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All dreams begin and end with an elipsis… …so I’m feeling a bit lonely right now. My friends have all bummed off and left me to entertain myself, except one who I’m just walking up to the top floor of the hotel to say goodbye to, before I go and find something to do. We get to the top floor, and it’s a bit like an modernist pub, with banquette seating and high windows that show arid, impossible old mountains scraping at the air. It turns out my friend is meeting a buncha people including Peter Kay, the northern comedian, so I do my balloon trick (something involving a highly-inflated balloon and pratfalls, as far as I can remember) and Peter Kay outdoes me, without even getting up, by punning about balloons, whilst doing a trick where the balloon cord is trapped under his buttocks. [more...]
To the tune of: Kroke – Earth (Behusher Chosid)
Not Quite a Khazar
I dreamt of a musical instrument last night. I was on a train stuck between cities, heading for the engine and the drivers, and I passed a family of khazars, entertaining themselves by taking turns on it. I had to push past a shtarker in traditional dream dress, a white archaic tunic with red piping, his small flat red cap pinned to the side of his head, focussed on a lugubrious old man playing. The instrument was a like a clockwork squeezebox a cubit long with [more...]
To the tune of: Mad World by Tears for Fears.
Dr Greg Slaps Me Awake
First Dream (Nightmare): Mass Effect 2 interactable highlight encapsulating a plastic dinner tub, endlessly tesselating and overlapping.
Second Dream (Nightmare): A hole through the tiled splash wall behind the cooker in our old house, a hole that’s like something has bored/burned through wood but it’s tiles. Me and my mum lever the tiles off and there’s two openings behind the plaster. The right one is an old cast iron oven door and, when we open it, there’s still a fire in there, reassuringly glowing. [more...]
At the start, chance happenings – two good brains happening on each other, meeting by renown and word of mouth. Nothing else, no writing. Then, with writing, papyrus passing from palaces of the kings as edicts, the only minds that were known. Then writing widens, concepts are allowed and others than the kings have raw materials to communicate over long distances. Books are born, but not correspondence – that is solely by couriers, word of mouth and long-distance travellers. Ideas are communicated but not refined by the best, only by the local leisurely.
Then writing becomes commonplace and the [more...]
Somedays you wonder if there’s any point opening your eyes. Despite the miracles of daylight saving, when I get up to go to work it’s dark. In our cramped flat trapped between the motorway, tube lines, and ‘retail parks’ (such a horrible word, evoking branded daffodils and planting gold to harvest tat), it’s brown outside the windows, and even darker in our windowless bathroom. I shower, get dressed and head out into the snow, reflecting meagre light. As the tube heads under Hampstead hill, there’s a rosy glow spreading. I get to work. I sit at a desk. I work [more...]
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