Ah well. It's great to be home, toasting my feet before a roaring driftwood fire and sipping a large mug of Madeira.
How did I get here? I can't for the life of me remember, and it's probably just as well. Geoffrey assures me that it was all a horrible dream - except for the part where we were sitting on Saturn's rings. Which leads me to think that we might still be there, and that my cosy fireside is an illusion, brought on by either boredom or terror. Or both.
Is it possible to be bored and terrified at the same time?
I will ask Geoffrey.
"Geoffrey?"
"Yes, I think it is. For example - "
"But I haven't asked you anything yet. Oh no! Don't tell me you're at the mind-reading again. Where's your Mind-reading Prevention Device, or M.P.D.? Put it on immediately."
"No. I have a new Device. It's a Mind-reading Filtre, or M.F. It enables me to choose which minds to home in on and read, rather than having to endure the chitter chatter of many minds, when in range of course. Some people's minds are rather unsavoury, Tuppy. You'd be surprised."
"I wouldn't," I thought.
"Yes you would. And no, I don't mean normal dirt and muck, or wanting to put a pillow over my face to stop me snoring PERMANENTLY, or hiding packets of Gypsy Creams and Black Bogey behind the skirting and pretending we've run out. Yes, I know about all that, because I saw your thoughts - it was just like being at a magick lantern show, except it was deeply hurtful and upsetting and there was no popcorn and nobody sneezing in the seat behind without covering their mouth."
I was aghast. Talk about intrusive! I tried to make my mind as blank as possible by thinking about Nothing...nothing.....nothing.....Gosh it was difficult. So much for people saying I'm empty-headed.
Geoffrey was still rattling on. "It's all right Tuppy - I forgive you. I understand your foibles, despite your not understanding mine and being horribly impatient with me. What I mean is, some people think nasty, poisonous thoughts about other people. They assume the worst. They suffer agonies of jealousy and they want to bring them down. These thoughts occupy most of their waking moments, and as a result they make their own lives miserable as well as the lives of those around them. I can't bear it Tuppy!"
He began to sob.
"Fetch the M.P.D. right now Geoffrey," I snapped, "I'm sure it's still in the attic - possibly underneath the coracle. The new-fangled M.F. obviously is no earthly use whatever, and you're starting to rave, albeit rather feebly. This carry-on has to stop, and stop NOW. While you're searching for it I'm going to have an opium tabloid to take the edge off my morbid fear of still being on Saturn's ring and my own cosy fireside just being a trick of the over-taxed brain, and ponder today's conundrum - is it possible to be both bored and terrified at the same time."
more later
Saturday, 19 January 2013
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
Quote of the Day - from Scott's Journals
Extract from Robert Falcon Scott's Journals - 'Sunday, October 8. - ....Troubles rarely come singly, and it occurred to me after Clissold had been brought in that Taylor, who had been bicycling to the Turk's Head, was overdue. We were relieved to hear that with glasses two figures could be seen approaching in South Bay, but at supper Wright appeared very hot and said that Taylor was exhausted in South Bay - he wanted brandy and hot drink. I thought it best to despatch another relief party, but before they were well round the point Taylor was seen coming over the land. He was fearfully done. He must have pressed on towards his objective long after his reason should have warned him that it was time to turn; with this and a good deal of anxiety about Clissold, the day terminates very unpleasantly.'
Sunday, 13 January 2013
Monday, 7 January 2013
Jimmy Page In Conversation (BBC Dec 2012) *Full Interview*
Kennedy Medals and a comfy middle-aged-style interview with the BBC. It'll be knighthoods next. Ghastly, yes - but Led Zeppelin can transcend all. Marvellous to see Jimmy Page at any rate.
(Nice teeth.)
Sunday, 6 January 2013
Wednesday, 2 January 2013
Monday, 31 December 2012
My Year on the Blog
.....started off badly, and has improved, steadily, since.
I didn't think I could do it - didn't think I wanted to do it - but I've got my head back into Rocky Outcrop mode, which is a reassuring place to be.
Aims for 2013? To stay alive, mainly, and, hopefully, well. And to find some form of writing-related "income generation", no matter how minor.
I hope to grow some leeks this year, and I'd like a different car.
Resolutions? None.
Thank you to all who have purchased my books. I hope you enjoyed them. I hope to produce more, in due course.
That is all.
I didn't think I could do it - didn't think I wanted to do it - but I've got my head back into Rocky Outcrop mode, which is a reassuring place to be.
Aims for 2013? To stay alive, mainly, and, hopefully, well. And to find some form of writing-related "income generation", no matter how minor.
I hope to grow some leeks this year, and I'd like a different car.
Resolutions? None.
Thank you to all who have purchased my books. I hope you enjoyed them. I hope to produce more, in due course.
That is all.
Thursday, 27 December 2012
Monday, 24 December 2012
I Believe in Father Christmas
Terrible sound quality, but it is the original version.
Wishing all blog readers, past, present, and future, a merry, magical Christmas - and a Brave New Year.
"May all anguish, pain and sadness
Leave your heart and let your road be clear."
Friday, 21 December 2012
Jethro Tull Rare Promo Vid for Solstice bells 1976
I blog this every year - because it's my favourite. Happy Solstice! light a gigantic fire, mull some ale, roast someone you don't like on a spit....rejoice, at the returning of the sun!
Beats going to Markies.
Thursday, 20 December 2012
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - Interview (the only COMPLETE version)
Hadn't seen this before. I don't like the recent spin-offs, devised by other people - just doesn't seem right, at all.
The Solstice Strangers...........
"GAUDETE GAUDETE KRISTOOS IST NAH-TOOS...."
As we approached the blazing inferno that was Tupfnder Towers, we could see a circle of people dressed in white, wearing crowns of mistletoe and ivy, all swinging their arms and singing at the tops of their voices.
"Tuppy, who ARE these people?" said Geoffrey anxiously, fumbling in his new khaki, combat-style bumbag (an early Yuletide gift from his distant aunt Jemima) for his brass telescope.
"They're Strangers Geoffrey."
"Yes they are Tuppy," said Geoffrey, screwing up one eye and peering through his telescope, "They look like they're from Overthere. I remember the fat one with the ring in her nose from the check-out when we were Overthere three years ago (see e-books for MUCH more detail), on our epic search for the oracle in the coracle. And I'm sure that one with the pink hair and the tattoo on her neck is the nurse from the compulsory health screening centre."
"That's called body art," I corrected absently, "A completely different thing to the tattoos of whales and sailing ships and "MOTHER" to which we're accustomed. I read about it in Bad Trip Advisor." I was appalled. We don't like Strangers round here, with their fancy different ways. We're inbred, and we like to keep it that way.
"Will we have to - " Geoffrey hesitated.
"I'm afraid so, Geoffrey," I said shortly, "We've little option. We'll have to send them Over the Top, just like we did the last lot. Come on. Let's get back to the Outcrop and think of a plan."
Meanwhile, as the jets of water from the Bay did their work, clouds of steam rose high above the dully-glowing embers of Tupfinder Towers, and the muffled voices of helpers running to and fro with buckets of this and that faded behind us in the mid-winter twilight.
"Shouldn't we stay and help, Tuppy? It seems wrong not to. After all, the T-G and Mrs T-G are our dearest friends."
"No Geoffrey. Lots of things seem wrong, but they aren't really when you sit down and think about it. It's all under control now. No point in wasting our energies."
And I hastened along the homeward track, trying to blot out the mental image of the contents of my pipe smouldering away in the waste paper basket in the library of Tupfinnder Towers....
AMAZON PAGE
As we approached the blazing inferno that was Tupfnder Towers, we could see a circle of people dressed in white, wearing crowns of mistletoe and ivy, all swinging their arms and singing at the tops of their voices.
"Tuppy, who ARE these people?" said Geoffrey anxiously, fumbling in his new khaki, combat-style bumbag (an early Yuletide gift from his distant aunt Jemima) for his brass telescope.
"They're Strangers Geoffrey."
"Yes they are Tuppy," said Geoffrey, screwing up one eye and peering through his telescope, "They look like they're from Overthere. I remember the fat one with the ring in her nose from the check-out when we were Overthere three years ago (see e-books for MUCH more detail), on our epic search for the oracle in the coracle. And I'm sure that one with the pink hair and the tattoo on her neck is the nurse from the compulsory health screening centre."
"That's called body art," I corrected absently, "A completely different thing to the tattoos of whales and sailing ships and "MOTHER" to which we're accustomed. I read about it in Bad Trip Advisor." I was appalled. We don't like Strangers round here, with their fancy different ways. We're inbred, and we like to keep it that way.
"Will we have to - " Geoffrey hesitated.
"I'm afraid so, Geoffrey," I said shortly, "We've little option. We'll have to send them Over the Top, just like we did the last lot. Come on. Let's get back to the Outcrop and think of a plan."
Meanwhile, as the jets of water from the Bay did their work, clouds of steam rose high above the dully-glowing embers of Tupfinder Towers, and the muffled voices of helpers running to and fro with buckets of this and that faded behind us in the mid-winter twilight.
"Shouldn't we stay and help, Tuppy? It seems wrong not to. After all, the T-G and Mrs T-G are our dearest friends."
"No Geoffrey. Lots of things seem wrong, but they aren't really when you sit down and think about it. It's all under control now. No point in wasting our energies."
And I hastened along the homeward track, trying to blot out the mental image of the contents of my pipe smouldering away in the waste paper basket in the library of Tupfinnder Towers....
AMAZON PAGE
Thursday, 13 December 2012
Quote of the Day - Merleau Ponty
"There is nothing to be seen beyond our horizons, but other landscapes and still other horizons, and nothing inside the thing but other smaller things."
From The Phenomenology of Perception.
From The Phenomenology of Perception.
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