Duty Calls

It is an absolute duty to speak of the human as a being who will use elements of the system to block up the system. Why the human feels compelled to block up the system especially when s/he can use elements of the system can be explained with recourse in part to the sense of humour component-but it is deeper-and sicker: the human can not help but chuckle to itself and among others about how clever it is and this is at its worst in the exacting of revenge or in the executing of malicious behaviour. The child is cruel; in teenage years that cruelty callouses and ushers 'humour' to its nasty service.

The browsers out there really do not leave enough comments for ye olde Squorche and it is leading him to puppet depression. Has anybody got puppet Prozac? On second thoughts tranqs are not a good idea.

Say: no thanks to tranqs.

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The Ghost of William Terriss Brings Hauntings

The actor William Terriss was stabbed at the stage door of the Adelphi Theatre in 1907. It is not far from where this picture was taken, which is the Royal Opera arcade. Terriss is thought to frequent Convent Garden tube station in particular and is described as "a man wearing a grey suit, old fashioned collar and white gloves".

There is some stuff about him on the BBC and also at

http://www.mystical-www.co.uk/ghost/zsee.htm


K1's mum told me about it and I had a nightmare:

I suddenly died and my body remained in bed as my soul lifted out of it. I hovered above my body for hours it seemed. Then, to my horror my body's eyes opened and my body walked around like a zombie heading towards Covent Garden. Then when it was on the tube somehow it "spotted" me and came running after me. I was being chased by my own body. I ran to the Royal Opera House where a beautiful lady suddenly came out. She had large brown eyes and a beautifully shaped nose.

I asked her to marry me but she could not hear. My body then asked her to marry it and she said no. Then my body "caught sight" of me and captured me. Suddenly I was back in the bedroom still out of body but below me there were two bodies that were identical and exactly like "my" body. I woke up sweating and tangled in my strings.

I want an operation. I want to be a wire-puppet like the ones at Blind Summit.

Untitled Poem

Thinking thoughts of thunking
Here comes my day a clunking
Plunking into plonkerty
So much rubbish needs must a junking

Thoughts a-thunking plink
When I’m lonely
I want be-withs
Bet rare are the am-withs
Where not think some thoughtly thinks want I
What think is a thunk
I’ve seen some blinks that make a bunk
Every human has to accept that they’ve blunk
And often with a blink

Today is a thinking day
They say I think too much
Some kind of thinking is just a hiding away crutch
Throw it away and talk and say
Oh Thank you,
Thanks very much

If my mind’s a rabbit
It’s a rabbit without a hutch
To find
is a lifelong thing
It’s a thung to think
It’s mind

Meditations On Blackholes:Invisible yet heavier than a Galaxy

Gosh! BANG! Phizz! Whahahollop! Blog! Gloop:)

The Blog is nearly 6 months old!!!

If K1 my "owner" allows me I am going to do a performance of a puppet who thinks he has turned into a blog. At intervals he gets new information and relays it to those around him. Some say he is being zapped by aliens, others that he is seeking publicity by pretending to be mad and others yet tell him to shut up. So he mimes his experiences....

Bergman and the Galaxies

Saraband is Master Ingmar Bergman's last film so far and is a must see for any of you shit directors out there who don't know what you're doing when it comes to your actors. Here is acting at its finest in a tightly woven chamberpiece where the depths of human selfishness, especially that of artists, is given the kind of air that lets truths multiply in action and emotion - the miniscule vibration of facial muscles that convey the macroscopic turmoils of the heart and the dying of the soul.

The story is about a weak son and a tyrannically domineering father. The father was an operatic celebrity. His son is a cellist of competence who has never enjoyced the limelight. But his daughter, his dad's grand-daughter with whom he is disgustingly committing incest has the potential to be noted by the snobby and hyper-critical classical music world. But she has to break free of her dad, and grandad whose daughter she possibly could be. In two scenes the music, Bach, in the church and Bruckner, Symphony no. 9, in the grand dad's study are used with masterly psychological accuracy.

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It is one week since my last post and in that time a super-nova has exploded. It is the brightest thing anyone has ever seen. But I didn't see it. Did you? Please contact bbc.co.uk if you did see it. Apparently one is going to happen in our galaxy, the Milky Way very soon. Lock up your Mars bars.

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Starry Night Little Red Spot Vangogh Jupiter

The confluence of nature and art in VanGogh's Starry Night and The Little Red Spot:

In a picture beamed to NASA on Earth from the New Horizons spacecraft orbiting Jupiter we see the similarity between VanGogh's masterpiece Starry Night and the Little Red Spot ( a storm the size of planet Earth, situated below the famous Great Red Spot, an even greater storm requiring a celestial teacup) .

• A link to pictures from Jupiter and its moons:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/6614557.stm

• A link to the Van Gogh web gallery:

http://www.vangoghgallery.com/

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