The other week, I went on a thousand-mile pilgrimage to a secret temple high in the Tibetan mountains. Concentrated on trucking right all the way across the dusty red plains and through dense, unforgiving snow drifts. Got there exhausted but super-resolved --beard very overgrown-- saying to the Maharishi, "I've reached the pinnacle of my spiritual learning. My ego is _minimal,_ my desire for earthly accomplishment is completely SATED". And obviously he laughed, in that way that zen-like wisemen
It was a beautiful day for our summer fete. There was no other way to describe it other than 'heavenly'. All of the tents and the various stalls just shone beneath the high June sun. I remember, the sight of amassed jars of home-made jam drew you in, even if you didn't particularly like jam.
And so I simply drifted among the funny scarecrows, the face-painted childeren, the toffee-apple chewing farmer's daughters. Sandals, beige shorts, neck-tied jumper and panama hat: the most comfortable
So ...you know your book case? Full of books that you've _naturally_ accrued just by being alive, and being interested in _something_ in the world? I don't care exactly what kind of books. It doesn't matter. Turns out that _none of them_ are worth under £15. And if there's a specific, niche subject you're into? Ho-ho _(sings, 'You're in the money')_
The reason for this post: well, y'know that little bookshop in the Wye Valley, between Monmouth and Chepstow? _YES,_ it's opposite the office
***Spoiler alert, by the way.***
So, there's a new Hollywood blockbuster film out called 'Avengers Endgame'. I really enjoyed it. There's close-quarters fighting, and laughs, and moments of PORTENTOUS DRAMA --in other words, all the things that are DEFICIENT in the real world.
But now, in the style of a passive-aggressive internet gobshyne, I will list my top ten grievances.
Ten) The title -- it's not actually a game, is it? The stakes are HIGH and both the goodies and the baddie
I remember, in the early nineties, at the height of the animosity between The Sun and The Prodigy, they featured a story revealing how, just a few months before the band was formed, Keith Flint had been a meek, mild-mannered public schoolboy -- as opposed to the sneering, leering punk-god that he appeared on stage. They intended it to be a death-blow revelation. But collectively, we dance music fans -- simply shrugged. The nihilistic power of the Prodigy was not something that could be faked or
I was walking into Dursley from Cam, alongside the little chain of shops, fire stations, etc. What''s the point in having so many supermarkets and newsos so close together in an otherwise completely rural valley? But that's another debate for another time. I was walking along, past the rozzer hoose, and I noticed this new, swish, Jehovah's Witness meeting hall. The meeting was just about to convene: even though there was only about a dozen parking spaces in the car park, loads of blokes in hi-vi
‘Some time ago’, I decided to come here to Hell to rescue the soul of my girlfriend Eurydice. She of the steep brow, atypical nose and distinctive jawline. I was young and naive, and it was almost inevitable I'd become trapped.
Famously, you're allowed to take with you one physical object when crossing over. I'd been watching a lot of Marx Brothers films and was fascinated at how all the chaos would pause while Harpo brought forth a musical interlude with his Harp. So, quite simply, I decide
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had this thought in my head: if I was a celebrity, I’d actually _half-welcome it_ if my TV / movie / political career went south (or at least petered out), because I could then just write novels for a living.
Think of it in terms of being in a space-ship, and it gets wrecked in the middle of a battle, and you gotta quickly climb on board a _slightly, slightly_ smaller escape pod, but which is still a pretty cool spaceship in its own right, enough
So. I've been haunting Discord and Mastodon. https://chatrooms.talkwithstranger.com seems to be 'where it's at' in terms of sheer entertainment and human zoology -- and yet, https://www.unexplained-mysteries.com (in my opinion) remains home of all the most spiritual and thoughtful folk.
And I've been thinking. One of the main narratives of Brexit, as told in a thousand broadsheet fluff pieces and opined by a thousand talk radio hosts –is that the main horror that’s befallen us is not the r
Here's my predictions for what'll happen in 2019. Not so much in a psychic sense (ALTHOUGH THERE IS THAT), more as if I was a bow-tie wearing expert in a Sky News fluff piece --and they're letting me wear my own clothes (ostentatious leather jacket plus Swindon Town Wembley scarf). For ease of reading, I'll divide the shizzle into 'Good News', 'Indifferent News', 'Bad News'.
* Coca-Cola will reintroduce Tab Clear into UK supermarkets.
* Corbo will finesse a vote of no c
I spoke the other day about, whenever you think of two people you loathe and despise, there’s always one you loathe and despise _slightly_ less than the other, and that probably gives hope for the goodness of the human spirit.
But with Charles Dickens and Agatha Christie, it’s a very, very close-run thing.
I look through the Christmas TV guides and see John Malkovich is playing Poirot, in the same inexplicable way that gifted actors (Albert Finney, Kenneth Brannagh, Rowan Atkinson, to
Something I noticed about a decade back --it started as a piece of wancy observational comedy just bouncing around in my head, but has since become EERIE out of all proportion.
Now, because I'm kinda disorganised, and also duty-bound to drive me mam to her last-minute shopping, I invariably spend Christmas Eve in, say, The Galleries Bristol, Brunel in Swindon, Yate Tesco (by all accounts the biggest in the country), always when they're crazily busy. And I don't mean 'busy' as in, 'ah, thos
Prince Charles is a nutter. He’s an affable nutter, entertaining us all by pointing out the funny sounds turkeys make, and making guest appearances on ‘Look Around You’ --but a nutter nonetheless. And I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing. I really dislike the Queen –not the necessarily the monarchy as an institution, but the Queen personally. “Oh, look how well she’s done to have spent so long as a national figurehead”. Well, yes, fine, whatever. I’m sure the residents of Skull Island were
I guess, like most things nowadays, Christmas is being swamped in irony, and distraction, and rudderless confusion. It was bad enough back in the day, when you wouldn't know whether the Two Ronnies were going to have a musical interlude featuring David Essex singing 'Winter's Tale' ...or Barker blacked up as Kid Creole. Now we can watch whatever we want, play with whatever fancy gadget we can imagine, but there's still no 'pith'. It's like going on holiday: you only figure out what the essence w
Here's a fun Christmas game I invented. It's a bit passive-aggressive, but then, what isn't?
What's the main vibe of Christmas, apart from the gratitude of Jesus getting born, and good food, and Shakin Stevens?
Peace and goodwill.
Think of two people that you blackly, bitterly, _loathe and despise._ Fortunately, I'm in a position where I no longer have anyone in my life that I actually _hate,_ therefore I have to use celebrities.
For example. I hate Miranda Hart. I hate Jenn
I kinda like Michael Gove. But then again, I have got 'form' for liking cliche public school Tories (or at least, not hating them as anyone else with my old skool communistic, Ian Bone-style mindset does). I don't mind Bojo the Clown. I like the way Jacob Rees Mogg's aristocratic personality is matched by his very leisurely lateral thinking. Question: if you took Jacob Rees Mogg's consciousness and put it in John Lydon's body, with John Lydon's vocal chords, how long would it be before anyone no
About this crazy thing that sits in the middle of our collective unconscious ...it just lounges around all day juggling these hugely contradictory ideas -- I mean, it _is_ just a gibbering chimp, innit?
Who is the one person --the default, go-to person-- that all rabble-rousing, studenty, city-working, hipstery lefties love to hate? Tony Blair. Yet he's vehemently in favour of Remain, the self-same hobby-horse that all the rabble-rousing, studenty, city-working, hipstery lefties spend their
So, they've started dismantling the toll booths on the Severn Bridge so everyone can get a free ride. I'm thinking just one thing: on that little hill overhead, by the religious cult plaque, there's an ancient pay-telescope jammed up with 20p coins. IS IT STILL THERE? WHY DOES NO ONE PRIZE IT OPEN AND GET THE CASH? So much for austerity Britain -- if we're so rich, we can't even be bothered to get some free money.