BBC Wogan in need 2010

Oooh! Pig-bristle paintbrushes! Yes. It's that time of year, again, that thanks to BB-ec 'Wogan mewn angen', our thoughts are forced once more to child welfare and the broken dreams of the little ones, the plant bach. And the big ones too - the Merthyr junkies in need of a new pool table to torch and balls to sock each other with. Pwy sy'n the daddy now?! But half the money is wasted on starving coons abroad. Here today we are blessed to receive His Smugliness Sir Paddy Wogan the Ist to explain why it is still necessary to sit in a bath of sponsored baked beans when our chocolate chums can't be bothered to get off their arses and look after themselves.

REJ:- Croeso, your smugliness! -

PW:- Top o' the mornin' to you, Richard. Lilt, lilt, wheeze -

REJ:- Take a pew, my fat, sweating friend! -

PW:- To be sure indeed I will to be sure lilt lilt wheeze, scripted anecdote. And could you pass me that fine string of sausages on this fine top o' the mornin' Janet and John? -

PW:- To be sure -

REJ:- Take them as a gift, from my heart to yours -

PW:- The ole' ticker thanks you -

REJ:- Perhaps a mug of lard to wash it down? -

PW:- Dearie diddly me, now you wouldn't be trying to finish me off would you? lilt lilt Mrs Wogan drivel -

REJ:- Have this chocolate gateaux chaser -

PW:- Just the one, Richard, and a diet coke -

REJ:- Your suit is so grateful. Nawrte. When you were caught out under the freedom of information act and it was revealed that you took thousands for your BB-ec Wogan mewn angen piss-dribbling wank shows, everytime for 25 years, whilst croc-a-crying into the camera how 5p could save a life, did you feel at all ashamed? -

PW:- Not at all, Richard, dearie dearie lilt top o' the rich list me. As I explained at the time, it was a non-commercial fee, and I would gladly have done it for nothing -

REJ:- You just did it for something instead. For a quarter of a century. Whilst snivelling into the camera and begging for a knighthood -

PW:- It was a non-commercial knighthood, Richard, and I would gladly have not cravenly accepted it -

REJ:- But your frantic grasping hands -

PW:- Ah!, the Eurovision song contest! Dearie diddly leprachauns me the poverty I have known! I'm wasting away here! Pass me that goose-fat mouthwash. Now when I was in Tipperary -

REJ:- Now every year, when you and fifty other multi-millionaires gather at the BB-ec -

PW:- Dear Auntie Beeb bless her! - the ole' beeb!, good ole' Auntie beeb -

REJ:- and stare gawping at the starving coons, it must occur to you -

PW:- Exactly. It's so heart-wrenching. It gets you everytime. Even after all these years. But what can we as mere humble multi-millionaires possibly do? -

REJ:- Well you could -

PW:- That's it! We could give of our time, give freely, for a small token non-commercial fee of a few thousand pounds - not much money at all these days - although the autocue says 5p could save a life - and beg cringingly into the camera for you, the good ole' British public to send us money. Lilt lilt tango dribble. -

REJ:- It is such a shame that the little ones go hungry -

PW:- It lilt diddly dulcet is. But wealth distribution is not the business of government. 'No fed nation with taxation!' -

REJ:- Indeed. Now when you bought half the forests of Scotland for tax evasion purposes -

PW:- Tax avoidance, Richard! Avoidance is not the same as evasion - only in a thesaurus! -

REJ:- Yes. When you bought the forests for tax evasion purposes, did you ever consider -

PW:- I remember when Ken Bruce went on the QE2 for charity, all expenses paid. It was every year. But my show's better -

REJ:- Yes you couldn't be replaced by a sack of shit with a silly face drawn on it -

PW:- Never diddly dulcet lilt o' the mornin' ever! -

REJ:- Now -

PW:- Would you pass me that turdurken on pig's head and body to be sure? There are people starving in Africa you know, it would be a shame to waste it -

*etc. Hard to type through the vomit.*

Afterthought

I have heard thought, that buffering between Selfs on the new platform is possible. It will not be by design. Lovers of humanity, as human lovers, desire to merge deeper than reason. The integrity of thought requires discreteness as discretion. Self is lost in subsumption to the swarm.

Since birth, humanity has died nightly. Tomorrow there can be no resurrection, and none can mind.

Thought for the next day

Futurology is simple. Technology is unpredictable, desire all too predictable. We have noticed humans prefer a virtual reality to the true physical world, people prefer visible light. All such preferences are trivial and obvious, and of course unchosen. This is why we can know what we shall do.

The base and most powerful drives are short-coded once future-proof generalisations. This constitutes the soul of mankind. Rivers of thought, elaborate at estuary, are simple at source and can be read with a mirror.

Would-be neo-luddites who imagine they don't wish to play, may not. The extinct cannot influence future events, the game will play out in their absence. 'Better late than ever' none shall hear them say. It remains true however, that immortality shall be the death of us.

The Self is fluid, it's location inconstant. 'It's behind you!' shout the children at the pantomime, and behind turns with looking. The writer feels the pen at the nib, at the page, this extension of Self is why we shall die.

The richest fool is quick to see how his circumstances could be improved. Improvements beyond imagination, and perfectly real as Self, are literally irresistable. Isolated pockets may live on, with fuel, but unconnected are of no influence.

The end of Self is written by the base desire to communicate.

Thought for the day

There are more moves in chess than there are atoms in the universe. And yet we pretend machines cannot think. We pretend they 'try all the moves'. How fragile the ego. The 'dignity of humanity' that Kasparov endearingly failed to 'restore' (a man who can beat 50 players simultaneously blindfold) was never lost. The child catching a ball plays better than any machine, though he is machinery of course. The surprise at the autist savant highlights the evolutionary tuning. Few other than new parents for a moment, are impressed by walking. The majestic inflorescence of the deltaic outflow of plus and minus binary multiplied, and little else, astounds those tuned to tribal-level surprise. So machines can think but can they mind? Of course we do. Are you as clever as your mobile phone? yes and no, but not yes for long. Fermi had no paradox.

Immortality is coming by exaption in the next few decades. If we don't want it, that is irrelevant. The limbless want limbs, the Alzheimers' want brains, the code is long but simple. With centuries you could read it - but other machines do that. Understanding is different, but hardly necessary. Long before, virtual reality will be all-consumed. If you say you wouldn't like a virtual world, you haven't noticed where you live. Perhaps you see microwaves. Perhaps you feel you are molecules. You don't because of where you live.

Travel in bodies is anachronistic. Your hands can't feel. The desire to travel thus is strongest in those who don't know where they are.

Can the maker of optical illusions 'not-see' them? The magic is always real. Extrapolate to all perception. To know how the magic works is to know how to work the magic. We can, at the level of Self, where we all exist, and where trivial illusions like pain and God and consciousness are perfectly real, engineer reality.

Mari Nicesmile-Warmhands, alternative therapist

Wel, I've only got un awr in the llyfrgell, and so there's no time for introductions. Where is that no-show wet-pants Rimmer? I may as well buy my own computer at this rate...

REJ:- Miss Warmhands! Croeso i Llanfihangel-y-creuddyn! That is what you may have heard said through your ears when you first moved here 5 years ago. But have this one on me incase the locals weren't welcoming back then - we used to be insular you know -

MNW:- Dye-oltch Richard! I said that right didn't I? Yes. Oh but you are so wrong! - already! - Everyone has been most welcoming. Except perhaps Dr. Thompson. And Mr Wellingtons the apothecary. But that's business isn't it? -

REJ:- I see you've been infused with the language of heaven! -

MNW:- You see with your ears, yes, Richard! -

REJ:- Alternative anatomy! Now Miss Nicesmile-Warmhands. When did you first realise that eating cheese backwards caused autism?

MNW:- I knew you'd bring that up! -

REJ:- Excuse me. I just coughed and a piece of -

MNW:- It was about ten years ago, Richard. I noticed that there was some autism going around. 'Dear me' I thought. Perhaps eating cheese backwards is causing this. I must find out at once - this could mean I am really important! At last! -

REJ:- Iesu Mawr! But how could you know for sure? -

MNW:- Through experiment, Richard. The collection of empirical evidence. Rigorous statistical analysis of data. That kind of thing. -

REJ:- Faberlous! That's the way to do it! -

MNW:- Nearly always, Richard. But the nature of the crisis, and the apathy of the medical profession, meant that the traditional restrictive and byzantine protocols would have to be disregarded -

REJ:- Oooh! -

MNW:- Yes, Richard. I am a maverick. My methods may be unconventional, but they get results. -

REJ:- Piss bollocks results Sioned would say! HAHAHA! -

MNW:- HAHAHA! -

REJ:- If she were still here! HAH - oh.

MNW:- Sioned is a shill for Big Dairy, Richard. She -

REJ:- Oh. You heard too. That bastard Glyn-the-milk -

MNW:- There was no time to recruit volunteers. No time at all. Just 24hrs a day. But something had to be done! -

REJ:- And what was that something? -

MNW:- Sometimes, Richard, when you know you are right, you just have to go with what you feel. And I felt the best course of action in the circumstances was to head straight for the Bronglais paediatric oncology ward and stick cheese up the little one's bottoms. -

REJ:- Unconventional indeed! -

MNW:- Unconventional yes, but I got results. -

REJ:- What results did you get? -

MNW:- I got struck off. But I didn't let that stop me. I knew Big Dairy was behind it, and that meant I was onto something. They were trying to shut me up. But I refused to shut up. I had to find another way to gain access to children's bottoms. -

REJ:- What a story! If the press got hold of this! - What did you do next? -

MNW:- Buoyed by my success - by being struck off - which meant I was right - I started going to children's parties -

REJ:- Inspired! -

MNW:- It was. I found that if I wore a labcoat, stethoscope, and that funny circle mirror thing on my head I'm not quite sure how it works, and told parents there was some autism going around, they would let me stick as much cheese up their children's bottoms as was necessary to my research - half a pound of camembert once! - usually just after 'pass-the-parcel', when they were distracted. -

REJ:- Again your concern for the little ones shines through! -

MNW:- Well spotted, Richard! Yes it's not all about me! -

REJ:- Or your bank account! -

MNW:- Certainly not! The results however were inconclusive. That is what an average scientist might say. But I didn't feel constrained by the narrow-minded conventions of average science. And I already had my conclusions. Sometimes, Richard, when you already know you are right -

REJ:- And you are a maverick! -

MNW:- A maverick genius, yes. And perhaps a bit more important than other people, and other people's rules, and when you're not a shill for Big Dairy, and -

REJ:- Yes! yes! What did you do? -

MNW:- I wrote a paper for the Lancet. Or Nature. I can't remember - you google it - I'm pretending to be that whatsisname incase you hadn't noticed -

REJ:- All over my head I'm afraid - but you made up the bit about the children's parties of course? -

MNW:- No Comment. Anyway, I went straight to the Daily Twat, who were intending to run a story on how coffee causes cancer, but cures syphilis when drunk on wednesdays, but when I showed them my stethoscope, and that funny circle mirror thing on my head - they all had a go! - it was very much 'hold the front page!'. And then let it go and print it with my story instead. -

REJ:- Goodness! -

MNW:- It gets goodnesser! The story went around the world, and parents everywhere rejected conventional medicine. For their children. Not so much for themselves. But older people are more set in their ways aren't they Richard? -

REJ:- Best to leave new things to be tested on the young I suppose! -

MNW:- Well that's just the world we live in, Richard. The dream of alternative aeroplanes just never took off -

REJ:- Or alternative heart-transplant surgeons! -

MNW:- Perhaps I was just ahead of my time. That happens with maverick geniuses who aren't shills to Big Dairy. Or round-earthers. -

REJ:- Well you did your best. And made lots of money. And were popular in America. -

MNW:- Indeed I was Richard, and still am. The right to be scientifically illiterate is in the constitution you know! -

REJ:- Duw, duw!, they know how to do things over the pond don't they yes indeed to goodness Iesu mawr isn't it don't you? -

MNW:- er...yes. Shall we end the story there Richard? I wanted to talk about homeopathy. I might be that lady doctor in knighton -

REJ:- The one who just had her prescribing rights suspended? -

MNW:- That's the one! I think we've done the autism thing to death. -

REJ:- Not quite to death yet have we?! Lets have the happy ending! -

MNW:- Life is not a fairy tale, Richard! Life is not Hollywood! There isn't always a happy ending, despite what my accountant may tell you. -

REJ:- Go on -

MNW:- People are very stupid, Richard, you know the type - the type that are very stupid. And they didn't follow everything I said. They rejected conventional medicine, yes, and thousands of children died of silly preventable things like mumps and measles. But all of this was unnecessary! All those deaths could have been avoided! -

REJ:- Gasp! No! How?! -

MNW:- If they had only put cheese up their bottoms! And maybe hopped 12 times on thursdays, as I later recommended. But by this time noone was listening. Big Dairy had got to the GMC and the papers, and I was finally silenced. The Daily Twat went back to running the how polishing commerorative Diana dolls the wrong way causes cancer instead. Although they did at least have the integrity not to apologise for printing my story. There is some honour in journalism still. -

REJ:- Wel, wel, boys bach. Yes. Turn into that lady doctor from knighton then -

MNW:- Glad to oblige, Richard! Let me just remove half of my brain....*squelch!....pop!* ah! -

REJ:- Ooopsy! that's a bit more than half! -

MNW:- Duw, duw, boys bach, so it was isn't it? -

REJ:- Careful! -

MNW:- Homeopathy. Yes. Now there is a lot of nonsense talked about homeopathy. Yet I have printed out lots of certificates off the internet, and put them on my wall. -

REJ:- Impressive! -

MNW:- Yes. Contrary to what average doctors may try to tell the uninformed, homeopathy is a respectable science, grounded in fact. And certificates off the internet. -

REJ:- They do look pretty! -

MNW:- They are very important. Even Mr.Wellingtons has tried to cut in on my action, although my service is better -

REJ:- How so? -

MNW:- The clue is in the name, Richard, - they don't call me Nicesmile-Warmhands for nothing! -

REJ:- I've got a bit of a groin strain at the moment -

MNW:- Twenty pounds for half an hour! -

REJ:- Done! It's getting more painful as I think about it! -

MNW:- I have a lot of healthy male customers. But that's Reiki. Lets get back to homeopathy. The fundamental principle of homeopathy is that illnesses can be cured by poison. -

REJ:- Well who would have thought it! -

MNW:- You'd be surprised -

REJ:- I am almost daily! -

MNW:- But you may be thinking, Richard, that ingesting poison is not a good idea -

REJ:- No, I stopped thinking half an hour ago. Carry on -

MNW:- That's perfectly fine, Richard. It works best if I do the thinking for you. Now, as I was saying, the best way to cure illnesses is by ingesting poison. But - and this bit is quite important - only if the poison has been diluted! -

REJ:- Let me write that bit down....

MNW:- Good idea -

REJ:- How much should the poison be diluted? -

MNW:- Until there is none of it left. That is the key. Then stop diluting. -

REJ:- It would be rather pointless to continue! HAHAHA! -

MNW:- HAHAHA! yes. -

REJ:- Yes indeed. Er...but then aren't you just giving them....er... nothing? -

MNW:- Nothing for money! If only business worked like that in the real world! I'd be rich! -

REJ:- You are! -

MNW:- So I am! But I'm afraid it doesn't work quite like that -

REJ:- What a shame! -

MNW:- You need to print the certificates as well, Richard. And that can take upwards of half an hour -

REJ:- And ink! And paper -

MNW:- And little bottles. And I'm on a water meter you know -

REJ:- I wasn't suggesting you didn't earn your money -

MNW:- Good. I'll cancel the voodoo gypsy vampire hex curse then. -

REJ:- Please, yes! Have you done it? -

MNW:- Yes. That's it cancelled. I just wiggled my nose like that tart in 'bewitched'. -

REJ:- I wouldn't mind waving my wand up -

MNW:- This is a serious blog, Richard, not just an outlet for puerile jokes -

REJ:- Sorry. Yes you're right. I deserve to be sosbanned. Only Sioned -

MNW:- Forget about Sioned, Richard. She's in the hands of Big Dairy now -

REJ:- No need to rub it in -

MNW:- I'm not doing the puerile either, Richard. You won't trick me with obvious feed-lines like that. Now. Back to homeopathy. You made the typical basic error of thinking I was just giving them water. For money. -

REJ:- I feel silly now -

MNW:- That's better. Remember who has the certificates on their wall. It's me. Not you. Now homeopathy works because water has memory. -

REJ:- Of course. -

MNW:- And it remembers the poison that was in it. The poison that cures the illnesses. By not being there. -

REJ:- Got it! -

MNW:- Well I would hope so, I really couldn't be simpler. -

REJ:- But if water has memory, what about all the other things that have been in it? I don't wish to be indelicate, and would never knowingly be crude for cheap effect, but what about all the faeces and urine and minge-blood and condoms? Does it not remember those as well? -

MNW:- Of course not, Richard! Really. You are testing my patience -

REJ:- But not your patients -

MNW:- No, don't do that please. We don't want to spoil things. -

REJ:- No. Although it's not about the money -

MNW:- Never. But we don't want to dilute my income! Money doesn't work like water you see. That would be absurd. Money doesn't have memory, water does. Please remember your Physics. Water has memory, just like lottery balls do -

REJ:- 'Ball number 7! - that's the fifth time this year for ball number 7!' -

MNW:- Exactly. And that affects future lottery draws. Because the balls can remember. They talk amongst themselves you know -

REJ:- I knew it! -

MNW:- Yes, lottery balls are the worst gossips!. Now water has memory. But it also has amnesia. And some things are best forgotten. Like faeces -

REJ:- Water has taste! -

MNW:- You are so clever. Yes water has taste. And remembers poison. But not poison. Er...other poison. That's how it works. -

REJ:- Well you've convinced me, and I didn't come down in the last shower! -

MNW:- You are such a customer. Shall we skip the people who have died of cancer by renouncing conventional medicine? -

REJ:- I think that's best. There are too many knockers in the world -

MNW:- Well said. And you can't take it with you - the money you know -

REJ:- Best spent while you're alive! On necrotic banshees like yourself! -

MNW:- Thankyou, Richard. I think you've seen how it works clearer than most. Now about the ancient wisdoms of people who used to eat each other. So much is lost by the tedious and methodical conventional science of today! -

REJ:- Like Chinese medicine! -

MNW:- Yes! And they have lived for thousands of years. Somehow longer than everybody else. Antiquity lends credence to horseshit, that can only be so. Thousands of years is a long time, Richard, and the few centuries of actually fucking checking things is very recent and thus irrelevant. -

REJ:- I see. All very well for aeroplanes and whatnot, but irrelevant when it comes to the Gullibo effect. -

MNW:- You are so right! The Gullibo effect is carelessly ignored by science! You would think they would have double-blind tests to ensure against it or something! -

REJ:- Too much to hope for. They just haven't though about it. -

MNW:- They are afraid of testing new ideas, Richard. That's why progress can never be made through science -

REJ:- Show me a close-minded dogmatist and I'll show you a scientist! -

MNW:- Forty pounds for a whole-body Chakra re-alignment! -

REJ:- The money's yours! And I was wondering if you could kill my children unwittingly. I hope you don't just fleece terminally ill geriatric cancer patients -

MNW:- Certainly not! All avoidable deaths effected and catered for. No fool too old or too young. Or too desperate. When you've got the gift -

REJ:- The gift? -

MNW:- Yes. I can talk to dead people too. Although they generally don't say anything interesting for some reason... -

REJ:- Could be Alzheimer's -

MNW:- Indeed. Now once I realised I had the gift, my accountant wondered if there could be other income streams. I mean gifts. Naturally my thoughts turned to cardboard. If water had memory, and amnesia, could cardboard tell the future? Nothing was less logical. Obviously not just cardboard, that would be silly. Cardboard with pictures on. -

REJ:- Tarot-tastic! And if you did 2 readings in a row, exactly the same cards would turn up! Because that is the future! Which the cardboards can tell! -

MNW:- Well no. It's not quite as simple as that. Different cards may turn up. Although I've never tried it as I don't think particularly well -

REJ:- You're more a doer than a thinker! -

MNW:- Yes. Although I've just made up an excuse. And that is that a different future is discerned because one has re-dealt and re-influenced the cardboards. By mechanisms I haven't thought of yet -

REJ:- Well that's fantastic! One could re-deal, and re-influence, until the future turns up just what we want it to be! And then it would happen! because of the cardboards! -

MNW:- the cardboards with pictures on -

REJ:- Yes. Lets not be silly. Because of the cardboards with pictures on. But do you have a particular way of working? -

MNW:- Well all therapies must be individually tailored, Richard. We all have such different lives. No two people are the same. In fact, the most one could say with any confidence is that 500 million people will have the same day. -

REJ:- 500 million! the numbers are astrological! -

MNW:- Yes, mind-boggling. -

REJ:- You do seem quite boggled. Now about Ouija boards. Could Ouija boards, ground up and diluted, and injected into crystals, and shoved up unicorns bottoms, on a tuesday, - could they make caterpillars lethargic? -

MNW:- Very possibly. Your line of reasoning seems solid, and we should not be afraid to ask the question. What reasonable person, scientists aside, would not want to know? Only someone scared, Richard, someone afraid of truth. But I do see one problem immediately. -

REJ:- What's that? -

MNW:- There's no money in it. Or dead children. So I'm afraid it's a no from me.


FIN.

Poem for the day

Sigh. Today's poem is by Dilwyn ap Gwynedd of sleepy racist mid-wales town, Machynlleth. Dilwyn ap Gwynedd sports a tatty beard and individual beret, and has not worked for forty years or ever. Yet he is an expert in economics and wealth creation! Take it away, Dilwyn ap Gwynedd! -

DaG:- *cough* -

'Laissez-faire, laissez-faire,
Doesn't happen anywhere -
All bucked and rigged hypocrisy
So far the meritocracy.

Free marketeers - such quaint ideas!
Your faith delights and tickles
Throughout the land, Smith's hidden hand
Is not there, neither trickles.

Now watch the cake, the workers make,
Consider your net slice.
Are you a whore, and taking more? -
A quick glance will suffice!

Not hard to learn, the slip says 'earn',
The word means what you're paid.
But is it fine? the bottom line?
Or more than what you made?

The dismal art, gosh it's so hard!
And better left to others!
Not yet complete, we must compete!
Lest we become as brothers.'


REJ:- Very nice, Dilwyn. But I think you'll find it's a bit more complicated than that! - er...cake slice taken....minus iced buns given back....ingredients created....recipe ideas....um....everlasting candles....invisible decorations....serving suggestions....kitchen facilitation....sink maintenance....er....crumbs!...what about your crumbs?! - and you've baked nothing!....er... -

DaG:- Let's pool our resources! -

REJ:- No thanks, you've got fuck all -

DaG:- Lend us a fiver! -

REJ:- Piss off.

For a friend, a broad, abroad.

Those who seek God now know why He hides.
Outshone by a mortal, and questions He fears
Disappear Him to cower in the shadow of her light.
Are the stars gods and angels? like the ancients say?
They fade into nothing by her Sun.
And, louder than prayers, her actions spoke inspiration,
And those in the sunlight, reflected brighter.
What more could she do? people asked, then she did -
Then again! and then more, until the question faded
Into wonder and awe, and secret wishes around the world
That one day we might do the same.
But this was just vanity. Her mother chose well.

The strange case of Dr. Bendi:- part the third, of one hundred, and quite enough to be getting on with for now diolch yn fawr iawn.

.....and they will! they will say it Richard! they will say they don't want to live in a computer!...in a feeble simulation of reality!....in an artificial model!....that is what they will say!....the ghost-people!....the magic men!...and menywod!....they will say they prefer to live in authentic reality!!!....whoop!....whoop!....as if they see in microwaves!!!.....as if they are not machines!....as if they are not computers!....tic!...tic!....Kapliiiiiink!...they will say they will shun the silicon rapture!....because they prefer a superior reality!....and that is why they will jump first!....the irony!....delicious!....immortality shall be the death of us!!!...mmmnnnnnssskk!!!...

*click!*

REJ:- Aw!...ffwrch y Diawl!!!....*slam!* -

Dr.B:- Goodbye Richard!, I've got to go myself in three hours -

REJ:- *screeeeeech!...beep!...beep!* -

Dr.B:- Now there was something important I had to say about probability....probability and happiness....hmmmm.....something about memory compression too....and DNA transcription....yes...Bendi-epigenetics....yes that was it! - something about that....hmmmm....I'll tell it to this plant pot -

Plantpot:- *-*

Dr.B:- Indeed. So we talked about constructive versus destructive projection, and the probabilities of reciprocal affection. There are no laws - that would be absurd - and the only law that there isn't is that there are no laws. That is not a law! -

Plantpot:- *-*

Dr.B:- Good point. But wrong. There are no laws. So the energy in a room may spontaneously gather in a solid block of metal and the metal heat up, yet the probabilities are the other way, and blocks of metal cool....yet there is no law...just more places that are not the metal block! kaddrrriiiiing! -

Plantpot:- *-*

Dr.B:- Well only if you are pedantic. It's not a law really. Please don't interrupt mid-soaring! -

Plantpot:- *-*

Dr.B:- Now, no bird soars too high with it's own wings Icarus, but Dr.Bendi is wingless! Wheep! Wheep!...and I'm approaching hyperdrive!...the cogs are melting!...the cogs are melting! -

Plantpot:- *-*

Dr.B:- And so the probabilities of mutual affection flow surely







*******drivel in progress*******

The strange case of Dr. Bendi:- part the second, of one hundred.

....and thus morality is a cultural artefact, an extended phenotypical expression, trivially obviously so, immaterial! yet mapped in material, automatic and with greater clarity in plant altruism as I said, - only clearer to speciesists of course! there are speciesists, Richard!, and anyone who searches for morality is as dumb as someone who searches for the average IQ. Even if they're called Sam....

*click!*

REJ:- Iesu Mawr Grist Emmanuel Diawl!!! - you're still here!!! -

Dr.B:- Bore da, Richard! -

REJ:- Bore da...er...have you been talking all night?....er....to nobody? -

Dr.B:- The merit of a performance does not depend on it's audience, Richard. There is none fit to clap me anyway. I really don't mind that neither you nor Sioned gave me the clap - and I had heard -

REJ:- Watch it Bendiboy! -

Dr.B:- Yes, that is what they said. Now, moving on -

REJ:- What did I miss last night? - I mean, if I were interested. Which I'm not. No-one is -

Dr.B:- I'm not a preacher, Richard. You missed the end of humanity, the silicon rapture, the cashmere revolution, mind re-mapping and the dendritic decision delta, justice scale-weighting in the biological bible, the evolution of consciousness, which doesn't exist, the -

REJ:- Well Duw! what a shame I have to wash my hair! -

Dr.B:- That won't take long! - don't mind me, Richard. Now...there was something very important I had to say about numbers... -

REJ:- * - 07985294774!....Sioned!...he's still here!!!....What?!....I did!.....yes I did!....I just didn't do what you said.....* -

Dr.B:- Ah yes! - there are only 3 or 4 people in the world, ten at the most -

REJ:- *....it's like he's on some kind of continuous loop....what?....well I thought you were just being stupid....no!...no! I didn't mean....not like that!.....no don't hang up!....tell me what to do!....* -

Dr.B:- archetypes! that's the word you were looking for! Ideas I mean. There are only 3 or 4 ideas in the world, ten at the most -

REJ:- *....yes....in the shed.....it will be in the shed.....yes....yes....then what?....yes....yes....yes.....to crack a nut. Very good. Da iawn Sioned you ff - *click!...* - Dammo! -

Dr.B:- and though 10 billion would fit in Wales -

REJ:- Is that ideas or people? -

Dr.B:- Yes. And cast off their mortal shackles would fit happily in your pants drawer there -

REJ:- That's my socks drawer -

Dr.B:- pants, socks - the nature of the material platform is of no consequence -

REJ:- I always wanted to try drugs...-

Dr.B:- Although unconnected would now uninfluence future events, hmmm...the inter-self buffering in the symbiotic hypermind would seem to be a problem in the alternate case....Ooops! I said all this last night! there was something important I had to say about numbers -

REJ:- Well I wouldn't mind a go on your magic abacus you -

Dr.B:- Ah yes! Please don't interrupt, Richard - it will take longer if I have to explain it. There are 200 people in the world -

REJ:- 5 to 10 years for manslaughter...

Dr.B:- 200 country-people! the self is fluid! whoop! whoop! drrrrrring! - yes the self-concept is fluid, Richard and may extend beyond the periphery of the body to incorporate tools, or countries -

REJ:- Just carry on...

Dr.B:- the self-concept is projected to incorporate nation! Kadrrring! tic! tic! - and is modelled as super organism and mirror-neuroned offense and defense empathy in the personal self! The personal self that thinks it is a nation! And talks to flags! And like the haplodiploid sacrifice for the hive, the sums make sense though the actions don't...

REJ:- Fuck this! *click!* *slam!*

Dr.B:- And though what is nobody's business is never nogene's business and we are all in each other, all waves but all water, the oneness of geneticity, the homeopathy of kin selection is invalid in this case as I explained last night, and will again, and the decision delta, dendritic in nature, as I may have said, may be dammed and diverted upstream at the higher self, without the map of the downstream! - without understanding! hox thoughts! the subconscious being previous imprinted conscious and conscious being an illusion, but the perfect illusion, the...

The strange case of Dr. Bendi:- part the first, of one hundred.

Descartes presupposed logic, Hume said facts don't exist - and that's a fact, Immanuel - Oooh! - I think I saw one of her films! -

Dr.B:- Just read the card! -

REJ:- Well I've lost my place now. You made me jump -

Dr.B:- You can stop now -

REJ:- Is it charged up enough? -

Dr.B:- You've completely spoilt the intro.....*chhhhnnnn!*....*whir!*...yes it's going now -

REJ:- Can I get off the trampoline? -

Dr.B:- I can't see any trampoline, Richard, so -

REJ:- Alright! alright! - can I get off the dynamotransergorator? -

Dr.B:- What do you say?! -

REJ:- Can I get off the dynamotransergorator os gwelwch yn dda? -

Dr.B:- I've forgotten which of the nine words for yes I should use, so have the Queen's 'yes' -

REJ:- God bless her! - er...you're not from machynlleth are you? -

Dr.B:- Remember your Popper, Richard -

REJ:- Popper...induction....verisimilitude....I'm not dead....Oooh! you're not.

Dr.B:- We're all dead, Richard, consciousness is an illusion, the perfect illusion, that's why it's not there when you try to find it! Because it's not there! Do the bit about Sam Harris -

REJ:- Descartes...Hume....Popper....Sam Harris -

Dr.B:- *snort!*

REJ:- Why did you put Sam in there? -

Dr.B:- Part comedy, part cruelty. You'll see more of my parts later -

REJ:- Indeed. I already have inthought. Now Sioned said something about not letting you in -

Dr.B:- Words of wisdom, Richard, words of wisdom. I'm high as a kite! and my string is taught and fraying!...it may snap!....whoop! whoop!...my beautiful tail!....look at the ribbons!...I'm soaring!...my beautiful tail!....dancing in the sky!...-

REJ:- Yes well you can stay as long as you don't say anything silly. Sioned said you might say something silly -

Dr.B:- There's no danger of that! None whatsoever. As a matter of fact I was going to talk about numbers -

REJ:- Numbers? - well that sounds -

Dr.B:- Yes numbers. Numbers and ghosts -

REJ:- hmmm...

Dr.B:- There are only 3 or 4 people in the world, Richard, ten at the most -

REJ:- Just carry on. I'll wait until you run out. I hate it when she's -

Dr.B:- And 6 billion of them -

REJ:- That's more than ten! -

Dr.B:- No, that's one. And six billion of them think they are ghosts. -

REJ:- Just keep going....Sioned be back soon -

Dr.B:- Six billion think they are ghosts!...WOOOO!...I'm a ghost!...WOOOO!....look at me!....I'm a ghost!!!....WOOOO!!!...I'm a magic man!...WOOOO!!!....I'm a magic lady!.....WOOOOO!!!...I'm a -

REJ:- Iesu Grist! - bloody Tescos twoforonebogoff isn't it Sioned?!...then she'll be talking to the check out merched, then she'll be talking to the bloody wrong number on the phone for half an hour...then -

Dr.B:- WOOOO!!!....People thinking they're ghosts Richard!....WOOOO!!!!....ghosts!!! -

REJ:- *...'in case of emergency strike head with this'...* *clunk!* -

DR.B:- Diolch! Yes as I was saying, there are dualists among us. Dualism is the default and wired-in position of children, Richard, and for a very good reason -

REJ:- And what is that? -

Dr.B:- They are stupid! Yes! magic or machines, machines or magic. That is what we are, us humans. And we're a bit old to be believing in magic aren't we Richard? -

REJ:- We are. What?! - it's not magic to believe you're...I mean - machines!...er...transcendence!...um....that's it! - what about the transcendence?. You gopping-minga-mong! -

Dr.B:- Well it's not very transcendent is it? - can't transcend the smallest cut in the wire can it? lol! - as the young people say. I believe I may have just pwned you Richard. Although I'm not quite sure what that means -

REJ:- Yes well...er...it was nice of you to call -

Dr.B:- And that means we are machines! And machines can be fixed Richard! Within the physics of our spacetime! And we shall have immortality! for the drivers at the level of the self are trivially simple! and we know them personally, and we can't know future technology, but we can know what we shall try to do! However silly! However stupid the drivers of the program are! Because they are evolved for a different environment! Yet the biological bible shall be obeyed! chapter and verse! - become as gods we shall answer our own prayers! -

REJ:- *text!* *Sioned!!! get back here and get this nutter out of here!* - *ok - if they really are 8 part-baked croissants for the price of four....go onlinephone and check Asda's price...* -

Dr.B:- Now, immortality shall be the death of us, the death of humanity -

REJ:- You're talking to yourself now space-cadet! la-la-la! Richard can't hear you! -

Dr.B:- Well then, as that doesn't matter - the end of humanity being far from a nihilistic view...-

REJ:- la-la-la! -

Dr.B:- I shall tell you instead of Dr. Bendi's marvellous theory of mind. And how it works. And how it is trivially manipulated. And how there are only 3 or 4 or tenatthemost in the world. And how we can manipulate them all. And make everybody happy. And -

REJ:- David Icke! Sam Harris! la-la-la! loony tunes! la-la-la! -

Dr.B:- You mistake me for a stupid person, Richard. Perhaps because of the flashing eyes, the floating hair! -

REJ:- Perhaps because of the floating horseshit! - tell me then of your theory of mind. And whether you have seen an elephant fly or not. -

Dr.B:- I haven't. That would be incongruent with reality absolute. Yet not ruled out before spacetime. Before physics, when there was no physics. When there was no where. When there was no when. Do you know how probability works outside of spacetime, Richard?

REJ:- She must be back soon...-

Dr.B:- There exists, in every normal person, two genies. The -

REJ:- Jesus Christ!!! -

Dr.B:- The Goethe-magic genies. Now the bad genie must be uncorked, and vented to atmos, and diffused and defunct....and the good genie must be kept bottled, yet released -

REJ:- wibble! - you said there was no such thing as ghosts! -

Dr.B:- I'm being metaphorical! -

REJ:- I've heard that before! -

Dr.B:- And released geared through the cogs and chains of constructive reason, with the Watt steam-governer of scepticism, yet the fiery belly of passion, while outside all remains a purposeless collapse into chaos -

REJ:- Time to go I think! - *click!* - *slam!* -

Dr.B:- Oooh! it's dark!...anyway, the steamoflife zest good-genie must be channeled through the switches of the delta of the mind thought-river, which can be considered as bifurcating steam-valve-decision-rivulets, and the switches are transloadable with the weighting of the zip-memes. The zip-memes are...

Aladdin and the magic vote.

What is this life if full of care
We have no time to torture Blair?

Five and twenty thrice-nine miles,
cross the hills and o'er the stiles,
takes you where the wonders whiles,
and long past reason crosses.

Yes. That is what it says on the footpath postulates from Llanwrthwl to Llanwrtyd via Llanbloodysteephill. But is electoral reform something that can be trusted to our elected representatives? Or is there a conflict of inertia? What if votes really counted - and stupid people had their say? All these are trivial questions, but to pretend they are serious, we turn to no less than Aladdin, prince of noble savage gypsies, and Michael Jackson's favourite videogrammatical character. 'Let's get Aladdin' he would squeak to Tito and the one of the other ones. And drink some 'Jesus juice'. etc.

Now when Aladdin rubbed his magic vote, a genie - a popular mythical thing - appeared, and granted him three laws that would do fuck all...

Uncle Joe and the faithful glow

Now today we aren't bothering with the intro - you should be able to write them yourselves by now if you've been concentrating at all. Sioned does something, REJ does something, someone from the village does something, and then something happens. Today Stalin happens. So without delay - it's R - E - J!. And Stalin.

REJ:- Hello Stalin! -

JS:- Watcher!... 'choo! -

REJ:- Dostoevesky! -

JS:- Spassiba. It must be the kittens - *hanky!* - I was in the wardrobe by the way -

REJ:- Yes, yes! - we're skipping all that....er....what were you doing in the wardrobe? -

JS:- It's personal if you don't mind -

REJ:- No!...don't mind at all!....um....what do you mean 'personal'?! -

JS:- You know...personal -

REJ:- Have to help me -

JS:- *mime!* -

REJ:- Three words - yes! - first word...sounds like...

JS:- *mime!* -

REJ:- search!...dig!....delve!....sounds like delve!....second word...sounds like...

JS:- *mime!* -

REJ:- bangry!....dangry!....sounds like dangry!.....third word....sounds like...

JS:- *cluck! cluck! peck!* -

REJ:- Delve dangry chickens!....no?....hens!...Delve dangry hens!...

JS:- *excited!* -

REJ:- Twelve angry men! You were watching 'Twelve angry men'! You always liked trials! -

JS:- You got it! - and that didn't look forced at all, Richard. Very subtly done as always. And not a whiff of plagiarism -

REJ:- Just another word for flattery old bean! -

JS:- I understand perfectly! -

REJ:- I think you have to say you went over the allotted time...

JS:- But I seem to have gone over the allotted time, Richard -

REJ:- Well stop beating yourself so hard Stalin, there's not many that could pull off 'twelve angry men' in under two minutes. Not in my wardrobe anyway -

JS:- That's not what Glyn-the-milk told -

REJ:- Let's not fall out, Stalin!....Now I understand you attended the Georgian orthodox seminary -

JS:- You do know a wiki lot, Richard. Yes that's correct. And it was at the seminary that I first learned the power of faith, or the 'glow' as I call it -

REJ:- the glow? -

JS:- Yes the glow - you know the glow - you see it in the moon-faced baptists and the lovers in gorky park - the glow! -

REJ:- I'm not quite following you -

JS:- Don't worry I've got us both covered -

REJ:- And they said you didn't care! -

JS:- If one person says you don't care that's a divorce. If a million people say you don't care that's a statistic. hahaha! I haven't lost it! -

REJ:- The stuffing suits you! -

JS:- Diolch. Yes I learnt that facts are not important. I was always slightly eccentric, perhaps unusual even...people said I was a psychopath -

REJ:- How cruel! -

JS:- People are, Richard, people are. But that was not important either. A psychopath is only one in a million - very lonely - and can't do much at all without the glow. How many did I kill by the wiki way? -

REJ:- Oh millions Joe, millions! - you did really well! -

JS:- Wrong, Richard, sadly wrong. It was only a handful really. Same goes for my Austrian friend. He had the glow too, that boy. I had one testicle more though -

REJ:- Well hold onto that -

JS:- I do! - I think I win overall anyway, if you count my boys he killed - the rules are not clear from the youtube discussions -

REJ:- It is a bit hazy -

JS:- It is....but I wanted to say that the trick is to get others to join in. That was my main point. And the trick is the glow! faith! silly ideas! that is what the seminary taught me. It's amazing what people will believe. There are limits of course -

REJ:- Of course! -

JS:- I doubt for instance you could get people to mutilate their own children's genitals say - just by using the glow -

REJ:- Unthinkable! -

JS:- Yes. People are not that silly. But they are silly enough to get to travel thousands of miles to kill people they haven't met before! - even if it's snowing! -

REJ:- Well, perhaps the formaldehyde -

JS:- No, really! - hear me out! I'm not joking! Just some tunes - singsongs - a bit of dressing up...say things confidently - wrong with confidence! - people like confidence, strong leadership - that sort of thing - we all miss our daddies! -

REJ:- I doubt just that would work -

JS:- Doubt away! I did it! you should hear what I they did! It's hilarious! No need for your google-eyes! I shall tell you now, and you can check it later if you are of a suspicious nature. You realise we can't go on together with suspicious minds. Of course you do! I forget who I'm talking to! - but seriously, Richard -

REJ:- Serious is what I do! -

JS:- They won't see it Richard! That's what I'm trying to say! Have fun instead. I met this peasant down the pub - Lysenko or something - and I told him I didn't like Darwin -

REJ:- Who does?! -

JS:- And I said I was going to stop proper biology being taught in schools. Kill the teachers - that sort of thing...anyway - I said give ush... gis ush...a...gish ush a Russian biology instead...you peasant!...like when I told the bomb boffins they couldn't use Einstein's equations! lol! they said they had to so I said I had to shoot them! it still cracks me up! -

REJ:- And did he? -

JS:- God yes! - ooops! I forgot I wasn't meant to be religious! I just took silly ideas on faith and banned critical thinking. Not religious at all! -

REJ:- Not remotely! -

JS:- There is a difference you see - between a theocracy and a faithocracy.....and a glowocracy -

REJ:- er...yes! -

JS:- Oh I'm glad you're clever enough to see it! I did worry I might be mistakenly remembered as an unbeliever! I believed the most ridiculous shit ever! That would be hilarious if -

REJ:- Rest easy Joe! You are remembered for running the glowfaithocracy you did. No worries there. People aren't that stupid -

JS:- But I thought they were! - you must understand...after what I got them to do...you must see how I might think -

REJ:- No, we've grown up a lot since then - you'd just be laughed at these days -

JS:- Really? - you mean it wouldn't work now? - Let me guess!...it was the camera things! I knew it! I knew they'd spoil all the killing! You could never get the folks back home, the nice ones, to agree to all of it if they had to see it themselves! - Oh, I'd have to censor the news if I wanted to do it all again today -

REJ:- I'm afraid the media is all free now Joe, governments are not allowed to censor the news anymore - only in times of war...er...etc...um... -

JS:- Shame! I had such fun when people were kept stupid! The acorn forests in Siberia! lol! The miracle harvests! I'm sorry...I've wet myself!...millions starved!...and all those dead evolutionists!....the fittest!...fittest my arse! I shot the lot!...I mean my boys did - because of the glow. I hardly had to do anything! -

REJ:- Indeed. Well as you appear to be nuts, and not fit to run a bath, and more pertinently, as Sioned is coming up the stairs...I must ask you to glow away. Because you are a ffwrch.

Poem for the muse

The flint is struck, the fuse is lit
They cannot know the why of it
Nor how by Blake's immortal hands
Twas set, no reason understands

The fiery God can shine no light
As deep as love nor e'er so bright
As shadows fall by reason's dial
In darkness we are drunk awhile

Now words drop careless golden sands
Of dreams escaping sieve-like hands
But none til death can ever rest
Save honouring life's noblest quest.

Paradise Lost, Monopoly dice regained

Bore da once eto. I think it was Goethe who said:-

'Whatever you can do,
or dream you can - begin it!
Boldness has magic but -
for base-jumping a parachute helps innit.'

I'm sure it scanned better in German. A funny thing happened to me earlier today - when I was hunting under the bed for the monopoly dice. I had just rolled what might have been a 5 and a 2, or a 6 and a 3, and I was either going to land on Park Lane or Mayfair. Sioned - the little dog - had a hotel on Mayfair, but only 4 houses on Park Lane. The difference in rental income was significant enough to merit a full sub-gwely hand-groping and she wasn't about to fall for my 'Super Tax' compromise offer. Sharp with the arian that one. Anyway - and you won't believe this! - no, not Dick Van Dyke, Laurie, that would be absurd - he's far too busy. Ever since he bought that production company the roles have been flooding in. No Vans anywhere near my bed I can tell you. And no, not concrete econopoet Milton Keynes either. It was in fact saucer-eyed opium eater and Porlockophobe Samuel Taylor Coleridge! Under my bed. Yes.




*****drivel in progress*****

Alas I am interrupted by the man from Porlock and must return another day...I shall do Stalin next instead...

Poem for the day

Morcambe and Wise and Laurel and Hardy
Only two were geniuses
Slept in a bed together forever
And nobody thought of their peniuses

Adolf Eichmann, Dame Julie of Andrews, and The Promised Land

Now as Sioned lay easy under the apple bough, stoned first - in contrast to the muslim way - I saw my window to notputthosebloodyshelvesupagain and rather wikipants the silly made-up country that of Israel. I-wouldn't-start-from-here-Israel has enjoyed a short but exciting history, and is blessed by God to be situated atop vast natural resources of American wealth. But how did this happy tale begin in the beginning? Well the first three letters are ABC doh-ray-me and A is for Adolf. Adolf Eichmann! Croeso i LLanfihangel-y-Creuddun! -

AE:- Fuhrer in Himmel! Ze line you are vanting ist 'Lets start at the very beginning, a zehr gut place to start'. Sipsidumnkopf! -

REJ:- We'll see about that my duck-stepping friend! For in my pants-drawer...here!...I have nun-other than Dame Julie of Andrews! - for some reason I haven't thought of yet, curiously transhrunken to the form and size of a fliederhausmaus -

DJA:- Da-Da! - *flap! flap! flap!* -

REJ:- Oooh! that entrance worked better than even I had dared hope! -

AE:- Vot ist this?! Ein flippen-flappen batten mit die tiny hausmaus-bappen?! Herr Richard! - Ich haben ein zehr gut sense of humours...aber this ist ein new one on me. You play ze little joke mit me ya? - Der Fuhrer vas always ze playing of ze little jokes -

REJ:- No joke, SS-Obersturmbannführer! Dame Julie of Andrews has been hiding in my pants-drawer for just this kind of musical lyrical adjudicational eventuality. And to keep the moths down -

AE:- Aha! - So there vas a reason!!!. Sie will find wir getten on much better mit ze cooperation. Ve have ways of making you -

DJA:- Eichmann! Put that potato-peeler down at once! -

AE:- Pardon Nanny Poppins? -

DJA:- Sorry - Put zat potato-peeler down schnell! -

AE:- Ach! - just ein tinybischen lampenshaden -

DJA:- Nein!.

AE:- *sulk!* -

DJA:- Gut SS-Obersturmbannführer! *pat!* - Now perhaps this spoon full of sugar will help...you were right! - *sings!* - 'Let's start at the very beginnnnninnnng! - a zehr gut place to staaaaaart!' -

AE:- Victory is mine!!! - take that TommyJones-Welshlander! *sings!* - 'Kein Velt Vars aber drei Velt cups! - doo dah...doo dah! - Kein Velt Vars aber drei Velt cups...'-

REJ:- 1954. We qualified. Nawrte Adolf! Du hast won dim ond the battle, nicht yr ryfel. And so I ask, gyda a gladsome mind, just beth sy wedi happened yn 1937?

AE:- Ach ya! 1937! Ich had a dream. That ein day ze Judenmensch vould reach ze Promised Land! Ze Judenmensch problem -

REJ:- Vot Vas ze Judenmensch problem? -

AE:- Ein joke, yes nein? -

REJ:- Kein Judenmensch here so du will hast to say me -

AE:- Die Judenmensch passen die exams at school und make me look ein thicky. Und die Judenmensch macht gut at ze mechanics und make me look ein thicky again. Und ven I had zat next job arbeiting at ze mining company Ich failed number drei! - aber not because Ich war ein thicky - Nein! - Es was die Judenmensch! -

REJ:- Bastards! - and they do have big noses -

AE:- Ya! Ya! - Ve did ze French gut too ya? -

REJ:- For a while...nawrte! - Ble did you get the promised land idea from? -

AE:- Es ist in der magic book! 'Moses Kampf'. Aber Ich jazzed it up ein bit. Plan A was Ich putten all ze Judenmensch in Palestine. So Ich flew out there und said how it vas ein zehr gut idea. Aber the British said it vas silly. Nein! they said. Es ist ein silly idea. Und du bist being ein thicky again -

REJ:- Und what was plan B? -

AE:- Plan B was to send them all to the promised land also -

REJ:- Well there's lovely! They must have been so grateful -

AE:- Du would think so. Aber they hanged me. Spielberg owes me a million too. Ich always gettens kein credit for mein szuper ideas -

REJ:- If only your dream had come true! The Judenmensch living happily all together in sunny Palestine! -

AE:- Ya, ya...Ich had even written down how zay could take ze lebensraum und killen ze neighbours at 10:1 - like when ve occupied ze countries on ze Fuhrer's Velt tour -

REJ:- Oh but you could never have got them to do that! -

AE:- Nein. This time I really vas being ein thicky. Zay have no sense of irony.

Poem for the day

Like Alph, the scared river ran away flows surely to the sea, so kittens cannot peel carrots with their mazy motions. Some things were meant to be. Yet some things weren't - other things for the most part. That is the question. Now! we have had a complaint! From a certain Frewtkayke from the land of piped yet unbepanted males. It reads - with my assistance - 'Dear Richard Emmanuel Jones. Your last poem was for me a bit short. Contemplating nothingness is for me a wasted journey. I am an accounting lecturer of and contemplating nothiness is not what I do. Please could you write a longer one - perhaps with words as well as gap...' ...something about ponies...that sort of thing...Well indeed yes! it was more erring on the side of concision. And so here is that gap expanded to fruition...

Rest! and closed unconscious eyed unstream
The fork-ed river down the pebbled dream
The weft and weave, the gravel-knitted bream
Of shimmering rock eternal hides the gleam.

Stay! and breathe imagine ponder o'er the hills
The winter fights the air the summer kills
The sky-split light, the furrow-frowned in stills
Of flickering film eternal play the wills.

Wake! and stare down nature yonder open eyed
The glare of hope, the thoughts asunder spied
The life eternal crossed the moat belied
Of castles sky-built all who never died.

And what! of golden-soaring sparkle strike the fuse
My northern light, my ever shining muse.

Poem for the day

Dog show at Nantmel:- The hairless Hitch and the walnut witch

International death-camp empressario and prune-faced-walnut-witch, 'Our Mam' Teresa-nun of Abercalcutta, claims to have proof-facial that dinosaurs had scrotums. Hairless alcopopinjay ad-lib-rehearsing name-dropper and bridge-ox cancer-bookworm, Christopher Hitchjones counter-claims (just to be awkward) that his friend Richard Dawkins says the striking similarity is merely an example of convergent evolution. What better way to settle the question that has confounded my finest minds since the dawn of eating those mushrooms, than to let the two conflicting ideas compete, in canine form, at the Nantmel dog show 2010 annual festive and gala picnic outing-day. event.

REJ:- Now, Hitchjones, you are going to be a Saint Brandy-Bernard, and Teresa-nun, you are going to be a Shar-Pei from 'ble mae bobl melyn yn byw' - as the song goes. From when songs were allowed to be racist. Although they're still yellow even if you don't say it... -

HH:- Richard!...,ladies,...gentlemen,...comrades....brothers, sisters...-

REJ:- What is it Hitchjones? I can't say f-f-f...I can't make it clearer than that! Diawl yffern! -

HH:- Richard, am I to understand that you intend to actually transfiguremorphify us into dogs, rather than have us metaphorically represented by canineular quadruwolfs? -

REJ:- Shut up and eat this dog-wafer. You too Teresa-nun, and chins-up please, Meinir Philips will be judging -

TN:- Loneliness is the most terrible poverty -

REJ:- Yes, yes - we've all hugged Diana...*strokes necks*....Swallow! - good boy!...good girl!...that's it!...dyna ni!...Nawrte boysss! - although you're now dogs, minus-millionaire almost-has-been inventuallist dream-weaver Phil the Rimmer has stolen from the office stationery cupboard these two Rosettatechno-dog-collars, what will translate that which what you are woofing. Otherwise it might be silly. Nawrte...gadewch i ni see if it works...

*hoof!*

HH:- I am an American Jew. woof.

*hoof*

TN:- My mission was to increase suffering. woof.

REJ:- hmmm....02748673921....Rimmer!...RIMMER!...are you sure...yes - the LEDs are pretty....yes - fresh batteries from Sioned....no - I haven't got 4 million...you spent the last 4 million on....yes - you remember now don't you?...yes...that's it...- and did the clockwork goat-ticklers...yes...the market...yes...more LEDs....yes that does sound a bit harsh....probably jealousy....I know....well he's probably a bit nervous after that loan you got from Northern Rock....yes....not your fault....not all your fault...look! Rimmer! I've got to go as Hitchjones dog is pestering the beagles for a fag....yes...you too....they kick in after about 3 weeks I'm told....no...no, not a good idea....no, you keep taking them....he's not a ghostnazi...no, he's a very nice doctor...poisoning your water?....no, that isn't nice but....*Clunk!* I'll buy another one -

HH:- Exquisite!...like Albanian raisins! - yet...peppery...the high notes play an olfactory contralto to the -

REJ:- Good, good, I see you're getting to know each other...Hitchjones dog! don't do that Joyce Grenfell -

HH:- Bet you wish you could - woof.

REJ:- No thankyou diolch...perhaps my own, but not yours. Nawrte! Mae'r sioe yn beginning! -

*chhhhhhhhhh!....testing...testing...un dau un dau....is it on? - Bore da! a chroeso i'r Nantmel dog show 2010 annual festive and gala picnic outing-day! event! Rydyn ni'n very pleased to have with us Mayor Donefuckall....blablablabla.....the first event is! - the egg and spoon race! Please take your positions - *

TN:- Shitbags! wtf?! egg and spoon race?!! ffs! that's all my training fucked! - woof.

HH:- I am Jefferson's biographer...in a small way...I think it was Mr Clemens who said of boasting - woof.

REJ:- You'll miss the start! You'll miss the start! Get these doggles on Hitchjones dog...and Teresa-nun dog - don't do that Joyce Grenfell. Not that I was looking...

*Chhhhhhhhh! first prize for the egg and spoon race is this lovely tea-towel donated by...-*

TN:- Fuck! I'd look sexy in that!...I sense a 'miracle' coming on...woof.

*Chhhhhhhh!...Tri...dau...un....mynd!*

HH:- That should be 'ewch' surely...plural imperative....*trip!*...ooof!...bitch!...woof.

*And the winner is...Teresa-nun dog! Da iawn Teresa-nun dog!....Hitchjones dog - you are the loser!*

HH:- Yet I burned a beautiful light...woof.

*Next event is called 'stun the mule'. As the name suggests - competidogs must attempt to drink enough to stun a mule and there will be a special bonus prize for forgetting Trotsky. The prize - donated by Messrs Dubya shrub and Rictus grinblair is this delightful dead democratic Iraqi freed person-corpse....*

HH:- Strap me down and waterboard me! - woof.

TN:- You war-mongrel! You apologist for the invasion! - woof.

HH:- I'm not sure I could put it better myself...*pause*.....*glint-in-eye*....but you certainly couldn't. - woof.

*And the winner is...etc*

*Y gem nesaf is called 'hide the anaesthetic'. Competicurs must walk up and down the line of wailing pitiful agonised tortured dying peoples - donated by a Mr A. pathy - without cracking and giving them pain-relief. Because suffering brings them closer to God. And ban relatives visiting...and...oh that's enough to earn the prize - which is this 'I am super' badge...from the Pope...*

TN:- Oooh! I'd gladly kill thousands in as agonising a way as possible to win an 'I am super' badge from the Pope! - woof.

*and the winner...*

- Hang on...what's the score...ok....1 more to Hitch and then we're set up for a sudden-death decider...to see if dinosaurs had scrotums -

*The jeu prochain est called 'Quote someone cleverer than yourself'...*


REJ:- Well, Well boys bach! didn't they do well? etc. So it's the sudden-death decider! Paws on buzzers please! - Oh! Good God Iesu Mawr no!...stop that!...you two stop that now!....somebody get a bucket of water!....Oh I can barely watch!....bad doggies!... etc etc. Fin.

Poem for the day

Russian spam-bots ate my cheese! Mrs. Price-Hughes-the-butcher's has an eye for the sausage and a song in her heart. Unfortunately her heart-bone's connected to her mouth-bone in a way only a mammal-dicer could undertand. It sends the Zulus scarpering I can tell you. 'Paid a chanu until you see the whites of their eyes!' the villagers say to no effect. But it makes them feel better and that is what it's all about isn't it? Don't you? Indeed.

Today's poemical cat-dropped twitching blue-tit is a gem from the crown of one Dilwyn ap Gwilym. Dilwyn likes dandelions. Let me see if I can do his voice:-

'Could I' -

..I'll just tighten up my post-it pants...one of my more promising inventions I thought - every time I...well never mind -

Could I in silver-dotage soft sprite dream
Along the air aloft! alive! and broomless
Sweep upon the breeze or from a child's sweet
Wonder lips delight away! and up! To gaze
as hawk or kite the blanket patchwork green
and shine mist-tingled glisten bowed by droplets
Homing from the waves alight! upon my bed afar
Now coffee-ploughed and fresh love rained
So blessed with sleep tomorrow rise again?

No, Dilwyn my bach, I don't expect you could.

Dr. Venternstein and the gay tomatoes

Last night I dreamt I went to Mandelson again. Eyes of Caligula, mouth of Monroe, hairbrush of Heseltine, brain of Bush, sincerity of Blair....we have all dreamed of creating the perfect politician. But could our dreams ever become reality in reality? And could those dreams that had become reality in reality ever become nightmares? Or just go wrong a bit? Could politics ever stray from the path of righteousness to take a more sinister turn? Could people with beards, perhaps called names like Cook, or Kelly, ever find themselves unexpectedly dead for only innocent accidental reasons? - due to some sort of genetically engineered pogonophobic super-virus unrelated to adventures in Iraq? I don't think so, because I'm not a fruitcake in a labcoat...but my next guest is! - Dr. Craig Venternstein! -

CV:- Hello!

REJ:- Hello.

CV:- Hello?

REJ:- Hello. - Formalities over! - Now, Dr. Venternstein, you enfamously didn't finish sequencing the human genome months before that Collins fellow didn't finish it either. Did you bother in the end or did you say 'stick' rather than 'twist' at 90%? -

CV:- We agreed on 'stick' Richard, - do you know how boring it is? just millions and millions of the same thing jumbled up here and there - half of it nonsense...I doubt there's anything important in that 10% -

REJ:- Not worth looking really -

CV:- No, probably not.

REJ:- You got most of it done -

CV:- Yes, most of one person.

REJ:- Well, 'job done' then! -

CV:- Near enough. It is 2 billion base pairs long, Richard....or is it 3? - I can never remember - Igor does all the counting stuff -

REJ:- Really? Wow! - that's almost half as long as a locust's! -

CV:- Well locusts are very tricky...it's not a silly system at all. Yes, the human genome is so long that it would take a person 2 centuries just to read it. Or is it 3? -

REJ:- And you say you've read 90% of it? -

CV:- Correct.

REJ:- Yes....er....hmmmm....er....hmmmm....- This chair is rather uncomfortable! - for my back!...you see...yes! - I'd better pop myself down on the sofa over there...by the mirror. It's a lovely mirror isn't it? -

CV:- Yes, delightful -

REJ:- Would you like a closer look - the detail in the frame...

CV:- I'm sure it's fascinating -

REJ:- It really is worth getting up and taking a peek at...for the frame....and the way it is hung...er..from a very interesting nail -

CV:- I'll take your word for it, Richard -

REJ:- Well if you like I could bring it over -

CV:- There's really no need -

REJ:- No! - no need at all!...it's just...the -

CV:- The frame yes. Perhaps on the way out. Now, we weren't here to talk about mirrors were we Richard?! - we were here, and indeed still even may be, to reflect upon the wonders of genetical engineerings and my bank account -

REJ:- Indeed we were isn't it don't you yes lovely tidy. And Glyn-the-milk has some very strong views on this matter I can tell you. Since I know him. And he told me. I'll be seeing him later as it happens....once I've checked the sentencing tariffs - he says milk from a cloned cow got into the SPAR on West Street last week, and somethingmustbedone! -

CV:- That is terrible news Richard! We don't want exactly the same milk on our supermarket shelves! I'm afraid, once more, this proves science can be used for evil as well as good, and there is always grave danger inherent in meddling with powers beyond stupid people's comprehension. Although technically the milk would only be similar...not exactly the same. -

REJ:- Well similar is bad enough surely? -

CV:- It does sound irresponsible, yes. -

REJ:- Nawrte, there's someone else I know who has strong opinions too...she's small, she's round, she'll do it for a pound...yes! it's Sioned! Sioned said - when we were still talking that is - that you should stop being a twpsyn and do something useful for once. She said - and I'm trying to keep a straight face! - she said why can't he make something that eats Carbon Dioxide and poos Methane thus simultaneously giving us limitless energy and solving global warming and bla-di-bla...crops that feed the world...biological immortality....bla...bla...something else - I missed the rest of it as Shane Williams scored one of his wonder-tries and I had to do my celebration dance. Would you like to see it? - it goes like this:-

*dance!*

'Ole!, Ole! - Our Shane's gone all the way! - now sing the song, the rumour's wrong, great players can't be gay!'

*collapse!*

CV:- Gervais must be so proud. Yes Richard, I've come across people like your Sioned before -

REJ:- Not going to say it.

CV:- In the geneticist fraternity, this is known as 'double-X' thinking. Pure fantasy. The danger is such femi-flights-of-fancy are picked up by the media and blown out of all proportion. I just wish they would concentrate on the serious side for once. Like my work on luminous penises. -

REJ:- Luminous penises? -

CV:- Yes, transgenic todgers. By taking the appropriate genetic material from the jellyfish glowius globulous and inserting them into human embryos with a turkey baster - or whatever Igor does with the dungeon-ladies - I have been able to create the solution to lightbulbless nocturnal urination. Great for hitchhiking too. -

REJ:- Well duw! duw!, that never made it into the 'Rhayader and District Advertiser'. As you say, it's always amputee limb regrowth or cures for cancer and Alzheimers and never the serious stuff like ear-mice.

CV:- All those medical breakthroughs you keep hearing about are just scaremongering to sell newspapers, Richard. Don't be taken in! - Now about the gay tomatoes -

REJ:- Yes! the gay tomatoes....please explain! -

CV:- I was inspired by the late great mathematician, Alan Turingtest. Alan was very good at sums when he was alive - not so much now, - so good in fact that he could even do sums in German. -

REJ:- Goodness Iesu-mawr me! that is clever -

CV:- Indeed it was. But Alan Turingtest had a dark and sinister secret too...that only he and some very special friends knew...he was...a GAYER! -

REJ:- *Gasp!* -

CV:- I know. However, the disgusting pervert was extremely fortunate to be living in a time of hugely tolerant liberal attitudes and was spared the noose he deserved - providing he agreed to win the war and be turned into a woman. Like he was really.

REJ:- It's values like that we were fighting for! -

CV:- God bless the Queen! Back then though, transfeminisation technology was in it's infancy. The methods by which his liberation was attempted went sadly wrong, and he topped himself when only part-hooterised...

REJ:- Siomedig iawn! - She would have been so happy...

CV:- Undoubtedly. And so began my epic quest to seek a more genetical cure for the gaiety affliction. But first I had to understand. I had to understand just what would make tomatoes gay. As you couldn't be bothered to finish that OU Genetics SK589 course you started, and don't feel like looking up how it's done, I decided to do it Mendelian fashion - sort of more 'O' level like where you're at. -

REJ:- I'm straight back in 1987! - Arthur Williams Biology saying 'Canaliculi' and the girls at the back saying 'yesucanuli' - happy days! -

CV:- Whatever. - Yes, Mendelian fashion. I started selecting for tomatoes that were slightly nicer-looking, and kept their plant-pots tidier...grew sturdier listening to the Pet shop boys - that sort of thing -

REJ:- And did it work? -

CV:- Not quite! I only succeeded in making stereotypical gay tomatoes. And half-gay tomatoes. And I have my suspicions about some of the normal-looking ones too. It turns out to be more complicated than I had first thought. It's very hard to catch them at it too - my hypothesis that there would be pan-greenhouse toga-orgies on poppers 24-7 has not turned out to be true. That's only on fridays. They do smell nice though...mmmm!...lovely peachy curvy juicy-ripe...

REJ:- I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Some of my best friends know tomatoes, but there is a limit. I will not have tomatoes forced down my throat! Good day!

Poem for the day

Santa-bearded hocus-pocus close-up homosexuellist magician, James Randy, says on his electro-not-arachno-website that he will give me a million dollarpounds if I demonstrate the para-magic to his scientific satisfaction. Unfortunately, Yiddish spoon-bending would seem to be paramagica non grata, but I haven't let this put me off - think of the scratchcards! - and indeed I have enhatched a plot so cunning, that even Richard Curtis would be impressed. What I have done, you see isn't it, is post a letter-bomb to Uri Geller. Urrrii will then use his magic powerrrrrs to stare at the letter-bomb - as if constipated - and perhaps doing something embarassing with his hands, and then, having paramagically determined it's contents, put it to one side to be opened later by the cleaner. Once the newyddion gets to Randy he'll be straight over with the lolly, although something tells me he won't be staying at Mrs Pugh's Bed a Brecwast. Not in her house. I really hope Uri can do it!....only now I come to think of it, I've got that tenner in the biscuit tin...and there's probably some change down the back of the sofa...and under the car seat...hmmmm - the poem! I almost remembered. Today's poem is called 'ant'.

Ant

Last night I spied a wandering ant
a-pondering on Immanuel Kant
It sat beside a thoughtful flea
And talked epistemology
Or did I squash them with a broom?
- The flea he was a fan of Hume -
A spider abseiled silken-line
Then chipped in with some Wittgenstein
The mantis was a sulky creature
who spoilt the mood with quotes from Nietzsche
But still! - what fun it is to see
Arthropod philosophy.

Countdown to Charlton Heston

...Twenty-five plus six....divide by three...carry the one....times seventy-five...

*dada-dada-da-da-da-dah...doo!*

...take away the four...er...Diawl!

*'click!' - pause*

...add the seven....divide by...Aw dammit! - bloody stupid videogram recorder! Now Vorderman's all jiggling and I can't concentrate...

*'click!' - rewind*

*whir!*

*'click!' - play*

'Two big ones from your top row please Carol!' - hahaha! - if she played her cards right...Oooh! Sioned! you mustn't creep up on me like that! I was just -

SIONED:- Practising your sums...yes I know...and it's not the same without Richard Whiteley...

REJ:- It's not the same! -

SIONED:- And being naked helps cool your head so -

REJ:- So I'm better at the sums! Yes - we've been through all this...hang on a minute...I can't feel anything...aren't you going to sosban me?

SIONED:- Sosban yourself! Rwy'n mynd i gwely.

REJ:- Duw, duw! - are you alright love? - you look like you've sat on a thistle. Would you eisiau a cwpaned o te? -

SIONED:- There's no milk. Nos da!

*slam*

REJ:- Wel, wel, boys bach - that wasn't a proper SLAM at all! - and she's gone to bed at chwech o'r gloch! Mysterious girl indeed - Peter Andre is a prophet no less. I'd best fetch my portable digital radio to drown out the sobbing...*click*...*click*....*click*....Iesu mawr! someone's nicked the batteries eto!- SIONED! - have you been pinching my batteries again? -

SIONED:- DON'T COME IN!!! -

REJ:- Hmmmm...Never mind. Now today's excitement - and you can almost hear the buzz - is wholly if not all down to our very special guest Charlton Heston RIP. Born Ben Cid Moses, Charlton Heston RIP is perhaps best known for his role alongside Martin Lutherking in America's civil rights movement, his support for President Johnson's Gun Control Act of 1968, his opposition to the Vietnam war, being a staunch supporter of the Democrat party and getting Alzheimer's and fucking it all up. - Charlton Heston RIP! - Croeso!, and diolch for making such a difficult journey. It must have been exhuming. Now - first I would like to ask you just exactly why you changed your name -

CH:- Well I died Richard - it was out of my hands really. I rather like the RIP anyway, it adds gravitas I think -

REJ:- It does! - let me just put this bucket by you...there! - *plop* - Oooh! gwych! I'd like to see the pysgodyn that could resist that one! - nawrte...when you went insane in 1998 and became president of the NRA did you have any idea just how successful your tendancy would be? -

CH:- No Richard, in all honesty I didn't. I thought it would just be a bit of a laugh really to begin with - the films had dried up - God hadn't written any new commandments, monkeys looked unlikely to take over planets, chariots went out of fashion - there just weren't the roles for me anymore.

REJ:- And yet people took you seriously! -

*plop*

CH:- They did! - and no-one was more surprised than me, I can tell you. It was a great gig - very few lines to learn - in fact I only needed to say 'constitution' and people did what I said! - it's just a piece of paper Richard! -

REJ:- hahaha! -

CH:- hahaha! - sometimes I think we should have had a more sensible system - you know - a monarch appointed by God or something -

REJ:- er...perhaps think again Charlton, that could be the rot talking -

*plop*...*plop*

CH:- It's cold, Richard....so cold....and dark!....dark and wet....the earth...

REJ:- Are you alright? - you don't look well...

CH:- Fine! perfectly fine, Richard. It's just I haven't been feeling myself lately -

REJ:- Well you've got to keep the pipes clean! - now Sioned was very excited to hear you'd be coming - that is until she went to bed - and she looked up the US justice dept official figures and found that last year Americans killed four of their own children per day. 'Show him that!' she said, doing that thing she does with her eyes -

CH:- What thing? -

REJ:- Sort of like this...*twitch* -

CH:- You mean this?...*twii - plop!* -

REJ:- Don't worry - you've still got the other one! -

CH:- I hope I don't sneeze...Yes! I think it's three or four 9-11s worth since...what was that date? -

REJ:- 9-11!

CH:- That's the one! - it's the Alzheimer's you see...that and the maggots -

*plop*

REJ:- bless you! -

CH:- Thanks! Yes, Sioned's right. But I can't take all the credit for that - it looks impressive on paper, but it's only twice the British rate pro rata. -

REJ:- You don't see that on the newyddion! - Latin -

CH:- No, you don't, Richard. Luckily the news is edited for us. I don't have the internet at my current address, but I did hear down the ether that you limeys pop off 80 kids a year. You must be fit that's all I can say - guns much easier -

REJ:- Guns don't kill people - bullets do! hahaha! -

CH:- hahaha! - but seriously, the main advantage with guns is you can do it quickly - before you change your mind. Sort of like texting - there's many texts people wouldn't send if they thought about it a bit longer...just a few seconds! -

REJ:- Got to strike while the iron's hot as it were! -

CH:- Yes...actually Richard, now I really don't feel well...not well at all....something's not right...

*plop...plop*

REJ:- What is it? - you're very pale...and fluid -

CH:- It was when we were laughing just then...something....it didn't seem funny anymore...I feel....restless....I....don't want to go...want to come back....do things differently....I....help me Richard!....help me!....please you've got to...hel...

*plopopopopopopopooooooopppppooooopppoooppppp!*

REJ:- SIONED! I'm going fishing!

Poem for the day

Champagne at Pontarfynach - (a request and to thank 'ee for cummings)

Allan and Phil and Hazel and me
Went down Pontarfynach (to picnic you see)

And Allan discovered a business plan
That freed and enlightened the common man

Phil invented a genius scheme
That gave the world the chance to dream

And Hazel shone brightly as one who knows
And panned for the gold in the mental flows

I drank champagne and sat on my arse
And came up with nothing but trivial farce

But whatever life brings (from a you or a me)
On that day we were kings crowned by 'Yr Hen allt' tree

'Question Time' in Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun

Good evensong dear perceptors! Or, as they say in LL-y-C, Good evening. The Sun is over the yard-arm, and the shadow of the dome of insects floats midway on the waves. Break out the Pinkers is the cry! The cock has crowed, the sheep are stowed, and yonder - hark! the natter-toad, croaks 'hither' to the night. The climbing moon -

SIONED:- Right! that's it! Cosy night in and a Cwtch you said! - I'm off down the legion...don't wait up!

*SLAM!*

REJ:- O Duw, duw! She's off again! - a touch of the old 'womb-hysteria' you might say -

SIONED:- I HEARD THAT! -

REJ:- Hssht now Emannuel bach...wait until you hear the stairs...

SIONED:- I'M NOT LUDWIG VAN BLOODY BEETHOVEN YOU -

REJ:- Dammo! - I haven't got a smaller font...and that one was in my head...never mind - WHAT'S THAT MY CARIAD? AREN'T YOU STAYING FOR THE FEMALE GENITAL MUTILATION DEBATE?

SIONED:- WELL YOU'D KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THAT 'COS YOU'RE A COMPLETE FFWRCH!

REJ:- SIONED! - Oh, you're here - Sioned! you can't use words like that! There might be a Welsh-speaker listening...in Patagonia, or Caerfyrddin, or the University of Llanbedr-pont-Steffan, or -

SIONED:- Yes I can because I've got one -

REJ:- Is that how it works? -

SIONED:- If you had any idea how it works we wouldn't have so much bloody milk in the fridge! NOS DA!

*SLAM!*

REJ:- wait for it...wait for the creak of y grysiau bach...

*creak!*...*SLAM!*

REJ:- Sioned has left the building! Mae'n ddrwg gen i about the naughty word - and the femilogic at the end...'If I knew...milk'...nope, dim doubt boys bach! - they are truly a mystery. Education is wasted on some genders as they say! Can't live with them...And now onto tonight's tete aux tetes. And what tetes! By the magic of lying, I have in my living stroke dining room Germaine Greer, Cat Stevens, Nick Griffin, PC PC 149 Dai Hughes, and SomeoneelseIhaventthoughtofyet. I shall be playing the role of chairpersman like that Jonathan Mumblebore off the telly. But with one difference! In order so as to and not make the amateur mistake of running out of time, we shall be starting with the ending first. And they might just talk one at a time and then disappear, so I don't get confused. We'll see how it goes. And so I shall then now ask each of my guests in turn, without hesitation, deviation, repetition, or masturbation, to begin with their closing statements.

REJ:- Germaine Greer! Duw! you scrub up tidy love, not the tusker at all. I don't know why I still listen to Glyn-the-fags-the-radiographer. £5.99 for Golden Virginia! Take a Pew, cariad! I don't think I'll be needing this after all! *zzziiiiiiip! - reveal!* The boys down the criced club lent it me. Hmmm...you'd best wash it before I return it. Cat! do us a favour and open the ffenestr! Nawrte boysss...ble was I? Ah yes...now in the 70s, when Elvis Preseli was still with us, you wrote that famous book, 'The Dickless Female'. You'll be pleased to hear I have read it cover to cover - you know - when it got you into the birds' dungarees - and I've always wondered what it said inside. So I'm very upcited to have the chance after 3 decades to finally get hold of you in person and find out just how good you are between the covers.

GG:- *?!!?!*

REJ:- Ooops Sorry! - er...- you may speak!

GG:- *...?!!?!!!...?!!?!*

REJ:- Well put the kettle on then, you've gone very coch! Is this one of those hot flushes like Sioned's mams been having? I thought you'd long 'gone to seed' as it were! She finds the thinking stressful too - eisteddwch lawr love, you'll saturate the Tena-ladypants. I remember when Dilys Pugh -

GG:- K-K-K-KETTLE!!! Kettle...fish...kettle of fish!...pregnant fish....twat!....you're attacking my genitalia!....cunt-hatred!....if you'd read my book! Cunt-hatred! -

REJ:- Germaine! You can't use words like that! There may be English speakers listening! -

GG:- Yes I can because I've written about them. And about tasting menstrual blood. Not me, someone else. It shocked me - although I am unshockable, and very open-minded - having shagged John Peel and raised chickens and written about 'fuck-me-shoes' and other clever things. I'm certainly not projecting self-loathing and shame about my body from when I was a girl and Uncle Skippy said -

REJ:- Oooh but I never -

GG:- I'm afraid you did Richard. When you said 'Kettle'. You are a cunt-hater -

REJ:- O Dammo am I? I thought I rather liked them, although I can't really remember that far back. Sioned has been somewhat remiss in her bedroom duties lately - yet I'm still giving her the house-keeping!

GG:- *-pop!-*

REJ:- Wha-?...Beth?...Ble?! - She's gone! wedi mynd! And she said nothing about the mutualations! How can this be? And where did you come from Noel Edmonds?! And why are you dressed as a pirate? O Diar! Sioned was right about the cheese -

NE:- Arrr me hearties. It's me Noel Edmonds in one of my amusing costumes that ensure the 'Deal or dim deal' format is never tired. And those coloured dots following me you may be able to see - although people pretend they can't - are my dead parents. Or spiritual guides. Whatever I said - I'm too boring to look up. Now, I can see you're nervous Richard! And so I'm going to put my arm around you and giggle -

REJ:- I'm not sure that will help -

NE:- Trust me, I'm wearing make-up. There! that's better - tee hee! - now you know the way the game is played as you haven't got a job. Have you got a system? -

REJ:- Diawl! If Sioned had let me buy Sky plus I could fast forward you! er...I'll have bocs rhif 12 - 'final answer!' - there - that's saved half an hour...

NE:- Number 12! - the age of consent in Vatican-land! And still they can't wait! -

REJ:- Rhowch my script back to me and do your own jokes. On second thoughts don't -

NE:- Number 12! box number 12! -

REJ:- That's it boyo! Just open it and piss off -

NE:- Box number 12! number 12! The number you've chosen is 12! Not 11 - you could have chosen 11, but you didn't. You chose number 12! box number 12! Will this be a life-changing amount? Will this be a banker-spanking? Number 12! box number 12! not number 13 -

REJ:- Ok I'll do it - *rrrippp!!*

REJ:- Good God M'n! Anne Robinson!

AR:- Well helloooah Richard! *wii...* *wii...* -

AR:- *wii...*

REJ:- Use your fingers -

AR:- *wiiiiiiink!*

REJ:- Well now please Mrs. Robinson, Mae'r Iesu yn caru tu more than you can know. A-wo-wo-wo. What is your opinion on war-protesters, and would you today refuse to be drafted? - Ooops! - that was for Mr.Preseli in 1972. What is your opinion of on the female genital mutilation?

AR:- Interesting! But first I shall have a go at Greer -

REJ:- But you're not a boy...you haven't got the -

AR:- I am a proper woman. Not like that shrivelled harridan -

REJ:- *gasp!* -

AR:- Yes Richard!, a proper woman, and you may well gasp at my beauty - It's ok, I'm not offended. I too haven't read that book of hers, but if I had I wouldn't like it. I've never burnt my bra, or needed one, or raised chickens. And I managed to combine a career and motherhood without buying into any of this faux-feminist claptrap - I'm a real feminist. Be more like a man then men! - that's what Maggie said -

REJ:- O Duw! Please don't you start with the swearing too! Y Parch will be round with his exorcisms...It's two bottles a demon and I can't afford it! Yes I remember your career, at a time when no woman had worked previously anywhere ever, you were a writer, I mean journalist - real work! - not skiving down the mines like Uncle Sienkin, and indeed you drank more then men! And a mother too - at a time when no woman had managed to have children previously anywhere ever, and you successfully combined the two! All without reading the book! Although your daughter got taken into care because you were always being found naked drunk in the gutter all over Llundain.

AR:- I am a role model to young women everywhere!

REJ:- Indeed you are! But about the female genital mutilations -

AR:- I think you know as well as I do Richard, that Cat Stevens and PC PC 149 are doing that later. I'd rather talk about myself for a bit longer. I might say something about it indirectly, but without noticing. -

REJ:- No, you've lost me. I'm having one of those days -

AR:- Well I'm going to talk about cosmetic surgery, and a woman's right to choose, and how this sets me free from oppression -

REJ:- Well can't you do it more subtly? there's no need to patronise the textership! Do you mean things like breast enhancements? I saw this programme once on S4C...Sioned was out and -

AR:- I can't believe you said that Richard! there's no comparison at all! You are comparing apples and oranges! -

REJ:- From what I remember it was more apples and Melons -

AR:- No comparison. It's all about choice. - this is my angry face by the way - how does it look? -

REJ:- I don't want to say!...I once asked Sioned why she pulled her eyebrows out and then drew them back on with a pencil that cost £5.99 and she said it was because I didn't understand. She was right - and I've still got the bruise...

AR:- Good for her! I would have hit you too if my skin wasn't so taut. Tell me Richard bach, have you travelled much? Have you ever been to America?

REJ:- Only in my dreams Anne, only in my dreams...

AR:- In America Richard, women are truly free. Free to be forever beautiful like me. Have you ever seen a designer vagina?

REJ:- I deleted my interweb history after Sioned -

AR:- Yes truly free Richard. And so many TV channels! - so many great shows like mine! Not so much Noel's -

REJ:- Sioned says anorexia followed the introduction of TV around the globe. She says we should set up a charity to - what was it? I wasn't really listening. Cardiff were playing Neath and I just said 'Yes love' one time too many - must have slipped out of synch! I did my eating dogs for the anorexic joke but even that didn't help. I've still got the bruise - anyway I thought they were all morbidly obese - Glyn the milk has been there and he said he's never seen such hungry heiffers - reckons he could get 60 litres a day from -

AR:- That's right! and that shows TV does not affect people in the silly way that Sioned describes. It's all about the freedom to express yourself as anorexic...or morbidly obese...with a designer vagina and Melon-boobs...free from the oppression of men!

REJ:- I knew it was men! I think I'm getting the hang of all this...wonder if this will get me back into Sioned's - Cat! you wish to interject! -

CS:- It's Yusuf Islam -

REJ:- Yes! Cat Stevens himself! Who can forget your hit records? I know we've all tried -

CS:- Yusuf Islam or I'm not playing -

REJ:- Is that a promise Cat? Only we've all tried to forget...why are you wearing that binbag over your head by the way? If you don't mind my asking that is wrth gwrs. I pride myself on my tact and diplomacy. Sioned says -

CS:- The binbag is a sacred symbol Richard, although heavier than other symbols...like pictures....unless they're framed...- and it must be worn by the muslims of the Islamic persuasion for a number of very good reasons. You won't find a flaw in my segment if that's what you were thinking -

REJ:- It has all been flawless so far - like the Star of India! -

CS:- A long time ago, Allah dictated (please don't do your books are hard to make with invisible fingers one) a very special message to Mohammed - Peace be upon him! - and not one word was plagiarised from the Bible. He's good at writing you see, although not quite as good as humans, but no-non-body's perfect -

REJ:- Done that one too - perhaps try and be original Cat -

CS:- If you read the book -

REJ:- I'm one step ahead of you my furry friend! - If I read the book it will say I have to wear the binbag! -

CS:- Well no, it doesn't actually, but don't worry about that you dhimmi! As I was wailing -

REJ:- Yes I see the attraction now -

CS:- the binbag must be worn to preserve modesty and prevent indecency! Lust! Sin! You know about lust Richard don't you? Look at them! Look at their eyes! You can tell they want it! Look at them in their binbags!....all hot and bothered...filled with musty pheromones...you know what they're wearing underneath don't you? You can tell! Look at those eyes!....filled with eastern promise!....wibble...gibber...the binbag prevents all this sort of thing -

REJ:- er...yes. er...but I thought it was just for the ladies -

CS:- I'm a convert Richard! a convert! You can't expect me to get everything right! Just the bits I like - I don't know everything just because I have an omniscient friend I can talk to! I do know genitalia must be mutilated though, I'm pretty sure on that one -

REJ:- er...yes....er...no...

CS:- By the way, what day is rubbish collection here? - only there have been some accidents...

REJ:- I'll put you out tuesday -

CS:- Thanks - I always forget. Yes! the binbag frees women from the oppression of men! You can see what happens when you run out of binbags - Anne Robinson! -

REJ:- Cat! You are comparing bananas and grapes!...or is it peaches? Dammo! - I thought I was getting it for a moment there - Oooh! just as an aside...what's that fuse-like fuse sticking out of your shoes?

CS:- That's the ending you could have done if you hadn't wasted it on Hawking. Good luck getting out of this one -

REJ:- Diolch! and good luck to you in spreading your message. I don't think it will catch on though to be honest, not in Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun anyway. Dwr Cymru have done a splendigedig job! You might have more luck in Aberwristwatch where the water from the lead-mines at nant-yr-arian....- Duw! now he's gone too! I must lay off the milk of paradise. Maybe cut down a bit at first....perhaps starting next blwyddyn. Anyway at least he didn't sing 'the first cut is the deepest'. There is a line to be drawn in the funny-sand...

NG:- Me! Me! talk to me! I'm very important and have a mandate from the finest minds of Great Britain and it's aisles! -

REJ:- Well, if you're quick...only there's a talk happening on the enriddance of ovine-sheep parasites at the Lamb & Flag later -

NG:- Me! Me! you are suppressing my right to free speech! I must be heard! You are not letting me talk! We used to make things, and kill Germans, and now I can't even talk in my own country! I can't believe I am in England -

REJ:- Too easy.

NG:- You're not letting me speak! *etc x infinity* Stop calling me racist! I'm not racist! The cheek of it! When your government is killing thousands of muslims a day in Iraq and Afghanistan -

REJ:- I've run out of fruit I'm afraid - have a biscuit.

NG:- No I will not be bought off with a biscuit!...Oooh! Custard Creams! Just like Nanny...No! you won't stop me talking with biscuits in my mouth. And before you say it I'm not comparing Bourbons and jaffa-cakes! I wouldn't eat the brown ones anyway - they have lower IQs -

REJ:- They do? -

NG:- They do! Although you are suppressing my right to say this fact! Here, in England! -

REJ:- carry on - you're doing a better job than I could -

NG:- Yes! lower IQs! - no, I wouldn't bother checking that Richard...just listen to me and it will become apparent! Before you say it - and I once more seem to know what you are going to say in advance for some reason - they only do better in exams because of hard work and studying. Just as they only do better in business because of hard work and whatever people in business are supposed to do. Long hours or something. Very few Richard! - and I refuse to let you shout me down! - here, in West-Greater-England of all places, because I'm really very brave you know, and don't transparently have an inferiority complex, very few, if any, sit at home all day in their pants watching Jeremy Kyle and drinking Special Brew on the sick. Very few. They just don't want to integrate.

REJ:- Yes I can see that is a problem...how to reach these isolated communities hidden away in public places -

NG:- Please don't interrupt me once I've started foaming, Richard, it means I have to wipe myself twice. On top of all this paying taxes and being born here they want to kill us! It is beyond belief! And yet I am a special person that can manage it -

REJ:- Good God Man! Is that true? even Abdul Parry-Jones y siop? Wants to kill us? -

NG:- Yes! I think I'm getting somewhere at last! I always do well amongst the brighter people I speak too -

REJ:- Iesu Mawr! - who would have thought it? Abdul Parry-Jones, a friend for thirty years and all the time he has been wanting to kill me. I almost feel betrayed! A ticking time-bomb...tick tick tick for thirty years and never once did he give even so much as a hint of being one of these terrortourists - the bastard! I think I shall be going to Llan'dod Tesco's from now on -

NG:- Perhaps a brick through the window too, Richard -

REJ:- Brick through the window....well if he's trying to kill - wait a minute! you're not manipulating me are you? -

NG:- No, Richard! - you're far too intelligent to be so crudely manipulated -

REJ:- You're right! although perhaps make it a bit more emotive...

NG:- Women and children Richard! Not just men, - it doesn't seem to matter so much if men are killed - women and children! See how I linked the two there? - Abdul Parry-Jones wants to kill Sioned and Ethan and Tasmin! Somethingmustbedone! - Women and children...and red buses! - the very heart of theme-park Britain! If one deconstructs the connotive and denotive semiotics of the symbolism of the red bus to - ooops! - that's someone else - sorry!- er...

REJ:- Ffwrch y Diawl! He's a monster! Yes, diolch! I'll have one of those white hoods too - Ta! - And does he cut the little girl's genitalia too? -

NG:- Look into my eyes Richard!....that's it!....what can you sssssssseeeee now?!....lissssssssssp!.....I'm talking with a lissssssssssssp! aren't I? and I'm doing my Shere Khan swirly eyes!....- *swirl!* - you like cartoons don't you Richard?....you remember now don't you?....it's young Richard I want to talk to now....lissssssten with your heart!.....you haven't done any solutions yet have you?.....the readers were hoping you might do some solutions by mistake!....money and 'advertising'...- education and economic freedom and real choice for the women....somewhere to go....somewhere safe....helplines and whatnot!....how touchingly naive!....forget all that nonsense and think with your heart!...you already know the real sssssssssolution!....the final ssssssssolution!...tee hee!.....where is little Tasmin today?....I mean Tassssssssmin?!....do you know where she is?....it's your ssssssoul! I want to talk to now!....can you see her?....she's lost and afraid....someone's holding her down!....someone with a beard.....he looks like Abdul!.....is it Abdul Richard?!.....he's got a knife.....her lip is trembling....you can feel the fear Richard can't you?!....you can feel it now!.....what are you going to do? nothing?....like a coward!...how about now?......SCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! -

REJ:- Let's get the fucker! and the paediatricians while we're at it! Let's -

NG:- I brought these torches just in case you were of suitable intelligence -

PC PC 149 Dai Hughes:- Nawrte boyss! Beth sy'n going on here then? Ah fuck it! I don't think I'll bother with my bit. That wanky snake's pissed me off now. You know what I was going to say anyway - multiculturalism...new silly pointless law....zero prosecutions...bla...bla...fucky bla....fuck the lot of you...sitting on your arses sneering at me - Anne - I don't mean you - a policeman's lot etc...you fill it in...I liked it when you did your silly poems instead. Fuck all this! Fuck you Richard with your infantile 'jokes' and cheap digs and fuck all answers to anything! Fuck you fuck your blog and fuck off! I'm closing it down here.

REJ:- Charming. And I was going to tie it up nicely with my 'we're all fruit' line. All eating from the same fruit-bowl. Or biscuit tin. The oneness of Homo Fructus as that gurning would-be-despot the Dalai Llama might inanely bleat. Can't believe I forgot that - that was the whole point of it. Not FGM at all - which merits no consideration. The enemy within. But how within! It's as if I got bored halfway through - thinking about Charlton Heston in the next one.