Thursday, August 17, 2017


Major heat factor, thank goodness it was in the shade, otherwise your correspondent would at this moment be pink, very blotchy and still trying to get himself into a refrigerator. Meanwhile some in our town had a high noon moment with a number of preachers and the mayor. And it was all about trying to be sensible around common sense and decency with the occasional amen.

One issue had to do with the power of prayer. And as someone who has attempted to use prayer to wish things like death upon creatures like Hoppy Bug, I can with some confidence say there's a good chance prayer might not work in any kind of traditional way. All I can say is that if I ever do get new teeth I really hope some piss-ant with hard on for hurting others doesn't kick me in the mouth again.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017


Whether you go to Hegel for perfection, the Brahmins, the physicists, the astrologers, the interpretive dance people, almost anyone you can think of they're all looking for a universal principle. The idea there might not be one, hits a sour note in many of us, it suggests an excuse for hedonistic excess, the kind of debauchery that results in things like the vomitorium, plastic surgery and the list includes holocausts, English Boarding Schools, the Olympics, child molesting priests.... So it's all rather depressing for a more sensitive person with elegant wrists and no front teeth.

But one things for sure, the very idea of a world populated entirely by, or dominated by, white, protestant Anglo Saxon males produces a very adverse reaction in me. Not even Dante could have imagined such a circle in hell. Assimilate for god's sake, grow up, look at yourselves, the 1950's like Buddy Holly is long gone, and none of this "I just want to preserve the heritage of a slave owning aristocracy who fought a war to preserve slavery and lost."  And the thing about Universal Principles there's no wishy-washy about them they become righteous and blood drenched.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Mother of All

It's mind blowing. Might just as well be us peasants going on about the comings and goings at the Court of King John, who rumor has it died from drinking either bad, possibly poisoned, ale or from eating too many peaches. I find myself medieval, plotting the reintroduction of Town Square Stocks. Visualizing the act of throwing rotten eggs so they don't break in your hand. Wondering at the technical problems around filling a balloon, or a pigs bladder, with urine.

And for some reason recalling that back in the Medieval period the Ale Conner would check the quality of beer sold in bars and if it wasn't up to scratch they'd not only fine the Inn they'd also put up a sign which would drive the drinking classes elsewhere. There's an argument too that a Bo Peep was a person who warned the barman an Ale Conner was on the prowl. Either-way it's a somewhat time warped digression from wondering what flag flies over the current White House and how a person conjures the Goddess Kali. She's a long way from socks without sandals, she's the original "Mother of All" and not to be messed with.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Order of things

In furtherance my quest to comprehend I've spent far too much time with the lunatic fringe, much of it hasn't reached the dictionaries yet. And if you want to know the difference between the rightward leaning and the leftward leaning, it's the rightward leaning that makes a fetish out of violence. By fetish I mean the belief that the thing or the act has a religious or spiritual value, and by violence I mean the physical act of hurting or killing or torturing others. And often the devices used to hurt, kill or torture others are regarded with a neurotic reverence that someone like Freud has a lot to say about, some of it quite funny, but I'll tell you this much, raise it in the chat rooms and it does rather raise the hackles of the rightward leaning who despite rumor to contrary can be sensitive. It's a boy thing, I guess.

The other area of difference, apart from grammar and spelling, has to do with an understanding that in us people there is a natural order of things which either can or cannot be changed. So for example take the recent Google Memo. For those in doubt, the memo argued that women don't make good code writers, it's too tense or something, and the boy who wrote the memo was fired and he's now going on about Political Correctness, First Amendment, "Telling it like it is," he's crowd sourcing thousands of dollars, and might even get a job in the current White House. The rightward leaning tend to the idea that the reason women cannot make good code writers is because of the natural order of things. And it's we wishy-washy liberals who argue that the natural order of things sucks the big one, and something needs to be done about it sooner rather than later. All I can say is thank goodness I don't have to even contemplate the ordeal of giving birth, or write code for the Devil's Monopoly that is Google, or walk around carrying a bloody great bit of metal in order to feel whole.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

New Age

As a person who holds fast to the view that not only does an Angel of Greed live in his barn, but also believes a small round member of the Elfin-kind regularly absconds with wrenches, hammers, spirit levels and half inch screws, I think it safe to say that I understand what it's like to be surrounded by the wretched and evil who spend much of their existence plotting the downfall of a good, honest and decent gardener who sometimes has to address the foibles of geriatric mechanical devices which themselves could well be in league with Medical, Dental and Mail Order Hardware Professionals.

The other, very frustrating, point is that few believe me when I tell them why buying another 3/8th wrench is a waste of good money because it's like a magnet to Elves and will soon disappear. Instead, most tell me that tidiness, discipline and a degree of objectivity is a much better cure for paranoid and delusional behavior than lunatic ranting and raving. Nor do they take seriously my argument that paranoia is a New Age and increasingly fashionable leadership quality that should be respected rather than laughed at. And No, the Angel of Greed doesn't have wings, he just sits there polishing his finger nails.

Friday, August 11, 2017


When you think about it, back in 1914, it was the act of a single assassin that tipped the souls of the powerful toward solving their family quarrels by plunging the world into the First World War.

It was going to be a straight forward masculine confrontation that would probably be over in a couple of months. Four years later a peace treaty was signed that in many ways was so unsatisfactory it laid the foundations for the Second World War.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Data Issues

Not a big fan of the regional internet provider. Nor am I that certain the voice at the other end of the service line isn't actually a real life, overly detail oriented person with a somewhat Anglo Saxon sense of humor pretending to be machine of some sort. Having spent many sometimes frustrating hours with the voice we have developed a relationship that has enabled me to know what he might say next and oddly I rather look forward to talking to him.

When the time comes for him to say "Is there anything else I can help you with" my instincts were to simply remain polite. More recently I've given up the niceties and have begun to question the validity of his sense of self in an attempt to better understand what existence in the singularity might be like for us mortals. It's a tricky business because invariably the voice replies "Hold on, while I transfer you." Interestingly while I'm on hold, between songlets of the elevator kind, I am sternly warned that calls are sometimes monitored and my patience is much appreciated.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017


The question of whether our hero has had a rabies vaccination yet again rears its ugly head. Occasionally a writer of pulp has to sweat the details, not something that comes easily, but when everything is said and done there is no other pox which according to several myths turns a victim into the creature that bit him, her or it.

At the same time I'm keenly aware that 99.9% of the reason I have failed to pursue the Rabies Issue further has to do with an incontinent technical device which eighteen odd months ago chewed up, swallowed and by digesting the first drafts and notes of Book Seven caused months possibly years of work to vanish. Either way, whether he likes it or not, our hero is going to be bitten by a rabid Mink.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017


Mickey Mouse and Donald Trump have one thing in common. In drug culture the two names are used in the methamphetamine trade. Mind you, if someone with a distant look in their eye mentions Nancy Pelosi they could well be on the hunt for LSD. And I guess some might already know that good old fashioned weed is often called Nixon.

Beyond the world of code names for illicit substances our president has several nicknames. "Agent Orange" is pretty good. There's a rumor he's called "Donny Two Minutes" in the West Wing of the White House, something about the man's attention span. My own absolute favorite nickname for our president falls somewhere between "Der Gropenfuhrer" and "The Mango Mussolini." Ain't freedom great, let's make it last.

Monday, August 7, 2017

Profits and Prophets

For those who might not know it, massive investments in infrastructure, could well have produced over sixty million unoccupied apartments in China. Each one is for sale but each one is well beyond the means of the average wage earner.

Here in the west where there is no command economy, high praise for the rising price of stocks is more often than not a prelude to the sort of exuberance that produces millions of unoccupied apartment buildings. Call me Jeremiah, if you wish to.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Angelic Host

Never have liked Sunday and at the same time think it quite wrong that anyone should have to work on Sunday. When I am God, should I be able to prevent myself from starting this whole life upon earth experiment over again, I will smite in a mighty kind of way anyone I happen to notice working on Sunday and I will also do some serious smiting of anyone who expects someone else to work on Sunday. That includes everyone, there'll be no exceptions, not even for gardeners who have stuff like canning to do.

More interesting perhaps is why I don't like Sunday. I'll give you examples. Visit the Grocery Store after Churches have done their Sunday best and there's a stuffed full car park, a bunch of well dressed, fine smelling people with lists and appallingly behaved children racing around with loaded shopping carts, it's a total irritation. I remember an old man of the Muslim faith telling me that God being an Almighty clearly caused creation in an instant, none of this dragging it all out over six days and resting on the seventh. Yes indeed, as God I will take pride in being both irrational and intolerant.

Saturday, August 5, 2017


Starlings, one of the species of bird rumored to have been introduced to the USA by a big fan of Shakespeare because to his genteel and theatrical sensitivities Central Park in the city of New York just had to be a home for all the bird species mentioned in Shakespeare's plays, are beginning to Flock.

You see them in small silent groups heading in straight lines to nowhere in particular. When it starts to get colder their flock will join with others and as they do so they will begin to chatter. When the frost comes they'll be a joyous cloud of thousands, and love them or hate them their dance in the sky before the roost is a sight to see.

Friday, August 4, 2017


Wasn't easy, the word potlatch was mentioned on more that one occasion but after a long and sometimes emotional discussion with our hero a decision has been reached. The Vestry of Monnow, or book seven, will fall to an end point at that moment when our hero succeeds in winning his place in the Tri-County Mental Asylum of Afon-Bedd.

One reason for this shift of emphasis is that while your writer of pulp is an enthusiastic fan of using lunatic asylums as perfect venues for the exploration of social cohesion, it has of late been all just a little too close to the bone for our incredibly quarrelsome hero. The decision does mean that in the meanwhile book seven will require a new title. Gwningen and Giovanni, I thought. However, difficult nights ahead, our hero disagrees with the title

Thursday, August 3, 2017


There's a theory that if you vote for somebody it arranges the brain cells around the idea of betrayal in the way that a blood oath or a baptism does. Not certain where this theory comes from, might even have emulated our president and just made it up, but nonetheless I suspect the theory has some merit. And here I'll take myself as an example of the sort of intense stubbornness of mind that results in tribal affiliation rather than anything that remotely follows the patterns of reasonable debate that so often depend upon degrees of open-mindedness, not something we geriatrics are famous for during times of great change.

It has to do with what's been called Companion Planting. Plants, the argument goes, have preferences with respect to other plants, they can be picky about their neighbors, put a Bean next to Radish and they both sulk, spend most of their season quarreling. No one likes Good King Henry, what some call Lamb's Quarter, call it bullying if you wish to. Companion Planting was in my view a totally absurd theory and under no circumstances was I, nut-eater in good standing, prepared to tolerate that sort of anti-social behavior as I went about ridding the garden paths of Creeping Grass by pouring boiling water over it. Yet this year, of the Tomato, those planted in a curtain of Carrot are doing very much better than those which are not. Depressing, I'd say yes.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017


Your correspondent has no front teeth at the moment. It's like old times, a good wide grin at the bourgeoisie sends them running, they see it as yet another symptom of the low moral character found in the poor, the illiterate and the mentally unstable.

I kind of like the look, makes me feel rugged and self reliant, will definitely take it shopping, to the bank, the Post Office, and always best not to try using a credit card or a check. If memory serves, with a look like mine, cash is king.