Monday, January 7, 2019

Insane Influences

In the grand scheme my own developing allergic reactions to the color red, almost at the point of developing hives, it'll be boils soon enough, doesn't mean a great deal. Nonetheless I do my bit for Justice and the American way. In N scale there are just a few remaining recalcitrant power centers against which I will take our orders of eminent domain to deprive them of their properties unless they get with the program and change the color of their roofs, but then there's the problem of walls which are a central plank in a vision of Gormenghast that haunts my dreaming hours, we're talking 2am until around 6am. It doesn't happen often but if there's a useful conclusion I remain happily snoring under the blankets until the Girl Cat checks me for a pulse, an adrenalin surge if ever there was one. 

I've tried everything. I've tried thinking of walls as retaining walls, privacy walls, ornamental walls, theatrical walls but the sad fact is a wall is a wall, and most especially something like octagonal towers of any sort are pretty much a metaphor for the kind of ensconced tyranny that's running out of people to poke with sticks. My current thinking is deep in a Wonder of the Ancient World described as a major feat of engineering that comprised ascending tiered gardens, Date and Palm trees, vegetable plots, vines and plenty, all amidst a riot of bloom. It was a mountain for plants built on mud bricks, never the like of it seen again, except maybe in Bali. Trouble is Gormenghast is more of boiled sausage place, a preoccupation with laundry, a snuffling social status, not a plant to be seen except the root vegetables, beetroots bleeding on the kitchen tables. If I was skilled enough, I could build it as a ruin under which trains pass.

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