of the seven deadly sins, the eighth and worst by far is emotional blackmail ... the diligent practise of this subtle and ancient art creates a constantly evolving darwinistic moral vacuum in which the brightest new manipulative ideas and stratagems flourish ... and which only you, or i, can fill !
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
duende ... a startling sign in back-street worthing
Monday, April 16, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
i burned the porridge ...
... whilst searching the internet for a video of lola flores
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8Sdjf4IzmU&mode=related&search=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8Sdjf4IzmU&mode=related&search=
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Friday, April 06, 2007
3bt
Yesterday morning, tiptoeing out to work at three forty-five, I forgot to take my camera. Naturally, I was assailed by beauty.
Driving west along the Chelsea embankment at six, in a clear still morning, the gold of the Battersea peace pagoda was reflected in a vertical yellow band upon the high surface of the smooth river, and beside it was the pale orange reflection of the setting moon, & as I drove further, so the two reflections gently swapped places as the moon's orange reflection, in pursuing me, overtook that of the pagoda.
Later, during a delivery in the precincts of the Chelsea football stadium, I found a long rough wall was being clad in a vinyl poster ... a massive team photo, the players at the centre, their bodies then repeatedly “photoshopped” ad infinitum to right and left, superimposed with the heads of hundreds of their supporters. In front of this larger than life-sized and perpetually silent audience, two coach loads of schoolchildren from France had just arrived, adolescent girls & boys, they had poured out of their confinement with a football & were playing their own beautiful impromptu game of soccer in the sunshine.
As I was going home on the bus, drained of energy after a difficult day, a lively teenage girl got on with a brand new push chair and a brand new baby. Sitting in the next seat, sharply profiled in the late low sunlight, she lifted him in her arms and kissed his tiny face, smaller than my fist, about twenty times, alternately on one cheek and then the other. He accepted the compliment with good grace.
Driving west along the Chelsea embankment at six, in a clear still morning, the gold of the Battersea peace pagoda was reflected in a vertical yellow band upon the high surface of the smooth river, and beside it was the pale orange reflection of the setting moon, & as I drove further, so the two reflections gently swapped places as the moon's orange reflection, in pursuing me, overtook that of the pagoda.
Later, during a delivery in the precincts of the Chelsea football stadium, I found a long rough wall was being clad in a vinyl poster ... a massive team photo, the players at the centre, their bodies then repeatedly “photoshopped” ad infinitum to right and left, superimposed with the heads of hundreds of their supporters. In front of this larger than life-sized and perpetually silent audience, two coach loads of schoolchildren from France had just arrived, adolescent girls & boys, they had poured out of their confinement with a football & were playing their own beautiful impromptu game of soccer in the sunshine.
As I was going home on the bus, drained of energy after a difficult day, a lively teenage girl got on with a brand new push chair and a brand new baby. Sitting in the next seat, sharply profiled in the late low sunlight, she lifted him in her arms and kissed his tiny face, smaller than my fist, about twenty times, alternately on one cheek and then the other. He accepted the compliment with good grace.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
i dreamed about my parents ...
i think our dreams only take a few seconds to happen, even when they seem long & complicated
in this one, i was walking in a sunlit park with an unseen friend, besides a large level expanse of lawn backed by dark trees
i caught sight of my parents walking side-by-side across the grass & looking very happy & relaxed
surprisingly, they looked younger, perhaps in their early forties, and rather prosperous ... well-dressed & well groomed
and i said to my invisible friend something like ...
"i know they are only ghosts, but would you mind if we just stop and watch them until they fade away ?"
in this one, i was walking in a sunlit park with an unseen friend, besides a large level expanse of lawn backed by dark trees
i caught sight of my parents walking side-by-side across the grass & looking very happy & relaxed
surprisingly, they looked younger, perhaps in their early forties, and rather prosperous ... well-dressed & well groomed
and i said to my invisible friend something like ...
"i know they are only ghosts, but would you mind if we just stop and watch them until they fade away ?"
Friday, March 30, 2007
advanced diagnosis exercises
Q At what point might the patient first have questioned his own sanity ?
A The patient, X, was seen cooking some expensive pork sausages on a Friday evening.
He was then observed searching his fridge for HP Sauce.
Finding none, he was heard speaking in a re-assuring tone, although no one else was present, uttering the words,
"I suppose a little Branston Pickle never did any one any harm !"
A The patient, X, was seen cooking some expensive pork sausages on a Friday evening.
He was then observed searching his fridge for HP Sauce.
Finding none, he was heard speaking in a re-assuring tone, although no one else was present, uttering the words,
"I suppose a little Branston Pickle never did any one any harm !"
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
passing battersea power station on the way to work ... a thought occurred ...
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
the price of fish
waiting in the line at john's mobile fish stall in the village of horsted keynes last friday morning
sez little old well-heeled lady, a poor imitation of the queen's lady-in-waiting ... "i'll have blah blah blah, please ... er, um, is it expensive ?"
sez wheezy old cockney john, voice deeper than the northern line, a sweet man who should have retired fifteen years ago ... "all my fish is expensive madam, because i only buy the best !"
and he does !
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