, get out, get out of my area.

Monday, 12 January 2015


Thank you for applying for the position of Incidence Participant / Smooth Running Officer / Facilitation Enabler. Your warped and howling brains did not, on this occasion, after careful consideration, etc. The questions you answered less correctly than was desirable were: If a man tells you he's just eaten a kingfisher, who do you phone first? What demographic has the highest incidence of scurvy? And which mediocrities do you say you admire in order to reduce the chance of being thought of as pretentious?
Your details have been passed to the Ministry of Explosions, who will be in touch shortly.

Monday, 5 January 2015

I Can Explain

I got trapped in a well and Sarah's arms fell off and also there were some manufacturing/delivery undesirables so we've whacked the jackanory back to Christmas 2015 yes 2015, to ensure its readiness and frightening dominance, a lot like when Nasty Ways was on dubplate for eighteen months and when they finally let people buy it Dillinja became prime minister for a week which is why everything is fine now, and if you don't remember this it's because either you were too far away or you had the wrong ears. It's not too late.

Saturday, 20 December 2014

Built-in Stick

One seventy-nine.
Is it?
Is late night price.
Round corner they charge two.
It must be Christmas.
Like gangster. But queues for it.
I'll get you a queue.
They scared to come.
You seem quite friendly.
Is bad area. Students get hat punched.
That's terrible.
I try make peace. I lose courgettes. What can I do?
You can give me the penny.
So I can start saving for next time.
Sorry. Because conversation.
It's okay, it's okay.
I think sometimes not well.
Me too.
Have a good night.
I have.
In your home now.
I'll try. There's a mouse though.
Oh fucking shit.
I'm worried it wants to sleep with me.
You need trap. You send it to God.
I'm trying to attract a cat.
You have a good night.

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

Quite Some Rush

I am ferociously excited to announce a big new thing:

A 16-page book and 7" record package, being a three-voiced written, illustrated, soundtracked-and-jackanoried seasonal story, entitled Tinselsnakes and featuring the vocals of B. Dolan, the music of Buddy Peace, and the illustrations of Sarah Inkymole Coleman.

Right now the audio's a free download, and as soon as someone punches the big green button in the pressing plant, the whole package'll be available, for yourself and your friends and your children's children's children, etc.

The website is here. It has details.

The people if y'didn't know:

B.Dolan did this about houses and this about names.

Buddy Peace did this about Tom Waits and this about pudding.

Sarah did this about To Kill A Mockingbird and this about Copper Gone.

I've admired all these people for years and it's amazing to hear and see what they did with the words.

As soon as the whole thing's available I'll crash a foghorn into your life. Until then enjoy the audio and thanks and thanks again for your time.