Wednesday, 2 December 2015

16.10 - 8.11

16.10 - 18.10

Was sent this photo from a few years ago of a monster of me created by my friend Helen Makes


She can make one of these of anyone you like so you can order members of family etc.   Maybe for Xmas.

19.10 - 20.10 

= + = = = =

Everything can seem to stay the same.  Interminable except for the gradual sliding into deeper decay and the upward lifts into hope for prosperity and conquest.  Though things sometimes happen to remind you that things do change very abruptly and very interestingly.  This is called winning.  

21.10 - 22.10

The world I live in at the moment is a cartoon world.  A colorful but deeply self important cartoon.  The larger political events are mere backdrops of world building to make my environment more realistic and immersive to the viewer.  Most of the other humans are mere non player characters.

This is the lie that I manage to sell to very stupid people.  I sell it to myself.

It makes things feel a bit more epic.

23 - 25.10

The man asked me for money.
I told him he didn't need it. The world of matter and substance will never make him happy. To attain true happiness he had to search within himself. He must go towards the divine light of every creation myth from the Demiurge to the Big Bang. All forms are shadows from a fire of which our souls are but impermanent and dancing embers... encircled in darkness.
The man asked me for drugs.

The Cloud of Unknowing

26.10 - 27.10

Winter doesn't ever seem to arrive and I like winter.


So instead I take very cold looking photographs.  And I look at cold diagrams.

28.11 - 1.11

William Brady wanted to fulfil his genetic imperative and have lots of children with lots of different women. He very much liked the popularized opinions of Richard Dawkins. Unfortunately though, he was psychopath, and had intimacy issues, so he didn';t like to engage in physical relationships. Even if he was only touching people with his hands he preferred to do it whilst wearing rubber gloves... also he preferred to punch and kick people.
William decided to utlize modern technology in order to spread his genetic code across the world. He visited as many sperm banks as possible and deposited samples with them under many different aliases. Within 20 years his sperm was probably about 25% of the entire worlds sperm bank supply.
Many thousands of women gave birth to the children of William Brady. All these children were slightly lacking something in terms of affection and joy. They all felt as if there was something unanswered about them... that they needed to discover themselves. They also felt the need to crush humanity into the dirt.
At the age of 64, William Brady was visited by increasing numbers of his offspring. The were always so happy when they learnt what a swell guy their father was. It seemed to explain everything. As the years passed more and more of them started to move to William's bungalow. Tents erected all over town for the many who couldn't fit themselves in. William and his children hatched plans and within 6 months most of the non Bradys of the world were destroyed. The Bradys killed us all with germ warfare, guns, bombs but mostly clever spreading of disinformation and panic through social media. At first, William Brady could not decide whether to call his new world order "The Brady Bunch" or "The Imperative". In the end he went for the latter. Less glib.
At the age of 94 William Brady, encased in an iron lung, finally dies. His children still weep for the "All-Father" many generations later. The brothers and sisters rut on the streets over the skeletons and dust of the dead. William Brady's statue looking over them as The Imperative expands year by year.

2.11 - 3.11

My new favourite shirt.

3.11 - 4.11

The oldest statue in the universe is of The PeaceMaker. It stands in the centre of Athens, the capital city of the cosmos where everyone is free to sit and think and do nothing. This is because there is no threat of war anywhere. There has never been any threat of war. If you were to threaten me with war then The PeaceMaker would appear in the air between us. Poised in his tight jeans and check shirt and cowboy hat... he would circle around his antique revolver ready to shoot, looking us both in the eye and working out which one of us was a warmonger.
Then he would shoot you.
The PeaceMaker is never wrong. He travels up and down the time streams gunning down any person, thing or group that would like to have a fight. I believe he is from an alternate universe, one which is full of death and destruction and big, terrible weapons.
Every night I thank The PeaceMaker for keeping us safe from one another and for killing those of us who have big ideas about themselves.

6.11 - 8.11

Maggots hatch discreetly from his carpet. An implausible reaction to a lack of insects. They must be living somewhere underneath the surface. The atomized polymer barrier of between spaces. He pours a large pan of boiling water all over the carpet but none of it reaches the floorboards. It absorbs into the underlayer of pizza crusts and eggs. The heat boiling the insect foetuses into a subtle holocaust of squelching stench.
Stood in the kitchen, he turns off the oven. It is empty.


Sunset on the summer.  We will now gradually decline into restlessness and dark and tell ourselves that it is the fault of winter.