The FUTURE

We're all bald... from birth. All over. Material items and values will not exist. OR, will have saturated every aspect of our beings. Posthuman?

The PAST

Lark Rise to Candleford.


Extract from The Lore, by Paul Pouthwaite, known to locals in the north-east of Yorkshire as the Wacky Acky author, being of the town of Acklam, a land of many oaks. 2011 looks set to be a big year after his work was described by the European literary 'bible', Das Buch, as '...social commentary that examines the past and future, but totally excludes the present.'

DISCUSS

Listening material 12th-17th September

I have rediscovered The Boss this week with the "Greatest Hits" finally reaching my ears via my mp3 player. Possibly a lazy choice of album but certainly a practical and structured listening experience for my daily hour long journey to work. I have been trying to redefine exactly what it is about Bruce which I admire so greatly. Then I concluded. Soul.

Email of the evening.

I just received this through my inbox from someone I haven't spoke to in five or six years. I'm guessing the chap didn't write it himself. The boundaries of decency forced me to change the name of the victim to Alvin Sawdust.

Hi everyone!

Just so you all know, I am a big fat disgusting piggie who likes sleeping with old German lady goths behind my girlfriend's back.

Because of this, I decided to change my name by deed poll to 'Disgusting Pig'. I now go by that name. It was a toss up between 'hairy monkey', 'lizard breath' and 'Disgusting Pig' and well, Gem's friends decided the latter was the best.

I agree as Hairy Monkey sounds quite cute and I am not!

I hope you all won't be too saddened by this news as I thrive on the adoration of others and need approval at all times.

Its my weakness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'd like to share with you a few things I LOVE doing...like shoving coke (cocaine...Charlie....nose candy) up my big fat

piggie schnoz, its class, but SHHH, don't tell my dad!!!!!

I also like telling lies, writing shit songs and trying to sing (I've been told I'm like a young Michael Bolton)

I also need to warn the ladies that I like my puny penis rubber free, so diseases are a daily occurrence with me. Only genital warts so far (I'm hoping for Herpes by the time the year is out) , but after the Kraut, who knows!

Well anyway chaps, I'd best get going!

Tally ho!

Alvin Sawdust...Sorry, I mean DISGUSTING PIG, this name change thing is hard!
x

Boxes - part one

Explanation coming to a blog near you soon. In the meantime please enjoy my friend Modest circa 2001-2002.

Automatic writing: the start

Time for some background on James and his (apparently) haunted workplace.

He's 24, same as me, and works in a reference library in Yorkshire - won't say where as its a council operation. However, the library isn't the building in question.

Next door but-one is a storehouse for books and items that are either new and waiting to be catalogued, no longer current but still of use, or resting whilst in transit. Its probably best described by the man himself:

"A dusty old shell, full of things that are in-between places. Stuff waiting an eternity for something to happen."

Its worth mentioning that the building is an old converted chapel.

Anyway, two months ago, James was told he'd be cataloging the entire reference stock for a new library, meaning he'd be spending a lot of time there. Our lad, somewhat disgruntled after being given this monotonous task, was instantly taken around to the Old Chapel - as it is known - by his line manager. After punching in the door security code (nobody is based there, and staff just pop in and out when necessary, which isn't very often) they entered into a small office area; a more recent addition to the rear of the actual chapel. Proceeding through a few short and dimly lit corridors, they quickly reached the door to the storage stack, and stopped.

"Are you sure you'll be alright in here by yourself?" his line manager asked, with only the slightest concern in her soft voice. Puzzled, he told me he'd went to answer but...

"Because some people don't like being in here by themselves."

James laughed when telling me this bit. Said he looked at her and snorted.

"Well you brought me here. What, is it haunted or something?" and made haunted drip with comic horror.

The line manager, an ex-army nurse who dressed youthfully but some would say appropriately for her early fifties, and recently promoted to cover three other branches, looked him straight in the eye. He saw the fingers on her right hand absently twirl a tassle hanging from her belt. The left side of her mouth with its vivid crimson lips hung down awkwardly.

"Some members of staff say it can get... they feel a bit odd in there, so if you get uncomfortable or something happens then just leave. There's no rush on the job. Ok?"

James told me: "She's never as serious as that, especially over something as daft as ghosts. It unnerved me a bit, and before I could say Ok, she'd gone. I think she felt silly, or embarrassed."

Continuing with the story, he pushed open the heavy fire door and instantly tasted dust. The lad was inside.

Things were moving everywhere!

Shadows from the trees outside scuttled eerily across silent avenues of books, resting on shelves over 12 feet high. Rusting burgler-bars spread across plain yet typically large windows, suppressing the already poor light from outside as the courthouse and another building stood near on either side. Above were modern rafters and a kind of make-shift mezzanine that was halfway to the original wooden ceiling, barely visible in the murk. James said the darkness up there worried him, as it looked sort of thick. Patches of shade slid around within this cloud, just on the edge of vision.

Shortly after he entered that old place of worship, within cold walls the colour of snowclouds... things had made themselves known. Before he could even find the lightswitch, shades and shapes had approached.

He ran.

Automatic writing: image 2 of 3, drawn post-seance

I've posted the second one straight away as the first was rubbish. This goes towards validating the existence of an entity in the Old Chapel. Again, I think James (the guy who drew these following a seance in a supposedly haunted building, if you're just joining us) is having a laugh... although, I've never seen him quite so serious about something. Probably just an accomplished wind-up merchant.