Just a few juicy words…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s greyhound is the taciturn chubby pipe-smoking one.

Here is another recycled post from the days when I was blogging on that funny old thing called Myspace…

It was a grey drizzly day when I went on the bouncing bus to the nearby town of Beverley, East Yorkshire. I passed the time peering out of one of the upstairs bus windows and jotting down a few words and phrases on signs and vehicles that I glimpsed as we passed. Then, for no reason at all, I arranged them in alphabetical order… Is this a poem?… Is this a surrealist poem?… Probably not, it’s just a list of words; but perhaps, as they resonate so nicely, they should be read out in a voice mimicking that of a traditional Shakespearean actor?
Oh, look, that’s odd! The words on the page have serendipitously formed the shape of a dagger – a dagger of the mind?…

Diamond windows
Koi sale


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Mail Art Postcard No. 4492…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s specially selected adjectives are: weetingly, panomphaean, portly, corrigent, archiepiscopal, and damp.
Which one of these will you choose to slide into your conversation today?

Are you ready for another of my super bright intriguing mail art collage fluorescent postcards dear reader? (mail art)

WP F 4492 DSCN3598A startling little image isn’t it? Does it make you smile, or does it make you recoil in shock, and possibly let your laptop slip from your trembling knees to land on its vulnerable plastic corner on the hard floor, never to work again?…
It is quite powerful though isn’t it?
Again, the dog face and the mouth are snipped from an old copy of the UK TV listings magazine What’s On TV – what a great source of aesthetic inspiration that magazine is, though it’s pretty bad in all other respects…
For me the interesting thing here is not particularly the addition of the female human mouth to the cute beast, but how it’s addition changes the look of the dog’s eyes – even though the mouth is smiling the eyes are now so sad and full of woe… No, no, please don’t get drawn by it – you could sit here for hours – the mystery of the smile – the look in the eyes – it’s rather like the Mona Lisa I suppose – but not quite as well done… It’s my ‘Mona Lisa for the twenty-first century’…
Snip, snip, snip, a couple of dabs of glue, and a dollop of serendipity – and there!… Surrealism made easy!… Come on dear reader – have a go – you can be a mad artist too!…

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Grinning and whinnying and wet…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s existential angst is centred around the dents in the carpet where the piano used to stand.

‘Is that like hogwash, or balderdash… or Hogwarts?’
‘No?… Is it one word or two?…’
‘Oh, er, probably two, but it sounds like one.’
‘So… What’s it mean then? It sounds like a posh person’s name.’
‘What, like Lord Horsewash of Wilmington?’
‘Yes, that sort of thing.’
‘Well, come on then, what is it?’
‘It’s a place.’
‘It’s a place here in Dulltown.’
‘Oh, come on! Where… and what is it? – Is it a street?’
‘No, it’s a paved slope that goes down into the river near the pier, where in olden days…’
‘Olden days?’
‘Yes, in olden days they would take the horses…’
‘Horses? What horses?’
‘Cart horses that used to pull the wagons and the rullies…’
‘Mm… Yes, nice word ‘rully’… they’d walk them all, clipperty-clop, down to the water on a Sunday morning, and give them a jolly good wash… Sunday morning strollers would stand and watch…’
‘Do you remember this?’
‘No! Of course not!…’
‘You are making all this up, aren’t you?’
‘No, it’s true, but it was never called Horse Wash…’
‘It wasn’t?… Here we go!… Are you deliberately trying to be annoying?’
‘No, no, in the local accent it was called ‘Hoss Wash’, or, if you liked to drop your h’s, in the northern fashion, ‘Oss Wash’…’
‘This all sounds most unlikely…’
‘Look, I could show you an old photo of it, if you like…’
‘It had better be worth it after all this!…’
‘Oh, it will – apparently the horses loved it – just look at them grinning and whinnying, enjoying their bath…’
‘Oh yes… Cool!…’

(‘Oss Wash)

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Monumentality and dust…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s honoured guests are the Richard Branson lookalike twins. Goodness me, what a scary pair of confident gaping grins!…

DSCN3620Here is a picture of four of those small sculptures I came up with a couple of years ago. They are made from painted and waxed hardwood and the largest one here is about eighteen inches tall. Hm… they’d be even nicer if they were made of obsidian, like the ancient Egyptians used to use, but I didn’t have any kicking around the workshop at the time, so hardwood it is…
They are fairly shiny, although they don’t look it in the photograph – I’m not too hot on regular dusting – perhaps I should have given them a quick flick with a cloth before taking the picture…
What?… Oh, yes, the little cardboard man… Why is he there?… Well, apart from remaking these in obsidian, (what a nice word that is, let’s say it again… obsidian… it sounds like a name that posh people would give their son) I have a silly dream that one day they could be scaled up into monumental sculptures, made of… oh, bronze would do I suppose, and be placed in public squares in various capital cities of the world. I’ve seen far more boring ones than these in city centres, haven’t you?
The little cardboard man is there to suggest the proposed scale of the things – they could be about eight metres high, or more… Mind you, I’d have to think up some ‘meaningful’ titles for them (how about something pretentious like Fluctuations in the Perception of Angular Momentum?) – and no, they don’t have titles at present, but they do have numbers. Of course, the little man is me – I’m there, pompously posing for photographs before the crowds of cheering people at the unveiling by President Obama…

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Some smallish items…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s random dictionary words are: spinode, spintext, spirant, spinel, spinous, and bugong.
Please have these words looked up and placed in suitable sentences ready for Professor Mouldie first thing after breakfast tomorrow morning. If he happens to have a live white rabbit on his desk try to ignore it and refrain from remarking on it.

Excuses for being late. No. 222.
I’m sorry I’m late, but I had to oil a squeaky hinge on my triptych.

A fragment of a dream remembered on waking:
In a dimly-lit bar – people sitting around drinking – a tall man with the wasted look of Iggy Pop or Lou Reed came in. A fat American sitting to one side of me shouted, ‘He looks like Karl Ra-ra!…’ and everyone laughed…

A single overheard (possibly misheard) remark:
‘Oh, I remember the gold bascules…’

A few minutes ago I accidentally clicked on something on the WordPress page and a blog post unexpectedly opened up. It had my name on the top of it. The layout looked just like one of mine, but the content was rubbish. ‘Oh no!’, I gasped, ‘my blog has been hacked!’
It was alright though, it turned out to be an old one of mine after all…

An observation:
‘Oh look, today town is full of shifty-eyed fragile-looking miserable people…’
‘Yes Dave, a normal day in Dulltown then.’
‘Hm… Yes, I suppose so…’

Today’s Photography Tip:
No matter how tempted you are, don’t ever take a long exposure shot of a waterfall, or a gushing stream splashing over rocks, so that the water in the picture goes all blurred and misty, and looks ‘clever’ and ‘artistic’. There have been far too many of these taken already, the world doesn’t need any more…

‘Are you scared of heights Dave?’
‘No, but I’m scared of gravity – or the curvature of spacetime, as Albert Einstein would have it…’

I think I might change my name to Russel of Leaves.

If computers are supposed to run on logic, why do they behave like spoilt petulant children every five minutes?

‘This piece of writing doesn’t seem to be up to your usual standard Dave…’
‘Oh, it’ll be alright, after I’ve slipped some juicy fat adjectives in the gaps, and sprinkled a few commas and semi-colons over it.’
‘You think so?…’
‘It usually works…’

A single overheard remark:
‘I’m not wearing girl-trousers!…’


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The Interesting Room…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s architectural term is ‘enceinte’ – in military architecture, the main enclosure of a fortress, surrounded by the wall or ditch.
No, it’s no good, I can’t think of anything amusing to say about that, a nice word though it is…

DSCN3616Yes, I called this photograph ‘The Interesting Room’. It is in the house of a friend of mine.
You may have heard the expression, ‘the elephant in the room’ well this is the ‘Dalek in the room’ – you can’t really miss him can you?
Do I have to explain what a Dalek is? If you don’t know, you could always Google them. (Dalek)
I’m afraid I was never very impressed with ‘Dr Who’ on the TV, neither in its creaky old black and white days, nor in its flashy high-tech days, but I do remember these ungainly, and not actually very scary objects, with their monotonous grating voices and silly waving protuberances. As you can see this one isn’t quite finished – he still needs the domed top of his head fitting.
In the centre of the picture you can see a very nice old Harmony electric guitar, and on the left, sitting patiently, the members of a very small Japanese girl virtual pop band…
As I said, an interesting room…

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Doom in the corner…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s existential angst is centred around the idea of artificial light.

On Monday afternoon it was pouring with rain. I was in town, but wearing my zip-up jacket with its rather insubstantial and not very waterproof hood, so I nipped into the shelter of the doorway of one of the closed down city centre shops.
Oh dear, there was already someone in there; it was a man with his back to me, he was whistling and urinating in the corner. I was about to leave when he turned his head and said, ‘This rain really makes you want to pee doesn’t it Dave? – especially if you’ve had a couple of pints…’
Yes, it was Simon Doom, poet from the glory days of the Hull Surrealist League; he must have recognised me from my reflection in the shop window as he micturated.
He zipped up and turned to join me and we stood watching the big raindrops bounce and splash off the pavement.
‘Have you got a pen and paper on you?’ he asked.
I nodded.
‘Write this down! I’ll dictate an improvised spoem for you, (‘spoem’ or spoof poem is the name Simon gives to his work) to pass the time ’til the rain stops – then you can come back to Ye Olde White Hart with me, and buy me a beer or two in payment for the spoem, I seem to be a little short of cash today…’
Of course I had to pause him occasionally in his shouting, (he always shouts his poems) to check the spellings of some of the words.

Pank! Pank! Pank! Pank! Tube non sequitur!
Pank! Pank! Pank! Raspberry medallion cup.
Pank! Pank! Asymptote rumba coin.
Pank! Ass graticule displacement chaff.

Fonk! Fonk! Fonk! Fonk! Regional formality!
Fonk! Fonk! Fonk! Deliberate straw molecules.
Fonk! Fonk! Pinking chimney dunce pots.
Fonk! Devilish nate pounce epicure.

Jink! Jink! Jink! Jink! Teazle percussion!
Jink! Jink! Jink! Robust beef target upset.
Jink! Jink! Dual inquiry carpet dot.
Jink! Altar peace shady bull scope.

Zenk! Zenk! Zenk! Zenk! Tourmaline dessert!
Zenk! Zenk! Zenk! Tentative spruce anomaly.
Zenk! Zenk! Kick racquet boom relief.
Zenk! Painful green depression tube.

Simon Doom 2014.

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