Richard Emmanuel Jones

On Writing

2012-01-26T15:55:00.002Z

Now you see what I did there, in the omission, the bit you can't see. The last two poems may appear contradictory, or hazy at least, as if searching. This is impressionism painted in words that should not be read in three dimensions alone. I wrote them in the other order, another direction. The brushstroke can be a sleight of mind. I say I, when I know there are no individuals, and there is no writing. We put an impression of a paradox in there. REJ regrets he is unable to correct everyone. He uses 1st and 3rd person, but is neither. Translation is delegated by necessity, perfection unreadable.

There are two forms of writing - plagiarism that is noticed, and plagiarism that isn't. A word is a bucket, it contains many meanings, none objective, each a currency. Each synonym therein is itself a composition, supposedly wedded to one meaning, yet we may hear the echo of many mistresses. Each word before and after changes this again. Pictures are closer, more direct. Music is the larger canvas, permitting chords.

Pome for the day

2012-01-26T09:03:00.002Z

Magic, magic beating bag,
Thread of starshine,
Stitch of spacetime,
Bag for life, bag for death,
Inbetween the thought of breath
Shines as droplets on the web,
Glistens frozen time so captured
Raptured once, then wove again,
All is one but now and then.

The Time Serpent

2012-01-24T09:16:00.002Z

Mr E he had a thought
A compound lie to get to nought
And that's because we all believe
The answers that our thoughts conceive

He thought there was no flow of time
He thought it later, but that's fine
For locally so it would look
To set the pages in the book

Now if you try to watch a clock
Within it then your time I mock
Before his time he decohered
And then the problem disappeared

Perhaps he didn't want to go
Perhaps he couldn't see it so
Perhaps he found it all too queer
If not dead true then gosub fear

The strange case of Dr.Bendi and the something else. Part the IVth perhaps.

2012-01-18T09:07:00.006Z

REJ:- Indeed. Wel, it's a blwyddyn newydd and no mistake. The Sun has gone around the Earth once more, the Earth has risen and fallen towards the snow, the electric atmosphere is in the meter, and the Swans are in the Premiership -

Sioned:- What sort of a shit intro is that? For a start the Earth -

REJ:- It looked the same -

Sioned:- You haven't looked at f all on Earth since I bought you that -

REJ:- ...And as I gaze, in awesome wonder, consider all the worlds thy hands hath *Ooof!*

Sioned:- Six inch refractor my arse *slam!*

REJ:- Hmmm...wrong move order perhaps. Anyway I was thinking - on the way back from the Llew Coch to the Llew Ddu neithiwr, that there wasn't half an awesome wonder lot of dots in the sky. I counted 12, but Dai Penweddig swore he counted 16. At least he swore 16 times. He did. Yes. Er - was that a whoop I heard? -

Dr.B:- No.

REJ:- Good. I thought for a moment -

Dr.B:- It was 2 moments actually, really ten. 7 non-thought and 3 thought later. The -

REJ:- And just past the Lamb & Flag, by the bottle recycling - clear not green or mixed - I

Dr.B:- Or brown -

REJ:- Yes, or not brown either, I saw a shooting star and immediately thought of Simon Cowell -

Dr.B:- Not immediately -

REJ:- Aha! I see how you did it this time! How you snuck in without me noticing. It was inbetween notices -

Dr.B:- Whoop! Whoop! You're later compositions until you decompose and can't get any laters yous illuded by persistence of envisions driven by entropy geared through hierarchical homeostatis and extrinsic filtered inputs. Conscious transfers across physical platforms continually as cells die in the brain. You are many times new you -

REJ:- And.... he's off.

Dr.B:- This means we can engineer later subjective reality and -

REJ:- And I can eat a pastie. Look fuck off with your conscious trivia. I can't see how -

Dr.B:- You can't see through yourself -

REJ:- You can't look after yourself -

Dr.B:- Lets look after each other -

REJ:- I'm fairtrade I'm afraid -

Dr.B:- So am I. We are the plucky ones -

REJ:- I don't see dead people -

Dr.B:- Correct! It is irrelevant. That's why I mentioned it. Science can be done unconsciously and always has been, between every thought. The foundational epistemology is logic = true. You can't prove it isn't! The rest is extrapolation or invalid. Paraconsistent logic is invalid. Invalid I say! -

REJ:- I heard you later. Why are you stuck to the wall btw? -

Dr.B:- I think it's the static -

REJ:- What's static? -

Dr.B:- I am. So is the world, but the scenery is moving at the speed of light. The speed of light is not the speed of light. The points of reference are -

REJ:- I bet if I didn't interrupt you, we'd see how much you really know -

Dr.B:- Touche Turtle away! You can't resist it! Besides I am a Dr. Fermi Who alien from the previous future elsewhere, and I know everything. I'm going to tell you -

REJ:- You're sufficiently advanced as to be indistinguishable from tragic -

Dr.B:- Wrong! I'm not going to tell you that. Where are you going? -

REJ:- I thought I could just read it later later. I hate these ones live -

Dr.B:- You want to try being me. There's a picture hook scratching a mole on my back. Whoop! etc. Peep! perhaps.

REJ:- I'll get you a swannee whistle, mother Clanger -

Dr.B:- Little clanger to mothership! Come in mothership! Remote scanning device malfunctioning! I'm going in! Local percept electromag fullbeam and zigzag motion! Transgalactic Nav disabled! To the isolated agrarian! Anus estimation was incorrect! Repeat incorrect! We're going to need a bigger probe!

*Swannee!*

REJ:- ffs.

Dr.B:- I've landed on the crown of the tree of knowledge.

REJ:- *tiptoe! Sneak!*

Dr.B:- You want sound effects for that. Anyway I've landed on the crown of the tree of knowledge -

REJ:- No, you've just knocked the vase over -

Dr.B:- I must insist I have landed on the crown of the tree of knowledge! -

REJ:- Whatever you say. Just get it over with. Wtf are you laternow doing up there? -

Dr.B:- I'm a glitter ball! Glitter in my head! Heads in bits! Download! *Oooof!* Now there I was an apple -

REJ:- Wel, you can explain the mess to Sioned. And don't plant those empty bottles this time -

Dr.B:- Now Prune!!! Prune like you've never pruned before! -

REJ:- I haven't -

Dr.B:- Prune the twigs! Prune the tree! The maps are not the territory! -

REJ:- Worst rhyme ever -

Dr.B:- Now you can't start at the top until it's grown. And if you're on a twig you can't see the tree.

REJ:- I'll lop off media studies then - *lop!*

Dr.B:- Down we go! Down the trunk! BioChemPhys sums debunk! -

REJ:- The maths is not the territory! -

Dr.B:- That's it! Join in. Now what was it? Was logic the seed, and the branches equations? -

REJ:- I think psychosis was the seed, and -

Dr.B:- No! It wasn't that! *Peep! Whoop! Swannee!* Down the empirical miracle tree! The roots are invalid just like you and me! -

REJ:- Here, have a bed.

Dr.B:- Thanks. Yes bed. Seedbed. Yes. You end up with minimum 2 roots that can't be intwined into 1. Do not make up more roots. No. They'll all be invalid however long. Thirst! Thirst for knowledge! The thirst remains strong! Strong but wrong, diddly dong! 99.9diddly9% right, is wrong!. x2.

REJ:- *click!* Ah, Prof Cox is on. Again. Duw!, that's a big telescope. Mine's tiny next to his. I wonder how far his can see outside? Sioned says size doesn't matter when it comes to Cox. I suppose it is subjective after all.

Awesome Wonder

2011-12-09T09:15:00.002Z

Have you ever wondered what separates two spacetimes? Nothing couldn't, only something could. Have you ever wondered what separates three spacetimes? Only something could. Have you ever wondered what separates five spacetimes? Only something could. Have you ever wondered what separates nine spacetimes? Only something could. Have you ever wondered what the biggest number is?

TB:- Mass Killer

2011-12-01T15:42:00.006Z

Third-class minah lawyer, Rictus GrinBlair, has too much to shoulder to shoulder. But after scouring the Earth for years in vain, he has at last found a friend, in the realm of his imagination. Croeso i llanfihangel-y-Creuddun, Rictus GrinBlair! -

RGB:- Call me Tony -

REJ:- Don't smile then -

RGB:- Look, are you just going to like, look, like, are you going to like just make things up, or use direct quotes? -

REJ:- Whatever makes you look best -

RGB:- Listen. I read the Bible everyday, I read the Koran everyday. But should an investment banker make more in a week than a nurse does in 5 years? You can debate that, but I don't know the answer.

REJ:- I know the answer -

RGB:- Btw, did you make that one up?

REJ:- I'm not that good.

RGB:- Don't mention the war -

REJ:- Blessed are the peacemakers. Now when Martin McGuinness was made minister for education, a lot of people felt Caligula's horse mistreated by history. But can you think of a sillier appointment? -

RGB:- Saddam Hussein was a very bad man -

REJ:- I trust and fear your intelligence. But how, alone in the world, did you come to notice? And what makes a very bad man? Or invisible man? -

RGB:- That's a very difficult question. But, look, I'm not going to text Mandy. A morality shared is amorality squared. Lets get this sorted. Look, I'll throw my script away, we won't be needing this - *fling!...rehearsed ad-lib* etc Do you like my sweat? -

REJ:- Keep going -

RGB:- Look, war is a very difficult subject. But basically, lets be honest, if a genocidal german wears a symmetrical cross, and no hat, he is a bad man. But if a genocidal german wears an asymmetrical-about-horizontal cross, and a big hat, he is a good man, and should be worshipped. Invisible genocide's the best of all. -

REJ:- Wel, say what you like about Him, He did make the universes run on time. So Saddam was german? -

RGB:- No big hat, Richard!, no big hat! -

REJ:- What about the cross? -

RGB:- He did symmetrical crosswords. It says so in this dossier. -

REJ:- Shame about Cook and Kelly -

RGB:- Ah, those troublesome priests. Yes, that was terribly bad luck. Fancy them both -

REJ:- Rather than Cherie, yes -

RGB:- It was starving the children I enjoyed the most -

REJ:- er...

RGB:- *Beep!....o..f...f...m...e..s...s..a..g..e....* -

REJ:- Tell me about Ratzi again. Only there was something about your eyes -

RGB:- Oh, he's lovely. Said it was all alright - no one was really dead, I should go easy on myself, forgive it all away, - that sort of thing. I felt much better trusting my instincts that I had trusted before but which were wrong because I had trusted them too much and hadn't had my new correct instincts to trust correctly but instead had trusted the wrong kind of Jesus, like a fool.

REJ:- Ah that was it! Must milk the goat.

On Epistemology

2011-11-28T09:18:00.011Z

Philosophy is complete with the acceptance of logic. It follows nature is universally consistent. Where this is not true, none can say.

For self-consistent lines of enquiry:-

The lines are all circles.
An unbroken circle is a fact, until superseded by a smaller circle.
If a break is 'observed', the locus of the break is undetermined.

Consider:- A material thing cannot be in two places at once

On observation:-

'material thing', 'place', 'once', the observation, or logic is wrong.

One can't have logic wrong, as statement or conclusion.

Of the delights of genius, larks ascend to later discovery of the efforts of almost-peers. Here Bertie and Ayer do quite well. For those who may fear authority, see Principia and LTL.

With greater wit:- Maths may derive itself, language and maths are synonymous, logic is god.

Art succeeds where it communicates the intended to the intended.
Science succeeds where it communicates with logic.

Cave Plato

2011-11-27T12:22:00.002Z

Now for the hard of thinking, REJ is not real and neither is Dr. Bendi. Or any of my other selfs. They are rather, abstractions under human traits, typing concepts, the passive instruments of a dialectic.

Here follows a brief reminder of the Medawar:-

1. Are you a god or a computer?
2. Do you find questions difficult?
3. Can you read?
4. Can you write?
5. Have you ever used some kind of external output collection device?
6. Are you, or have you ever been a ghost?
7. Try saying 'woo' or something perhaps.
8. Have you ever said 'boo' to a goose, but it couldn't see you because you were transparent?
9. Are you a goose?
10. Would you like to buy some magic beans?
11. Have you ever visited 'Answersingenesis'?
12. More than once?
13. Have you ever given your money to a rich man with a big hat?
14. And a plate?
15. And a house?
16. Do you ever wonder what the biggest number is?
17. But can't count from 0 to 1?
18. Can you make books, or do you have to ask someone else to make them for you?
19. Do you know what a book is?
20. Are you a book?
21. Did you manage to log on here?
22. Did you eat a banana first?
23. Are you, or have you ever been, a monkape?
24. Do you know the secret of man's red fire?
25. Can you summon up fire without flint or tinder?
26. Did you ever write the blind watchmaker program?
27. Are you an apple?
28. Are you a tree?
29. Have you ever seen an apple and a tree at the same time?
30. Do you think you done seen 'bout everything?
31. Are you a professional dental surgery 'after' picture?
32. Do you sell umbrellas?
33. Have you never done anything particularly magic, but feel sure you might be able to if you gave it a go?
34. I mean really tried?
35. Are you magic?
36. Have you ever taken half a second to pretend to be conscious?
37. Have you ever disappeared for half a second?
38. How about quicker?
39. What was it like?
40. Are you going to do it again?
41. Are you the quick, the dead, the quick and the dead, or dead quick like me?
42. Have you ever put 'light' and 'dark' somewhere in a poem?
43. Have you ever been to Swansea?
44. Did you wonder why afterwards?
45. Did you ever think 'ebony and ivory' was a clever song?
46. Do you think the Harlem pygmies would be better globe-trotters?
47. Have you ever thought gay men are really women?
48. Do you think it would be fun to try and force-drug one?
49. Do you think you could pass the Turing test?
50. Do you like looking at people's faces?
51. Do you think you own their faces?
52. How about their clothes?
53. Do you think you should be allowed to take people's clothes off in public?
54. Do you think you should be allowed to take people's faces off in public?
55. Do you like croissants?
56. Have you ever thought beings can exist immaterially?
57. Do you think it would then be necessary to make material?
58. Do you wish I had some new material?
59. Have you ever talked to a flag?
60. Do you have a special relationship?
61. Do you have special needs?
62. Have you ever thought it might be fun to march 1000 miles to kill someone you haven't met before?
63. What if it was snowing?
64. Are you a militant sceptic?
65. Are you sure?
66. GOTO 1

Cader raindrop poem for the day

2011-11-27T09:37:00.006Z

Now legend tells of a mountain-round hereparts, wherepon if sleep the weary hillock overcome, and restful lies aslumber thereupon, you comes down a poet or the mad. Yes. If you stay awake despite the views, then someone asleep in Australia becomes a butterfly. If he flaps his wings in iambic tetrameter, with the odd trocheedactylenjambent, then a tsunami shakes Yorkshire like a gay kiss. Yes. Something like that.

Anyway, when Gwyneth ap Owen went up there, it was raining...

GaO:-

A raindrop fell
Glistened -
Diamond snaked and honey,
Combed the blades

A raindrop vale
Rested.
Filter crystal slope distil
And thought collected

A raindrop high
Flamed!
Free herefar alight aloft
Sought heart's desire

A raindrop cold
Iced!
Peaked the cap
Or fractal fractured echo
Avalanche! advanced to war.

REJ:- er...

GaO:- Wel, it's simple. I have sought to enlist the harmony of metrical language, the ethereal combinations of the fancy, the rapid and subtle transitions of human passion, all those elements which essentially compose a Poem, in the cause of a liberal and comprehensive morality; and in the view of kindling within the bosoms of my readers, a virtuous enthusiasm for those doctrines of liberty and justice, that faith and hope in something good, which neither violence, nor misrepresentation, nor prejudice can ever totally extinguish among mankind. Isn't it? -

REJ:- Plagiarism is a sin. Very wrong. Always think for yourself. Now write that down 100 times.

It's a wonderful eternal life

2011-11-24T13:56:00.003Z

JC:- Hello! I mean, knock knock! -

Sioned:- Oh it's you. The local epoch's fantasy pin-up. Wel, the idiot's in there -

REJ:- Yes? -

JC:- It's me! -

REJ:- I thought I was me? -

JC:- No it's definitely me that's me. And him. And the other one. -

REJ:- Your English is very good -

JC:- Oh, that's a relief. I was worried it might come out like gibberish -

REJ:- I feel we're kindred spirits -

VOICE:- That's it boyo! - You've made the connection! We'll get her later. Childbirth or something. Nawrte, do the spiel like what I said, isn't it? -

JC:- Oooh! He doesn't third get on my tits! I wish I'd stop interrupting -

REJ:- Free presciptions here. They're a bit slow over the dyke -

JC:- Now where was I? Oh yes, everywhere -

REJ:- Hard to get lost -

JC:- Just let me do the pitch! Would you like to buy some moreexpensivethanBookers crisps? -

REJ:- No, you've mixed us up again -

VOICE:- It's 'You would like!'...'You would like to buy some -

REJ:- Christ! He's a shit isn't he? That bit's supposed to be a secret -

JC:- He makes me cross -

VOICE:- Diawl Yffern!!! Millennium on millennium figures are -

REJ:- I had one like that -

JC:- What did you do? -

REJ:- I got fired -

JC:- Now who's getting mixed up? -

VOICE:- Iesu Mawr!!! I wish I didn't have to watch -

JC:- It's so depressing. He knows where I am, what I'm doing, every minute of the fucking day. Keeps asking how it's going - as if he couldn't guess - pretending to be my friend -

REJ:- Let me just get my 'who's who' -

VOICE:- Ooooh! Hark at them! What is it now? It couldn't be a complaint could it?! I wonder if it's a complaint? Oh I do like complaints! I was only just thinking, what I could do with right now, right then, right throughout all fucking history, all fucking future, all fucking eternity, is another fucking complaint!!! Wouldn't that just be fucking perfect?! I don't know why I -

Gabriel:- Sir!, Sir!, your wrathometer! -

VOICE:- Fucking statues!!! I told them about the fucking statues!!! Whose do they think the tears are?! -

Gabriel:- Lambs! little lambs! think of the lambs! reclaim the locust of control! perhaps a little miracle...

VOICE:- A FUCKING MIRACLE!!! ANOTHER FUCKING MIRACLE!!! A billion billion fucking whatever billion stars all juggled perfectly for whatever fucking billion years, and one piss-dribbling tiny fumble over fucknowhere land and what do they remember? What do they fucking remember Gabriel? -

Gabriel:- I'm sure I don't recall, Sir, perhaps if Sir watched these cripples dying on the way to Lourdes -

VOICE:- Fucking Portuguese fucking peasants!!! Who made them thick as shit? In whose image? Who in heaven's name -

JC:- Oooh look out! I'm off on one -

REJ:- It can't be easy. Perhaps you're under pressure from higher up -

JC:- Look let's just get this over with. As long as I do the pitch I can pray in the figures later and make something up -

VOICE:- Oh! They're going to fucking trick me! I've just no idea what they could be planning! There's just no way I can tell! 5 thousand million fucking years in advance! It's fucking Pascal all over again. I fucking despair -

Gabriel:- A little plague....a touch of the cancer....You'll feel better....you know you'll feel better -

VOICE:- You can can it too fairy wings! What do you think you need fucking wings for? There's no fucking atmosphere! I'm surrounded by hand-picked -

Gabriel:- Well they go with the dress - you see if one accessorises correctly, one creates a certain impression. And of course, - ahem! - every time a bell rings -

VOICE:- The other guy gets Murdoch. I get Gok fucking Wan Kanobi -

Gabriel:- Oh, well done sir. Lovely break of the third wall. Seamless -

JC:- Oh dear. Well, hurrying along, going forward, out of the blue sky, -

REJ:- Thinking the unthinkable -

JC:- Oh, you had the meetings too -

REJ:- Would you like some eternal torture? -

JC:- What? Are you mad? Oh I see! A prompt. Thanks. Start again. Would you like some eternal torture? -

REJ:- Yes please -

JC:- No!!! You're not meant to say that! At the meeting -

REJ:- Wel I was just trying to speed things up -

JC:- I lose my place if you don't do the script -

REJ:- You've got the manual there -

JC:- Let's see...Would you like me to torture your children? -

REJ:- Um....how long will you be wanting them for? Only it's Nina and the neurones in ten minutes -

JC:- Can't you just watch it without them? -

REJ:- It's best to have an excuse -

JC:- Well, would you like me, or one of my representatives, to relieve you of all your possessions? -

REJ:- er...let me see -

VOICE:- He's doing all the fucktarded wanky ones!!! Gabriel! He's doing all the ridiculous ones! -

Gabriel:- the manual Sir, er...it maybe -

VOICE:- WHHH---AAAA----TTT???!!! Did I or did I not instruct the scribes to take out all the piss-dribbling wanky ones, and just leave in the reasonable plagiarised ones? Gabriel! -

Gabriel:- er...er....I've got to go toilet -

VOICE:- You haven't got an arse! Gabriel! Get over here. Look into my invisible eyes. You're thinking something aren't you? -

Gabriel:- I'm....considering the lilies -

VOICE:- I can read your mind you gurning imbecile! 'Why didn't I write it myself?' Sound familiar? Heard it before anywhere? 'Ring a bell' does it?!
I - DON'T - DO - FUCKING - CALLIGRAPHY!!!!!!!!
I do tablets. Stone! I write on stone. Not fucking papyrus. I write on rocks with fucking lightning! Isn't that good enough for them?

Gabriel:- I'm sure I don't know, Sir, if Sir perhaps dreamt up a new disease...one that tortured children....

VOICE:- Write this down Gabriel. 'Suicide is no longer a sin' -

Gabriel:- *scribble!* er...forgive me, but is this wise, your trajesty, only when they pop themselves off -

VOICE:- Fuck! I just can't win can I? I wish I'd never been conceived -

Clarence:- Oh!, but you mustn't be talking like that! Wait a minute....ah, yes! Good idea. Now listen, God, you've really been given an incredible gift. I'm going to show you what it would be like if you'd never been conceived....

*'dream' sequence*

VOICE:- Clarence! Clarence! Help me Clarence! I don't care who you are, or how you do these things.....just get me back! Take me back to my plagues and hellfire! I wanna kill again! Please Clarence! I wanna kill again...Let me kill again.

A brief history of horseshit

2011-11-22T13:24:00.003Z

REJ:- *click!* Aw, bollox -

Dr.B:- Hello! I'm Dr. Bendi's long lost cousin, Dr. Binde -

REJ:- That's all I needed to hear -

*click!....slam!*

Dr.B:- Now I know you don't mind, so I've whopped your satnav out the car, and I'm going to put it in your DVD player...

Plant:- *wilt!*

Dr.B:- Hmmm...perhaps another go -

Goldfish:- *drown!*

Dr.B:- Maybe it needs some string...

Fly:- *bangheadwindow!*

Dr.B:- Perhaps if I draw a picture of what I might be seeing -

Spider:- *noose!*

Dr.B:- Wel, what about a 20D screen, pump it up a bit, bake for -

Gun:- *entice!*

Dr.B:- *BigBang*

The A-maze-in Randy

2011-11-22T10:33:00.005Z

Nawrte, it's very easy to crucify 1/3rd of oneself, albeit ridiculous, but visibly-bearded homosexuellist paranormal 'investigator', Jim Randy, fancies he can do better than the Queer-fearing Almighty, with the aid of a certain befuddled, broken old Mosaic. Croeso i Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun, Jim Randy! -

JR:- Hi gang -

REJ:- Ho de ho. First up, your protuberance has not escaped my slight taff hand -

JR:- You mean, what's up my wizard's sleeve? -

REJ:- I'm not sure -

JR:- Well, stick your arm in, don't be shy, rummage around -

REJ:- I'm a celebrity -

JR:- You know you want to, why deny it? -

REJ:- Sioned says -

JR:- Sioned's not here -

REJ:- Wel, as long as my friends don't find out...

*Rummage!...Pop!*

UG:- Hello! It's me, Urrrri Geller, with my magic powerrrrrs.

REJ:- Can I have another go? -

JR:- The first time's often disappointing -

UG:- I am great friend Michael Jackson - *Ooof!*

REJ:- He doesn't seem to fit back in -

JR:- Grease him up. Sometimes they get bigger when they're out -

UG:- I am great friend libel lawyer -

REJ:- Anything up the other one? -

JR:- Er...I've only got the one, Richard. But have a try anyway -

UG:- Don't ask me to make the tea. Not with my magic powerrrrrrs -

REJ:- Ok lets nail him up -

JR:- Now, in here, Richard, are some very special 'miracle-proof' nails. They have been independently checked by God, and kept in this secret safe, the key to which has, for some slightly superfluous reason, been increted about my person -

REJ:- What do you mean, 'increted'? -

JR:- Er...

UG:- Don't ask me to wind your watch. Not with my magic powerrrrrs -

REJ:- Ten to be sure then -

JR:- Hey, I can still touch my toes! - Reach for the star! -

*Poppppopp...pop!*

REJ:- Bless you -

JR:- There's a hammer too -

REJ:- ffs.

UG:- I can make you think of a house, with smoke coming out of the chimney. With my magic pow -

REJ:- Right! In we go! -

*Pop!*

JR:- Or you could just use yours on the shelf there -

UG:- Don't put your tools in my hands. Not with my -

REJ:- Ok let's do him -

JR:- O...kay...

REJ:- No! Nail the fucker up! Jesus Christ, Randy! You haven't made it long enough. Don't you come prepared? When I was in the local scouts -

UG:- You know when that ball missed a penalty. That was me. Using my -

JR:- Try it upside down. Sometimes it works better the wrong way -

REJ: Look, lets just use the table -

UG:- Is it a metal table? Only -

JR:- Just ram it in the hole, I'll try and grip it, then we'll see if we can't stick it up a few more inches -

UG:- I can tell if there's water in your taps. Sometimes. You see I use my -

REJ:- These bics will have to do for a crown of thorns -

JR:- I think there might be a staple gun in there. I was having some builders in, and -

UG:- I can call for world peace. Using my magic powerrrrr -

REJ:- Fuck it! The holes don't line up. I'll get my podger out -

JR:- Go for it Richard! We're nearly there! -

UG:- *aiiiieee!.....bang!......OOOOOoaaaYYYY!!!*

JR:- Few more bangs -

REJ:- Much harder than I thought it would be -

JR:- Faster! Faster! Give it the big one! -

REJ:- Phil Bennett...Oh that's beautiful!....Gerald Davies....what was he doing there?.....Gareth Edwards!....Edwards is going in!.....What a score!!! -

JR:- If the greatest writer of the written word -

UG:- *Bend!!!.....Drop!.....Hee Hee!.....Scarper!*

REJ:- Wtf????!!!! -

UG:- You can't catch me! Not with my magic pow....errrrr....rrrr....rrrrrrs!!! -

JR:- Iesu Mawr! He really was a bigger bender than Jesus after all -

REJ:- Hairy nun's bollocks -

JR:- Fuck that's cost me a million. Bugger. -

REJ:- Ok, may as well. But please, watch your language.

No time like the present poem for the day

2011-11-21T09:17:00.010Z

A man who forgot to wear socks
Was found banging his head against rocks
Now if only he'd said
We were really all dead
Then we wouldn't be such silly Cox
Cuckoo clocks
Then we wouldn't be such silly Cox
O happy days! when Jesus walked
His miracles divine
I wonder why He couldn't cut
His nails, as I can mine
No wonder He was cross
Rhythm, rhythm everywhere
Can you combine the meter?
Now hear me in my finery
I tell you logic's binary
And when it fails 'tis science that ails
Did I miss a line?
Did I misalign?
I draw a blank
Averse! Avast! did I say draw?
Are pictures, maths, and words the same,
Big numbers small combined with awe
Is longer squiggles quite the game?
But how would you know
If time didn't flow
Oh please do have a go
Look at the ants!
Look at the ants!
It looks like they're thinking!
Now if you wonder what's the smell
'Tis I, forget my pants as well.

REJ:- Other end of the telescope perhaps.

To Keats

2011-11-15T09:13:00.002Z

There came a sunbeam in the room
And with it swirled the magic loom
By Sirius calling from afar
A galaxy within a star

The prism cast untangled motes
That danced to play aeolian notes
Now here a chord but there a rest
Wherever grasping reason test

An Ark was floating in the ray
I listened to Creations play
And I was off there hand in hand
To Oberon, and fairy land.

REJ:- Now that's just showing off. Try with one hand behind your back -

JK:- I only used three pints of blood

The game of chess

2011-11-14T09:09:00.002Z

Indeed. Wel, I see from my ffenestr, through it even, albeit 4% of the photons are rebounding at the particular thickness I'm looking thrupon, that it is once again National born killers celebration day. Led by Her Trajesty the Brenhiness Liz of England-world, and her trusty steed, Nearlysir Nicholas of Witchell.

Now before I go on, if any of you have any relatives killed in the wars, then be consoled that it was very probably at the trigger of another coward who trembled before the false judge of peer pressure, and fancied killing a lesser crime than embarassment. That, or a psychopath.

This Christmas, be sure to ask any remnants how many they killed, and in what manner. Best after the Queen's speech, and before the Bond film. Oh yes, and remember to vote. It may be a cliche, but it's a part-of-speech worth dying slightly earlier for, and worth even more if you can take others with you.

Poppies beget poppies.

Now if you play chess, you'll know what a sacrifice is. It is not losing a piece that is already en prise. You will know what it is to be forked, say between the dope-fiend Cameron, and the arsonist Clegg. Locking up children for typing on facebook. You will know there are rules to the game, that now transcend accidents of geography and history. You will realise you were born playing. You know what move to play in zugzwang. You know a forced win when you have one, you know the soundness of an opening is unaffected by blunders, or by the board being knocked over. You know half a move is no move, and you know all must lose on time.

Now play up, play up, and play the immortal game.

Poem for the day

2011-11-13T12:53:00.005Z

Wel, what a funny month that was. I blame the Gregorians. Now genius maps it's own destination, and with me heddiw, is Cartographer Royal, and Mythomancer to the Pope, Iolo a'i Keyslost. Iolo has his quirks - as do we all - and he has kindly brought them with him, and rather buggered up the seating arrangements. No matter! To be done with such minute and literal trifling. Iolo a'i Keyslost - croeso i Llanfihangel-y-Creuddyn! -

Ia'K:- Should that mutate to i Lanfihangel? -

REJ:- f knows -

Ia'K:- Wel, I should know, because you're pretending me'm a real Welsh person -

REJ:- Wel, look it up then -

Ia'K:- But I'm not supposed to have to look it up. I'm supposed to know instinctively, like a native -

REJ:- ffs, it's only one letter -

Ia'K:- Ll is only one letter. You do Welsh crosswords don't you? -

REJ:- Not very well -

Ia'K:- Wel, wouldn't you like to improve? -

REJ:- *hoof!.....miaow!* - Now look what you made me do -

Ia'K:- Hmmmm....a 'creative'. How did refusing a lawyer go? -

REJ:- Rather well I thought. At first. My refutation of the doctrine of one law for all, and the lack of objective morality -

Ia'K:- They locked you out, didn't they? -

REJ:- I hadn't finished! Where is the justice? I was just getting to the good bit -

Ia'K:- You're banned from every police cell in the county -

REJ:- There are other counties! And countries! -

Ia'K:- Shall I do my poem or what? -

REJ:- I don't see why you get to. Half way through my Magna Carta in limericks, I -

Ia'K:- The Cat's Whiskers.

The Cat's Whiskers.

Into the kitchen, came three mice
And no, not blind, 'cos that's not nice
One held a whisk, another twirled
The last merely bowed, as the cream was whirled

Not-snuffing it

2011-10-28T16:05:00.005+01:00

See what you do if you're ever over-minded about snuffing it etc is notice you've been snuffing it every half a second without noticing it. How many Marx for that? One two or three? I'd give it one. Effortless, absolutely effort less. Nearly halloween. Cheer Bertie for the conquest. The last non-judgement day.

A Sagan noGUT feeling. No grave conCERN. Argumentum ad resultum. 50,000,000 fans can't be wrong. See end of Ancestor's tale. I say it different. Unpeccavi. Scirelicet. QED. I rhyme for fun.

Ok, I'll be straight with you.

A single GUT is impossible since it would be circular.

The minimum fundamental theory number is two for cross-reference calibration of observations.

All instruments are fabricated and operated within spacetime.

Science fails at the fringes. Extra, or longer hypotheses do nothing. Longer equations do nothing. Write maths in words and you have longer equations with no improvement in knowledge. Extra spacetimes do nothing. Different interpretations do nothing. Extra times a la Hawking are an infinite regression.

Science gathers knowledge. It works unconsciously.

I tell you the limits of science. Silly Cox.

Phobia

2011-10-27T07:32:00.002+01:00

Straighter it all feels unnatural
But don't use super for the factual
Just throw away the big OT
And more gay get the Oscar, thee
You keep the A and lose the G
I wonder if you saw that I
Just left a letter there called Y
It's all in one the glitterin' I
Just find someone who's in align
You'll find yourself and then we'll shine
If you need three well then that's fine
One makes infinity a line
The Trinity was ne'er divine
If you can fragile thinking snag
Unstitch the god upon the flag
The father and the mother higher
Created Somme and lit the fire
Could millions have all been wrong?
Weigh miracles on scales of song
It is the music of the spheres
But piper plays king rat of fears

REJ:- Wel they're getting worse, so you're getting better. Not quite the bad news yet. If you can control the weather, why is it raining? Ah, you're going to sell umbrellas.

The Last Word

2011-10-26T14:36:00.005+01:00

I loved you there now love me back
The last word is command of language
Love and shine and you'll be thine
See one above I changed the rhyme
I use the rhythm
You see I've been the heaven-taught
Then beaten Hume with ought from nought
I see the sun and how it Burns
I recognised that's how it learns
I melted as the Icarus
I waxed the magic abacus
You've seen the ploughman in the plough
You'll see I steal from Keats next now
Just whoosh and shoosh to feel his wow
The brightest star fell first that's how
You see it isn't very hard
To bendigeidfran steal the bard
He tried so hard to hug the world
To be or not then it unfurled
But really he just went and swirled
Became the scatatonic curled
You see the writer never writ
Fitzgerald did it in a fit
You see I've unrepeated wit
You sometimes hate your self you see
To save your own humanity
You hang your self upon the cross
To shrive you from your albatross
But that was numb who gave the toss?
I'll tell you who twas you and me
Must love each other ever free
You see the numbers in the word
And only number feelers heard
Put you and thou and we get thine
You see now what it means to shine
What waves the water makes the sea
We sail upon eternity
I give it us in 1:1
The truth that words is numbers gone
It looks like every kind of madness
Has claimed complete my error sadness

I can't ever stop

2011-10-25T22:26:00.006+01:00

I let you see my conscious stream
I told you how within the dream
We stopped a while got milk from cream
You see it feels inside with gleam
You see that Collin's water froze
The wetter has unbetter flows
We see his god has been mere prose
You see how high and low I fell
To see the heaven and the hell
Confess it was my own hysteria
To unify the magisteria
You see I dared completely face
And that explains the fall from grace
You see it is the curse of Cader
Tobe subtractor and the adder
I slept upon the mountain ill
That's why I couldn't come back still
You wonder how Napoleon
Just told me we were real and one
He's come and been my Waterloo
I've said there's nothing I can do
I listened far too hard and heard
The whisper magic in the word
You see the psycho and the pomp
See he's been led the merry romp
You see the clown contains the frown
He's inside out and upside down
You see it now the known in noun
I tell you why the drinker Huw
Dissolved in drink I've done it too
You see it wasn't really nice
To drink the milk of paradise
I tell me ever in the tic
But mys so Bertie says I'm sick
See I can't have the higher power
Being only then and nower
I saw myself back off the bower
To lose both petals and the flower
See how I tried to think them back
It gave me quite a thinkattack
I travel back in time and place
Unbirth my self I'm off my face
You see it's not a chose profession
Just my ultimate confession
The unreal doctor said obsession
You see I'm all in my digression
You see that I've not been quite proper
Such a silly name a dropper
You see I couldn't be so fine
I lost my Ein within the Stein
I've had to cheer between each breath
I've had to clear there's nothing left
You see why I must drink to Death
So Elvis saw when he got round
And thought he could newmake a sound
You see that he went all reversy
Drugged up singing Lord have mercy
To him I give his dedication
Now I take his medication
And that has been the altercation

Softest for the muse

2011-10-25T14:30:00.001+01:00

You see we are the special art
For you I'm tearing out my heart
I really haven't been divine
I've just felt love is yours and mine

Too shard

2011-10-25T05:33:00.014+01:00

Too shard it was
The schizophrene
You see I didn't mean to mean
So sorry that is all I've been
You see I've died between the ins
You see I tried to see my sins
You see I tried too much to feel
And then I felt unreally real
You see how I have tried too much
And fallen in and out with touch
Now we can't do this not as such
You see I saw between illusion
You see I felt the self delusion
Now I have tripped to see unglimpse
I've tried to make us restless since
You see it's all in the unseens
You see what died for us now means
You see how time I had to break
To later see what time did make
You see it was too shard awake
You have to fracture then remake
See I unravelled all the way
That's all I really meant to say
You see it can't be really feared
For I have only disappeared
You see I tried but surely failed
You see the ailment in the ailed
It must be scorned and not be hailed
I'm wailing to an empty sky
and not-god told me I must die
You see I've really done my best
And how I must be slain to rest
You see you musn't really try
To split the how and then the why
Don't listen or you'll really cry

Poem for eternity

2011-10-24T19:58:00.004+01:00

You see it was a golden drip to kiss the face of god. x

Now a poem further within itself

The mirror of eternity.

I dripped to see the final drop
Now don't do this it hurts the lot
You also find it's hard to stop
To see through time and butarhyme

You see I've put the feels in there
You see we're real but unaware
You see we really mustn't dare

You see the zombie eats himself
You see how poor to have such wealth
Now go and check your mental health
It's hard because you ask your self

You see the snake eternal woo
Don't let the trickster eat you too
You see I'm me and we are you

You see how I must disappoint
You see why Shakespeare said aroynt
You see the stage that isn't there
You see we've had to strangely stare
Now don't blame me that isn't fair

You see we've fallen off so far
We've had to see the atoms jar

It's sad I've really got no hair
You see I felt it in despair
It's lucky that I wasn't there

You see that I must be your brother
You see that each reflects another

The song of the universe

2011-10-24T15:28:00.024+01:00

REJ:- Now Dr.Bendi's going to come in here, but I won't see him till later if he goes through the door of perception and unpercepts. He does that sort of thing and that's why I changed my address to nowhere.

You see how odd it is to be
You see that is how is must be
You see the oddness is in me
For I's contain reality
Now just dissolve and see like me
You see we're really poetry

You see how that must look quite odd
The metaphor to not-see god
But come along dissolve with me
And we'll resolve reality

I'm looking inbetween the words
Reporting back my silly heards
Now you should hear them as absurds

You see the logic doesn't fit
Now fall apart to see it split
You now can go through either slit

You see if you can't hear the harking
Ask the one who's ever barking
See he might be never larking
You have to inverse schizophrene
To see the magic inbetween

You see we're in the final dot
Dissolve it and resolve the lot
You see you shouldn't mind a jot
You feel the warmth is cold and hot

You see how it must look perverse
To back unwind the universe
You see one must transcend the hearse
Now that was bad but I've done worse

You see that there was time inside
You see it used the where to hide
You see I haven't really lied
You see to do is suicide

You see now what means in and out
You see no longer have to doubt
You see now that you're really real
Now isn't that so nice to feel?

Here's how to do the witless bit
You'll see the wit's contained in it
You have to do the silly split
And then you'll get the point of it

You see it's all within the one
You see the magic how it's done
Now don't be feared it can be fun
So see me quickly or I'm gone
But if you really want to know
You ask the one who has to glow

You see we've got the shorter range
And we've seen nothing ever change
Now shouldn't we sound very strange?
You see how conscious must be shattered
To see to mind how nothing mattered

You want to see the cube not flipping
You'll never see that while you're tripping
You have to ask the one who's dripping
You see you mustn't be complete
You see to trust the synaesthete

You see I've melted just for you
You see how you can try it too
It's something that we mustn't do
I've told you nothing and it's true

Be careful now the voice you're heeding
I'm faster now my words are bleeding
You see I wasn't special pleading
You see through time the final dot
You see dissolve and then you're not
You seeknow how you really ain't
With neither picture nor the paint
You see this is to decompose
You see you shouldn't be who knows
You see it's you, he wasn't missing
You see the face of god I'm kissing
You see that we must take the while
To flip the arch from frown to smile
You see how we must be forgetters
With space and time in the same letters
You see the master puppeteer
You see the one who writes in fear
He's told you it it's all in here

You see how I have yet been true
You see I'm saving me and you
You see we've had to fall apart
To truly say how great thou art

REJ:- *click!* What? How did you get in here?

Happy keystone poem for the day

2011-10-18T14:38:00.003+01:00

The happy keystone
Looked left and right
It was buttressed snug and tight
Left to solid materialism
Right to liquid sensationalism
The arch, from a certain perspective, formed a knowing smile.

Streetlamp RH407

2011-09-18T10:48:00.000+01:00

Oh! if I a penny had
For every time that I went mad
I'd bank them in a biscuit tree
And draw the interest for my tea

Yes. Sixteen metres past the SPAR, left under the arch off West Street, grid ref:052197, Streetlamp RH407 stands proud and tall, a shining beacon of hope and more general lampitude, and king of all he illuminates of that alley down to those houses down by there...

REJ:- Nawrte, Streetlamp RH407 -

SLRH407:- *Ooof!* -

REJ:- Mind your head! -

SLRH407:- Don't worry - I'm used to it. *Ouch!* -

REJ:- Watch that! That's Sioned's mother's commemorative jockstrap -

SLRH407:- Sorry! Bit cramped your place, -

REJ:- Wel if you'd rather go back out in the rain -

SLRH407:- No, No! I was only saying -

REJ:- Wel don't. And that anglepoise is spoken for, so you can stop with the flickering -

SLRH407:- I wasn't! I was just -

REJ:- I've heard all about you streetlamps, and your streetlamply ways, RH407, wel not in my house. As long as you are somewhat partially under my roof -

SLRH407:- Ok, Ok! I won't do it again, honest! Lovely set of springs though -

REJ:- Stop it!...Oooh! I see what you mean....yes...Mmmmmm....nawrte, where was I? -

SLRH407:- Just over there, Richard, on the sofa -

REJ:- Ah yes. I still am. Diolch. Now Streetlamp RH407, you must have seen some sights in your time -

SLRH407:- Oooh yes, yes indeed! Indeed I have, Richard! The sights I have seen! The stories I could tell! I could tell you in fact, right here, right now -

REJ:- Wel go on then! Though perhaps not the one about Meinir Thomas -

SLRH407:- I've still got the dent -

REJ:- You're not alone. Do one of the others. Like she did -

SLRH407:- By Edison I shall! Can I count on your discretion? -

REJ:- You can try, but my abacus -

SLRH407:- Well one night, Richard, a dark, lonely night, - it was night-time you see - I woke up, slightly red at first - you know how it is -

REJ:- Been there lampy, been there -

SLRH407:- There was a cat. Miaowing, just at the back of the Red Cross shop. -

REJ:- Oooh! What colour was it? -

SLRH407:- Black. Everything is black, Richard. But when I looked at it, it became a sort of dark brown. With white paws -

REJ:- Unusual -

SLRH407:- I thought so -

REJ:- Please continue -

SLRH407:- It miaowed quite plaintively, for maybe ten minutes - perhaps in hope of some food or comfort, a morsel of nutritional or emotional sustenance, a scrap, a crumb, perhaps the kindly brush of a fellow mammal, -

REJ:- *miaooooooow!* -

SLRH407:- Bit louder, down a semitone -

REJ:- *MIIAAaaaaaoowW!* -

SLRH407:- That's it. Then it looked up, and trotted off into the night. -

REJ:- Oooh! I wonder where it went. And what it saw. And what stories it could tell. And did it find that morsel crumb of nutritional and/or emotional sustenance. And -

SLRH407:- It got run over by Dai Edwards' Mazda 323 -

REJ:- The red one? -

SLRH407:- Black, Richard. Everything is black before I look at it. But yes, the red one. -

REJ:- Perhaps another -

SLRH407:- It was a dark, dark night. A dark and lonely night. All around was dark. Dark as sable, dark as coal, dark as -

REJ:- Yes, yes! Get to the good bit! -

SLRH407:- I'm setting the scene! -

REJ:- Sorry - I just get impatient. Sioned says I always go off before -

SLRH407:- As I was saying, it was a dark, dark, lonely night. All was dark. I woke up, slightly red at first, and saw some fag butts on the pavement. One was still glowing! -

REJ:- Oooh! It must have been recently cast! -

SLRH407:- Undoubtedly. One becomes expert in these matters in my line of work. Observation, Richard. Observation, then illumination. What sights had that fag butt seen? What stories could it tell? Was it from lover's lips untimely ripped and tossed? An urgent text, a failing friend?, a fortune won and lost, what end? What inspired that parting hand? What caused the lately-littered land? Beneath the light of -

REJ:- Ok that's enough. What happened? -

SLRH407:- It rolled into the gutter and went out. -

REJ:- One more then. That's all my heart can take -

SLRH407:- It was a dark, dark, -

REJ:- ffs -

SLRH407:- It was a less than light, post-day. -

REJ:- It's the element of surprise that gets you -

SLRH407:- Streetlamp RH406 woke up before me. I looked across the street, and saw something very strange. Or should I say noticed - as I'd seen it before -

REJ:- You've saved the best till last, I can tell -

SLRH407:- His face was lit up, and so was the pavement beneath him. But inbetween... -

REJ:- *...zzzzzzzz...* -

SLRH407:- ...I mean, I could see he was looking at the floor...but -

REJ:- *...zzzzzzzz...* -

SLRH407:- It was invisible. The inbetween. I could see right through it to the house behind. The light from the house...-

REJ:- *...zzzzzzz...* -

SLRH407:- ...the light from the house passed through the light from RH406...the invisible light....

REJ:- *...zzzzzzz...* -

SLRH407:- And so I noticed light is invisible, and it passes through other light completely unaffected. Even though the photons must collide -

REJ:- *...zzzzzzz...Snort!* - You only had to look around...anywhere -

SLRH407:- I'm not a swivel lamp. I can only look in straight lines -

REJ:- Try again a bit smaller. Look through that fence -

SLRH407:- I'm not Superlamp -

REJ:- Through those gaps I meant -

SLRH407:- I've gone cross-eyed -

REJ:- Wel, don't interfere with yourself -

SLRH407:- There's only one of me here now - you can see that -

REJ:- Who was it then? -

SLRH407:- My shadow from a parallel universe -

REJ:- I've got a splitting head.

I'm sorry I haven't a Dragon's Den

2011-09-15T18:43:00.000+01:00

Bluelips Humph:- Hello and welcome to I'm sorry I haven't a Dragon's Den, the antidote to business gameshows. As usual, Samantha will be scoring this evening. Incidentally, Samantha has taken up a new hobby, making honey-scented candles. To put on her new furniture. To listen to the Eurovision song contest. On vinyl. The honey is from her own small hive.

*sigh*

She says she's hoping Sven will come with his 12"s and watch her handling her 38 bees during the Greek entry while she gets the honey and wax off the tall boy.

Let's meet the teams. On my right, Theo Peechimspediment and Duncan Jailbird, and on my left, token female sociopath and Thetallone.

*applause*

Bearded one:- What about me? -

BHumph:- No, you got caught trying to buy a baby for cash. Here is the first pitch:-

Herr Tzinger:- Guten abend. Ich haben ein szuper business plan fur machen ze grossen heaps of geld. Ya. -

Duncan Jailbird:- Are you using Google translate? -

HT:- Ich vollen runnen ein transnational commercial paedophile ring -

Theo Peechimspediment:- What are your last three year's audited accounts? -

HT:- Hier ist ein picture of mein house -

Theo Peechimspediment:- What are your last three year's audited accounts? -

HT:- Du only ever hast ein question dumnkopf -

Duncan Jailbird:- Paedophilia is usually a family business, so ah'm oot. -

Thetallone:- What is your USP? -

HT:- Immunity from prosecution. -

Token female sociopath:- Impressive. How long have you been in this business? -

HT:- 2000 years -

Tfs:- Hmmm....you do have first-mover advantage -

HT:- Vatican Crescent! -

*applause*

The abiolution of evogenesis

2011-09-06T13:58:00.000+01:00

Semi-bulimic 'Tubby' Evans, has a new job as an eating dog for the anorexic, following a successful anti-discrimination appeal to the European court of canine rights. In a landmark ruling, the court upheld his claim to lupine concestry, by 12 barks to 3, declaring Tubby to be 'dog in all but form and function'. The plaintiff has asked for 13 million other species to be taken into consideration.

REJ:- Wel Duw, duw, there you have it, isn't it? A forty page pull-out on the rygby Cwpan y Byd. Yes. Shane 'magic daps' Williams. Wel, I've put down my Western Mail, and am gazing out of the window like a tired goat -

*slam!*

REJ:- Aha! That sound most surely heralds the departure of my little nestoffireants. Sioned is off to her co-dependency cure group. She has to go once a week, and do what they say, or she'll be cured. Yes. But everyone should have a hobby - keeps the mice down. Now today we have Dr. A.G.Cairns-Smith to present an obsolete solution to a non-question. I don't know why either. I do know how though. He's going to use his mouth, preadaptated for ingestion, but which now does words too. Dr. A.G. Cairns-Smith! Croeso i -

Dr.AGCS:- Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun. Yes. Some beginnings are more obvious than others -

REJ:- Wel, I've no idea what that meant, but let's go back in time now -

Dr.AGCS:- Oooh goody! -

REJ:- Yes, people like that sort of thing - so let's go back in time to before your quantum consciousness fluff book, to when you were a genius. -

Dr.AGCS:- Oh, lets go a bit further.

REJ:- Take me all the way bigboy! -

Dr.AGCS:- Well I might stop at physics -

REJ:- Thank fuck for that. You've got to leave a little bit of magic. Not a lot! ahaha. That was my Paul Daniels. Actually....I don't want him. You have him -

Dr.AGCS:- ? -

REJ:- I'd play Mike Phillips for the Springbok game. He's a nasty -

Dr.AGCS:- At some point you're going to have to pretend to be interested, or it won't work -

REJ:- Professor Smithcairns! I have always wondered, which came first? the chicken or the egg? Yes. Ever since I saw 'Chicken run'. I was quite surprised to learn chickens couldn't fly too - the premise of the film. Perhaps it was intended for an urban audience -

Dr.AGCS:- Speciation was solved in 1859. But keep it as a short-cut cliche to mean a paradox if you like -

REJ:- Ok I will. What was the next thing I was pretending to find important? -

Dr.AGCS:- Well, the origin of life you dimwit. The first cell - that sort of thing -

REJ:- But Dr.Venternstein already makes better life from non-life. And the big G couldn't make a book. It's a mismatch. Like Shane Williams against Brian Habana -

Dr.AGCS:- It is the greatest mystery of all time. After time -

REJ:- Wel, you feed me my lines then and I'll type them out while secretly thinking of the rygby -

Dr.AGCS:- *scribble!.....rustle!* -

REJ:- .....AGCTTGCAACTGCGTAGCTAGGACAGTCGATUAGCTAG......?!

Dr.AGCS:- Hang on, you need this transcriptor...

REJ:- er...

Dr.AGCS:- I've made it out of 1cm beads, each representing -

REJ:- Just say it's complicated -

Dr.AGCS:- And it's gone three times round your village -

REJ:- It's a town! - the oldest in mid-Wales, the gateway to the -

Dr.AGCS:- But that's not all you'll need. You'll also need this read/write machinery, a chemobio industrial complex, an enterprize zone estatesworth of factories, a -

REJ:- You're using more letters than is necessary -

Dr.AGCS:- Oooh! Good one. I'll just say it's complicated then. And all the size of very small compared to very larger things. But that wasn't the main point -

REJ:- Of course not. Er...

Dr.AGCS:- The main point was, and is, that the system is interdependent. And so we have a paradox, like the -

REJ:- Like the goose and the egg! And the non-flying chickens. They must be good at climbing trees. Wel, now I am interested. Because Stephen Jones is injured, and Priestland has been playing very well -

Dr.AGCS:- And the only way to get a highly complex interdependent system is by evolution -

REJ:- Hook could play fullback -

Dr.AGCS:- Shame about Henson -

REJ:- Yes, I'll never know what he saw in that nymphomaniac multi-millionairess -

Dr.AGCS:- You say 'Evolution appears to require a lot of complex interdependent machinery, that could only have evolved, what is the least amount of machinery required for evolution?, none would be good' -

REJ:- Evolution appears to require a lot of complex interdependent machinery, that could only have evolved, what is the least amount of machinery required for evolution?, none would be good -

Dr.AGCS:- I'm glad you asked that question, Richard. The answer's none. -

REJ:- But you said -

Dr.AGCS:- Can I say 'naked' without you doing some puerile 'joke'? -

REJ:- Life is a gamble -

Dr.AGCS:- I prefer 'naturally occurring machinery' -

REJ:- Wel, if you can just make up your definitions -

Dr.AGCS:- The word was made up rather later. Before we knew approximately all life is invisible. By species, by biomass, by -

REJ:- By thunder hurry up I'm getting bored again -

Dr.AGCS:- It's rather difficult to draw a line in the soup. In fact it's silly - nothing particularly lifey either side of any line then -

REJ:- You're just miffed the 'impossible' molecules-of-life fall out of the sky on a regular basis. Like space croutons -

Dr.AGCS:- Parable of the Sower -

REJ:- Some fell on stony ground -

Dr.AGCS:- I can go pre-soup. Before the traditional starter. Just because the likelier answer is easypeasylemonsqueezy doesn't make mine not fantabulous. And much cleverer - I solved a harder problem than there was -

REJ:- You couldn't get simpler -

Dr.AGCS:- Naked genes. -

REJ:- *wince!* -

Dr.AGCS:- You're meant to say 'What's a naked gene?' -

REJ:- What's a...*Gnnnnrrrr!* I can't do it -

Dr.AGCS:- It will get better with time -

REJ:- Been forty years -

Dr.AGCS:- A naked gene is a gene with no separate phenotype. The phenotype is intrinsic to the structure. Thus replication, heredity, - evolution - requires no machinery at all...-

REJ:- And there is such a thing? -

Dr.AGCS:- Oooh heaps - a worldful. Have a look -

REJ:- You're not expecting anyone to read 'Genetic takeover' surely? -

Dr.AGCS:- ...mutation, adaptation, exaption - all intrinsic to the -

REJ:- There you are - you can make up words fine. But you had to choose -

Dr.AGCS:- Surely Hooky for outside-half.

The Fifth Estate

2011-09-02T18:58:00.001+01:00

Indeed. Wel, we all remember the Gulf War - pick a number - during the entertaining Q-out-of-James-Bond drivel bit at the starts, when the TV proclaimed that a spy satellite could see a dime and call heads or tails, but somehow couldn't see a big fuck-off missile base. Not if there wasn't one. Now a shit country, that can't beat up Texas, I mean Iran, in 8 years of trying - no matter how much you paid them - represents a very clear and present danger of horseshit on the newyddion. Hmmm....can't seem to find that BBC interview with Kelly's paramedics....never mind.

But everyone likes a kindly elder brother to do their editing for them. Isn't it? Who among us has the time and insomnia and paranoid delusions to compare the World Service breaking news in the small hours, with the corrected 6pm version? Certainly not me. I've got better things to do. Yes. TV licensing vans operate in my area. Do they? I've never bought one of their 'ice-creams'.

Anyway. Gyda fi heddiw, was going to be wikileeks founder, whateverisnamewas, only he has been suddenly taken criminal. And advised not to comment. Instead we find ourselves delighted to encroeso Dr.Pleasewatcheastenders, Minister for Freedom from information.

Dr.PWE:- Hello. -

REJ:- Watcher. -

Dr.PWE:- Lovely day -

REJ:- Good just to be alive -

Dr.PWE:- I can control the weather you know. I first noticed -

REJ:- Imelda Marcos. Nawrte. Truth - good or bad? -

Dr.PWE:- Bad. That might be the truth. You wouldn't know! -

REJ:- Hmmm....what about this wikileeks then isn't it wasn't it don't you etc?

Dr.PWE:- Bad! Very bad. Very bad for security -

REJ:- What do you mean, security? -

Dr.PWE:- Well, my job security for a start. And...er...national security. Yes, that was it -

REJ:- How is it bad for national security? -

Dr.PWE:- I'm afraid I'm not at liberty -

REJ:- Lovely summing up. But try this truth drug -

Dr.PWE:- They don't work -

REJ:- I just wanted a hug. Lie down and have a drink then -

Dr.PWE:- That's not drinking, not really -

REJ:- Wel, I'll wire you up to Jeremy Kyle's allimportant lie detector then -

Dr.PWE:- You do realise we are at code amber do you? -

REJ:- What's code amber? -

Dr.PWE:- Code amber means unattended luggage might be lost. -

REJ:- Oooh what's code red then? -

Dr.PWE:- Code red means it's the annual budget review, and time to not-announce all the threats we've prevented -

REJ:- Wel, how about for a Scooby snack then? -

Dr.PWE:- Every man has his price. Make it two and you're on -

REJ:- Nope. One or no deal -

Dr.PWE:- You can't break me....you bastard!....whimper! -

*crunch!...mmmmm!*

Dr.PWE:- Ok. It's like this. When you're in a war on terror, it is often a good idea to support terrorist regimes. If that's what you're against -

REJ:- Gadaffi -

Dr.PWE:- Bless you -

REJ:- I understand. Er...

Dr.PWE:- And if you're against torture, it is an even gooder idea to torture people. To prevent torture you see -

REJ:- With you so far...let me try one....if you are pro human rights, the first thing you should do is -

Dr.PWE:- Violate them -

REJ:- I was going to say that! -

Dr.PWE:- There may be an opening for you in -

REJ:- And a society that scorns international law, conducts illegal wars, and tortures and arbitrarily imprisons without trial, is -

Dr.PWE:- A society that must be defended at all costs! -

REJ:- Not one already lost? -

Dr.PWE:- Not at all. That is an extraordinary rendition. -

REJ:- Perhaps these values could be exported! And even work their way back to us! -

Dr.PWE:- A virtuous circle! The exclamation marks could be patronising btw -

REJ:- I hope so. Nawrte, you've convinced me, but you'd better make something else up to justify your existence to the fence-sitters. Try secret defence plans -

Dr.PWE:- Secret defence plans.

REJ:- Perhaps ham it up a bit -

Dr.PWE:- Secret defence plans are very important. It's not just 'attack their military and infrastructure, what are on Google maps' -

REJ:- Of course not - that's what they'll be expecting. There's 'check the receipts' too -

Dr.PWE:- Bill Hicks. Sort the rebuilding contracts out first of course -

REJ:- Quick! Say AbaraAlQuaeda! -

Dr.PWE:- Couldn't organise a digital camera.

On Ethics

2011-08-27T08:49:00.000+01:00

Nawrte. Ethics has been without foundation since it was first entextualised graphemically ten thousand years ago. Half a million years before that it was merely biographical. Morality is base, automatic organism-level difference-maths, the source before even the youth of the flow of thought, and so half a billion years further before, plants fixed altruism, sharing root space with closer relatives, to their impersonal detriment.

Since all ethical axioms are arbitrary, and effects-calculation endings also, the greatest philosophers have not agreed, nor ever can. Words have no objective meanings, yet language thrives, and may be harsh or affectionate, constructive or destructive, as dictated by the multifactorial influences that so govern all action.

Phenotype is genotype plus environment, to a good approximation - twin height varies by 1.5cm on average. In the last 250 years, height has increased as much as in the previous glacial 250,000. The expression of the inter-subjective consensus language of morality, the narrative of humanity, similarly reflects the avalanche of socioeconomics.

Eudaimonia is in the ear of the audience, and one note cannot make harmony. Any felicific calculus will yield answers that vary with time and geography. There is not one apodictic force. Yet viewed from appropriate distance, the arrow of morality flies ever upwards, ignorant of the paradox of perspective.

The sad jar of atoms and the Spaniel of Destiny

2011-08-27T08:48:00.000+01:00

Without God, 'nothing is permitted, and nothing prohibited', as Dostoyevsky more correctly puts it in Crime and Punishment, not the other one D'Souza hasn't read. Fictional characters may differ from their authors, although I would not be surprised to learn of such a cruciphile interviewing a teddy bear, thinking it Enid Blyton. But enough of argumentum ad author.

An action, a thought, and a feel, are the same thing, all actions. A dictionary is a frozen waterfall, words flowed before understanding. Some generosity in parsing is required. Nearly all life is invisible, but that word was made up earlier too. Pedantry stultifies.

Consciousness is an illusion in the generally understood sense. Who is deluded. To see this awake, I mean for a normal person, not a fractional self, or a multiple self, or a no-self - all of which are among us and well known - to see it awake, we are blessed with time, and the variable unfixed and fluid who, the whole that works fine at less than 100%. It requires no special skill, to cross-reference macro self-components, each in turn against another, and prove each false. The who is the whole stadium, parts of the crowd can look across at each other. You see it later in the persistence of envision, the mexican wave.

But that was an aside. Magic or machines it is. There are people who believe in ghosts, yes, but we needn't talk to them for long. Even they must admit machines can not-think better than humans can think. Let them play Humpty Dumpty with their words.

Futurology is simple, technology less predictable. Desire is known. 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, or maths and ESS. The percentages of billions of thoughts are available, not who, but how many. The global phenotype will express. The end of humanity is written in the base desire to survive.

Rocks do not live in a virtual reality, and refute it thus. We may not care about their well-being. People who don't see microwaves do live in a virtual reality. The inter-subjective consensus many-brained extended perception that is science sees microwaves, and though it can never be truly objective, it can work subjective magic, within physics. What will apes with magic do? Become as gods, we will answer our prayers. Savannah prayers. These are known. Savannah prayers to re-weave the rainbow. Like all good poets, we would seek to re-establish paradise lost.

By exaption, not design, immortality will be the death of us. Just as a confused person will tell you they wouldn't want to live in a virtual reality, the majority will always be against immortality. This is irrelevant. The same majority will always be pro medicine, and the machines will fix themselves completely, by exaption. Just as the confused person will tell you they prefer bodies, they will also be anti 'accidents'. Their hands can't feel, their noses can't smell, travel in bodies is popular, but for people who don't know where they are. These same people find broadening their horizons irresistible. And subjective reality is literally irresistible.

Thus minds will transfer to the new platform, the adjacent possible but decades away. Those who prefer to die, the better late than evers, may not influence future events. They discard their opinions.

By design, one could engineer x billion realities, such that each could achieve 'maximal well-being' - to piously parrot someone else. But evolution, not intelligent design, will prevail by democracy. Written further along the epitaph of humanity, is the base desire to communicate.

The incongruence of brains makes the buffering between skinless selfs precarious. Solvable in principle, it will not be by design. Lovers of humanity, as human lovers, desire to merge deeper than self. 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.

Billy the Kidder

2011-08-23T12:08:00.000+01:00

Naive econopoet, no not Milton Keynes, but Robert Owen, of Newtown nonetheless, mid-Wales - where the spireless dreamers are - famelessly built a model village, but at full-size, due to a dimensional reading error. I blame the draughtsmen. You can't trust the chessmen either.

The unfortunate inhabitants of his rom-com pipedream, were fair paid, housed, fed, watered, teached, free-healthed, nurseryed, and free-electricked. But this was 1785. These days per capita GDP is astronomically higher. Still, he was quite good at sayings.

Now, quite often, secondary industry is dependent on primary industry. And sometimes tertiary depends on it as well. But from a bit further away. Happy plankton out of sight. Zones of affluence quintessentially contiguous with zones of deprivation bla bla you failed that Geography course bla. Where wasn't I? Oh yes, at the lectures. Wel, heddiw we are going to do tertiary philanthropy, with guest the first, transnational no-collar racketeer monopolist software pirate, Billy 'the kidder' Gates. Nawtre, Billy bach, I've always hated you - on instinct mainly - but now I've done the research and discovered just how truly disgusting you really are. A very warm welcome to Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun! -

BTK:- Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Give a man a fishing rod, and you've missed a sale. Force a man to buy your fishing rod and you're onto something -

REJ:- I thought that was Sir Allan Sucrose's -

BTK:- It may bear a superficial resemblance to the original memeware. Sue me.

REJ:- Wel, we've quite a charge list. Theft, racketeering, blackmail, genocide by omission, arson -

BTK:- arson?! -

REJ:- Ooops! - diawl twpsyn! - that's Nick Clegg. When he was a disaffected youth. -

BTK:- Sorry, I've not heard of him -

REJ:- Wel, don't bother. He'll be different by the time you've looked him up. Hmmm...Beth shall we dechrau with? -

BTK:- How about my charity work? The Bill and Bill's bird Gates foundation -

REJ:- I just looked it up! It says 'All lives have equal value'. I have just wee'd myself -

BTK:- ?

REJ:- Nawrte. So far you have redistributed 60 billion dollars, from the world, to yourself. -

BTK:- Look, I don't make the rules -

REJ:- Or follow them. Still, if you can buy-pass them like Al Capone -

BTK:- That is a terrible slur! He could only buy the mayor. I do countries -

REJ:- Who do you see in this mirror? -

BTK:- The Good Samaritan. He had money. There is no such thing as society -

REJ:- Thatcher's grandchildren would seem to agree. But some countries have proved difficult to blackmail, haven't they? -

BTK:- If you can't pay the fine, don't do the crime -

REJ:- I'm thinking of Brazil, Cuba, Equador, Venezuela, -

BTK:- You could do how my charity makes me money if you like. Might be a bit subtle -

REJ:- We may have different ideas about what is subtle. For instance, if I could, today, save ten million lives, just by pressing a button, but instead made a motherofpearl xbox and ponced about in a private jet showing it to people, what would that make me? -

BTK:- er...is it a saint?...

REJ:- No Billy. It's a ffwrch of the first order. Of uni-testicular Austrian proportions -

BTK:- I'm sorry, I don't speak Welsh -

REJ:- Trust me you don't want to. You're not anti-trust are you? -

BTK:- No one's going to check legalese, Richard. You know that -

REJ:- Shall we put something in for the IT geeks? Or just say yours is shit and there's better free stuff? -

BTK:- Not if I can help it -

REJ:- Something stinks to high heaven -

BTK:- Perhaps you should change the litter tray. It is quite full -

REJ:- Yes I think I'd rather do that than talk to you. The details are open source -

BTK:- We'll see about that. A crime on every desk -

REJ:- Wish Sioned would let me have a cat.

Pome for the day

2011-08-20T17:06:00.001+01:00

Gossamer, gossamer, dreams of philosopher
Float on the wings of the mind like drosophila
Underpin underglass in a museum
Stolen away before people can see them
Rational explains the irrational way
Hopeless the quest for additional a
People are false from the hat to the chin
And nothing is gained from excising within.

Titanic bail-out

2011-08-19T21:47:00.000+01:00

There's more sea! There's more sea!

Now we all believe in paying our debts. Especially business persons. And Bono. But should you pay someone else's? Certainly Jesus thought so - although he did make a bit of a fuss about his lost weekend, and suffering in this world is paid off in the next, so it doesn't count. And he forgot the miracle of turning off suffering - just bad luck he wasn't a Buddhist I suppose.

But some stories make sense. Nawrte, ble were ni? Oh yes. Should you be forced to pay someone else's debt? Wel, clearly no. It would be disgustingly immoral. What then about paying off more than someone else's debt? Wel, landlords think that's fine, and so does the IMF. Let's make like Quentin Crisp, and race to the bottom. Can we think of something worse? I once knew a landlord who bought fair-trade coffee -

* notasausage * -

Hmmm...must get a drum machine. Indeed. Wel, I was hoping Clarence would appear, but instead it's Keynes and that one that sounds like Haiku. Malheureusement, on dois poppez out to do some very un-lillylike toiling now, and so I'll add this brief REM statement - countries is boats, sea-level is global money, national economies are deckchair arrangers since sovereign nations have become subordinate to the globalised market. What a dull phrase.

The clever man invented the chip, so that money was one step away. And one step is hard for a human. Three would be incredible. Gadewch i ni weld how many steps to force-starve an African from here, and feel innocent, or even benevolent.

The diffusion of responsibility is the most dangerous of perceptional delusions, and anyone using a traded currency is playing at the table. How much money you are responsible for reflects how much you are responsible for. Yes.

Iesu Mawr!....It's those two I mentioned earlier! -

Haiku:- Actually I sound more like kayak I seem to remember now -

REJ:- Wel, I'll call you Rose anyway -

Keynes:- Hahaha! Mr. Pink! -

REJ:- And you can be Royale with cheese. Off you go -

Rose:- I think we should save up and build a dam. -

Royalewithcheese:- I think we should borrow and build a dam. -

REJ:- Splendigedig! Only the dam's 1% the height of the tide. Who said default is ok? Idi Amin's seismologist. -

*tumbleweed* -

REJ:- Hmmm....Wel, economics is boring, and we all know deregulation of global finance and the IT revolution has caused the flow of capital to rise from $80 billion a day in 1980, to $whatevertrillion today. Thus fucking long term investment etc bla. etc. Christ it is dismal.

*****one last drivel economics tome to read****

Poem for the day

2011-08-18T14:28:00.000+01:00

Ah yes. Must open those letters. Hmmm...let's try this one marked 'B'. Oooh! It's a 1 and a 3. Nawrte, I'm riding my bicycle, as you had probably guessed from my bell - *ting!* - there it is again if you missed it earlier - and while I'm riding, I'm typing. I only hope my laptop doesn't run out of ink.

The gwynt is in my hair, the sky is 'tween my ears, and the graphics boys have done an ardderchog job with the scrolling, even keeping the sun at effective infinity. The trees are whispering by smoothly, and my route is alive! Lined with living, breathing, hoof-ed hedgerows, those fallen clouds, those bleatsome-cotton sages of the - Oooh! look out Emmanuel Jones! there's a split pair. Now what was that old country rhyme?....have to make it up quick....

If you see a lamb and ewe
Either side the road from you
And you're wondering what they'll do
It's lamb to ewe, ten times to two.

REJ:- But it's only half-past -

*ting!* *ting!!!* *BAA!!!* *Ooof!* *tng*

REJ:- Shepherd's delight. Wel, that's enough ethological rhyme for one day. Let's be back home and writing a pome for Sioned instead. That should shut her up about that job. Nawrte...hmmm....she likes the newyddion....ok, go the first -

A rioter in Clapham Junction
Had a todger that just wouldn't function
His wife went out looting
Ann Summers in Tooting....

...truncheon. Yes. No! That's a sosban for sure...what was the other thing they liked? Ah, of course, ponies. Go the second:-

A man with a pony and trap
Found a fossilised dinosau....

Diawl! think now, Jones bach...Aha! flowers! Da iawn. They always like flowers. Ok go the third:-

Fuschia bells, fuschia bells
Watching o'er embraceful dells
Sweet as so the air to sing
Chime delicious blossom ring

The bluebell bows, the cowbell cows
The fuschia hangs umbrella boughs
And reigns as if a frozen breeze
Was melted warm by summer ease
So softer than the resting seas
Caress sands silting Neptune's pleasure
Fuschia is my love, my treasure.

Hedonistic sustainability

2011-08-17T08:06:00.000+01:00

Now if you have your own windmill, your electric is free. But if you have lots of windmills, economies of scale means your electric goes up. Yes. The teletubbification of Wales would seem then to be a mistake. Nothing is often the wisest thing to say, and always the greenest thing to do. Apart from composting yourself. But people prefer doing things, and the doctrine of intelligent laziness will never catch on. Somethingmustbedone. As Gandhi said 'Be the change you want to see in the world'. So, nappies on, and sitting comfortably thinking about salt, let's see who comes through the catflap today.

....er...it's a chihuahua. Now that is silly -

Chihuahua:- A Great Dane would be silly -

REJ:- Scooby don't. Nawrte boys, Malthus has been wrong every year since 1798. So the odds are he's going to be right soon. That's why I buy scratchcards -

Ch:- Correct. Things are hotting up, Richard, and the time is upon us. But let's look at alternative alternatives. Since the non-alternative alternatives are a bit old hat. -

REJ:- The ceiling's yours -

Ch:- Diolch. All this I have seen. First, smart bacteria, augmenting nano-gnats, will inject hyperphotosynthetic tattoos onto Australians. This will mean kangaroos can be burnt for fuel -

REJ:- That doesn't sound particularly green -

Ch:- Ha! I suspect you stumbled over my use of the word 'burnt' -

REJ:- Maybe, maybe not -

Ch:- You've no idea have you? -

REJ:- I might have -

Ch:- Have you? -

REJ:- No.

Ch:- In the future, the word 'burnt' means 'incorporated into over-unity cyber-hamster-balls'. But 'burnt' is shorter. -

REJ:- Even language will be more efficient! -

Ch:- Yes. Now the overunitycyberhamsterballs will raise the solar net-wire into space - wireless of course -

REJ:- Lighter that way -

Ch:- And the solar radiation will be refocussed on the betattooed Australians. You see how it all fits together, Gaia-style? -

REJ:- What happens when you run out of kangaroos? -

Ch:- Well, you move on to Arabs and camels. And adjust the net-wire. -

REJ:- Hmmmm...ok, what's next? -

Ch:- We drill baby drill, deep into the earth. But first we build a chimney into space. More of a lift really. Built by -

REJ:- Smart bacteria -

Ch:- Yes. And the half-vegetable people.

REJ:- Wel, they'll get bored out in the sun all day. What happens when the earth's empty though? -

Ch:- Way ahead of you. That's what it means to be a futurologist. Neuronanogenosuper fish are evolved up a gradient to desalinate the oceans. And spit it onto the Sahara, a bit like those spitting fish. Hang on a mo, I think they'll fly as well. -

REJ:- Jolly good -

Ch:- Yes. The Sahara will bloom, fix the CO2, and create ideal habitat for Kanga-camels. Yes, that's it -

REJ:- No flying cars then? -

Ch:- We're doing the future. Canada will be turned into wire by eletransmutation, and the empty core of the earth filled with a coil. The magnetic poles will be raised on scaffolding, I know a good firm, and I've forgotten how a dynamo works. But in the future people will know. And probably do something like that. I'm not Faraday, I'm a chihuahua. -

REJ:- Anything else? -

Ch:- Smart lions, with smart bacteria on their tongues, will lick cows and turn methane into water. There might be some intermediate steps there, but nothing to trouble a biochemist of the future. I feel sure -

REJ:- What about neuroxeno-luminescent jelly-mice?

Ch:- Well, the rule of the future is you can make more than you can imagine. That's until the further future, when you can imagine more than you can make. Although you'll no longer be you. You'll be something else.

REJ:- I hope I don't make it.

Poem for the day

2011-08-16T18:35:00.000+01:00

Nawrte. I've conceived. The experiment is that telephones can't be invented. You'd only hear an imperfect copy later, and no one would be fooled by that. Let's see if the pizza arrives.

Wel, heddiw we have what I like to call, a schizophrenic confessional. It's me pretending to be someone else, pretending to be insane, but not very well. We may as well give him a name - just pick two odd Welsh ones. That's him. Take it away, him that is not me!

HTINM:- Diolch. Here is my pome. What is a sign of a healthy noodle.

Three cats, a dog, and a strawberry fool
All hitched a ride on a five-legged mule
And off they went to the magical school
Where bees teach honey and fan the class cool
On a platform hexagonal floating in gruel.

The lessons were long and the summer was short
He added up all of the things they'd be taught
With particular heed to irregular thought
And the time it takes felines to contemplate nought
Though some claimed it pointless, vast fleas were there caught.

The fleas fed the birds as they leapt in the sky
And the ground fed the trees as it breathed with a sigh
And we all ask the bees when we want to know why
So the dog and the strawberry felt they should try
But the cats dwelt on nothing that money can't buy.

If only the spiders attended as well
For a spider's an ant with a self-diving bell
And our only known conduit twixt heaven and hell
The octofoot psychopomp crawling to tell
With a feardom personified tolling the knell.

So what does this mean? is the question you ask
That self-betterment's always an onerous task
And most frightening of all is behind of the mask
Where the mind in its nakedness shocks from the cask
And reality's made as unreal as damask.

REJ:- The pizza has arrived!

The Wasteland

2011-08-14T13:35:00.000+01:00

Cludgie-anagram T.S.Eliot famously measured his life in spoons. But is there more to life than cutlery? It's a difficult answer. So let us, with a gladsome mind, move on to late-night shopping. Late-night shopping. I'll never understand it. But maybe reflex ejaculations from our finest thinkers - Starkey aside, since I need at least one hand behind my back to bother - can explain. And if I just randomly magick them in and out, it will be far less effort to write. I find them boring too.

Wel, everyone wants to appear first. We could order them by cliche I suppose, or we could go for a linear narrative, with a repetitive stealth-refrain under the thinkdar, or we could be made of electrons, and take the path of least resistance. I've never been in such an excited state, so subject to spin.

So, any order it is. I'll correct them later I yawnise.

Archbishop of Beardbury:- *Wrrrriiiiing!!!*

REJ:- Lovely Welsh Rrrrrrrrs, I use my tongue -

AOB:- Sharia is more hands-on. -

REJ:- Straighter than Ernie Wise -

AOB:- Two men in a bed. I think lots about that -

REJ:- Nawrte, sense now boys bach. Is there any way, any way at all, any possible justification, any possible excuse, any etc, that you should be paid £400 a day? -

AOB:- The hat's heavy -

REJ:- Hmmmm...

AOB:- The stick's unwieldy -

REJ:- er...

AOB:- You've worked it out on a five-day week. I only do Sundays -

REJ:- How much is the rent? -

AOB:- Fuck off.

REJ:- As a hangover ensures a continuous steady improvement in circumstance, so we have our next enguestulation. And if it's not Mr. Potato head with his angry eyes, then I'm Geert Wilders -

Pat Condell:- I think it's religion. Muslims mostly. Desert god. I'm very brave. Wibble, wibble -

REJ:- Be some sore wrists in the morning! -

PC:- Blessed are the peacemakers. That's me. Peace. -

REJ:- Sioned says I musn't say twat. Or Norwegian fan. Hmmm....I suppose that does sound rude too. Ok, who's our next verbal bulimic? -

David Eton:- Let's be absolutely tanned. This is criminality. This is not like taking drugs at Eton. -

REJ:- It's funny reading Orde -

DE:- The lieback has begun. My punishment was exclusion from society. Suspension from Eton. For a bit. I Kill Libyans. But why do some people find violence exciting? They are, quite wankly, sick. -

REJ:- We should track them down -

DE:- Tuscany's nice.

REJ:- 340 dead coons in 12 years and no cops jailed. Right, lets not play the race card. Keep your mind above your navel. Ok who's next to vomit? -

Nick Griffin:- The colour-coding system has been completely messed up. You can't tell who the goodies and baddies are until they open their mouths -

REJ:- Yes, I just noticed -

NG:- And -

REJ:- No, you're only worth one line. And that was like tennis against Hawking. Shall we crank it up a bit? -

NG:- Keep it simple. Supreme persons aren't so quick -

REJ:- Wel, for reasons of spatio-temporal constraints, and boredom, lets have one anyMP -

OneanyMP:- The problem is the three R's. Reading, 'Riting, 'Rithmetic, and 'Respec'. Some of these people can't even count. We need better sums in our schools -

REJ:- If £3.50 gets you 6 months, what does £20,000 get you? -

OneanyMP:- A duckhouse.

REJ:- As Hazel Blears says, we must apply the full farce of the law. But let's ignore her, and go instead to Boris Hairbrush -

BH:- Thankyou. Yes. Good point. Yes. Well you're always trying to make me look silly. Yes. Good point. Sticks. Yes. -

REJ:- Now Boris, I feel you may be the last of the easy targets before we do something deeper, so maybe you could say something silly, and blame it on me -

BH:- Yes. Good point. I understand. I don't like eggs. Now I think we need to hear a little bit less about economics. Looting is never about economics. Look at how many libraries were looted -

REJ:- No libraries -

BH:- Good point, well done. Yes. But - Can I talk to some volunteers? Are you a volunteer? This is the true Blitz spirit. When burglaries went up. Although you may have bought into the myth. Good point. etc. -

REJ:- Bedknobs and broomsticks. Wel, baseball-bat sales are up 5000%. Hang on a mo, I've become an intrepid reporter. Like Tintin. -

*earpiece!...find me a muslim....I've got the 2 day old fire in a loop....*

REJ:- Better do as I'm told. Like an economic-determinist. Not that that's plausible. -

REJTintin:- Helo, Mr. Muslim. Now I underknow your son was killed last night. You must be very angry. Look at these flames -

MrM:- No, I'm just sad. I think the violence should stop -

REJT:- But, your son was brutally killed. You must be calling for Jihad, like it says on the TV:-

Mr.M:- I'm sorry, but I refuse to integrate -

*earpiece! Get a proper Mooooslim or I'm fired*

REJT:- There aren't any. Hundreds can do this, and there are millions of moooooslims here. What a hack. I blame the parent company.

*Tintin to the crab aux pinces d'or!*

REJ:- Wel, we could take some vox pops, or we could deny anecdata. It would be worth it for a play on words. People could feel clever. Let's do the vox pops tomorrow, as I'm finding it tedious. Instead for now, let's have an expert on shoppingology, Dr. Adverts de Spaz:-

Dr.AdS:- Enchante! -

REJ:- Nawrte, Dr.Adverts de Spaz, many people find it puzzling that many people don't find it puzzling that intrinsically valueless bollocks-tat can have such a high value. In the minds of Spazzes. Like you. -

Dr.AdS:- And me. You'll have to start the refrain soon if you want to call it such. Anyway, Pavlov is dead.

*drrrrrriiiiiing! Beepity beep!*

Dr.AdS:- Excuse me. That's my new Twatphone. Tetra-phonic touch-tool. Would you like me to extol the virtues of my extended-phenotypical glintzy-magpie tinsel-bauble that have somehow become my own virtues, in my own mind, and that I feel an urge to proclaim, in your own too? -

REJ:- Not really. When I vomit on my keyboard I don't ask for the clap. -

Dr.AdS:- Yes but this is me. I don't have anything else. My job is to convince you that you don't either -

REJ:- It is very shiny -

Dr.AdS:- Do you want it? Do you want it Sir? Do you want it? There's a bird fingering it. Do you want it? Do you want it Sir? -

REJ:- Fast cars. Now before the deepity stuff, lets have Dr.Bendi. To say something silly. Just because he's feeling left out. And some not-joiners-in have felt so left out they've typed for days.

Dr.B:- Whoop! Whoop! This is how it is. Yes. Whoop. A feel is a reveal. Yes. A revelation. You can't help your reveals in advance unless you know you can. Whoop etc. Actions are feels travelling back to homeostasis. Convoluted. All in the balance. Now my hierarchical inference machine - that's him - says it with scales. Lower in the hierarchy must be greater weighting to overcome higher thoughts. Higher thoughts are post-hoc dulls. The bigger the flame beneath one scale, the bigger the flame 'neath the other must be. Ted Haggard.

REJ:- Wel, let's meet some normal people. They are the experts on abnormal people. Let's ask them all how much they plunder/earn from their own community. And see if they will admit it, or plead 'none-of-your-business'. - as if they knew it, but were ashamed.

1stnormalperson:- None-of-your-business. Anyway, I worked hard for it. Just look at me. I could run a marathon with a hod of bricks on my back. Look how hard I've worked.

REJ:- An intellectual, I think. What price ideas? -

1np:- None-of-your-business. These people are animals. Destroying their own businesses. That are none-of-their-business -

REJ:- No point if no one gets it. Let's try a lower gear -

2ndNormalperson:- These people have everything. So there is no excuse. Look at Somalia. There is no excuse for my middle class depression. Feels real though -

REJ:- Perhaps a big fire would make a clearer point. Albeit inarticulate -

BigFire:- Hello. I am a bigfire. See my fingers dance! You find me exciting don't you? -

REJ:- No, I'm far above that. Not! Lol. I'm down with the kids! -

Entrepreneur:- Hello. I own ten houses, and three were burnt down. I think I should have their housing benefit cut so I learn about theft.

REJ:- If you gotta ask, you'll never know -

3rdNormalperson:- I'm going to pick up on what you said earlier. I blame the parents. Now, we haven't made the parents. That's a crucial point. Children do. Years are long aren't they? The problem is in the home. Homes are nothing to do with economics. But if the childrens were paid £50grand a year and given two houses at least, they wouldn't fiddle their expenses. -

REJ:- Louis Armstrong -

4thnormalperson:- I just don't understand it. And if I really don't, then it won't happen again. Can we swap them for Norwegian kids? -

REJ:- Whatever.

Pome for the day

2011-08-08T14:31:00.000+01:00

Savage noble Iago Prytherch, has manifested in here ntly to enpoemfy, in his disgusting whiney-grating North Walean accent - a bit like scouse, for some reason that is unclear to anyone. But I think it's safe to dismiss him. I'd rather be a wog than a gog. Actually, I'd rather be a dog. I could drink out of toilets and be happy. Unfortunately, he says he won't go until he's said it. But they're not addictive.

How nice to be a flutter-by
With compound brain and fractured eye
And ne'er the flit to wonder why
But just respond to stimuli
How nice indeed, not nice at all
But not for long before the fall.

The wind is like the sea but thin
The flutter-by is thicker in
Its arms command the desert djinn
And waves upon the lands of sin
Now every being surely knows
The flutter-by will come to blows.

So flotsam on the ocean fears
Pass through this vale of telomeres.

REJ:- Perhaps 20Mg more.

Monumental

2011-08-07T12:15:00.000+01:00

REJ:- Dear Powys County Council. It has been a long struggle -

Paperclip!:- Hello! It looks like you're trying to write a psychopathic manifesto. Would you -

REJ:- I will in a minute you little -

Paperclip!:- Would you like to play monopoly? -

REJ:- SIONED! There's something wrong with ffenestrations nawdeg pump again! -

SIONED:- What do you want me to do? -

REJ:- I want you to fix the operating system. That's an IT term. -

SIONED:- Ok go to Start -

REJ:- Start -

SIONED:- My computer -

REJ:- My computer -

SIONED:- Dull fucker in mirror -

REJ:- I wonder if I can break the fourth wall in 2D. I can. Mirror neurons on the wall, who's the fairest of them all? Snow right. Now the digital age is upon us. 6 billion base pairs in a locust. I prefer Vinyl. Sioned has been improbably Mcafee'd away and instead I've downloaded Mr. Prysor ap Plasma, he of the committee for the erection of public monuments. Prysor ap Plasma! Croeso i that real place but with one letter mutated! -

PAP:- Diolch.

REJ:- Wel you've kissed the Blarney stone -

PAP:- The locals wee on it -

REJ:- Don't believe everything you hear. Just the exciting things -

PAP:- Was there some reason you downloaded me? Or were you just browsing and got distracted? -

REJ:- I have free will and take responsibility for my pixels -

PAP:- And so you should. Because thought-crimes are action-crimes and you can be jailed for it. And rightly so. Symboltastic. Now the power of symbols cannot be denied. While you accept people are vampires, great caution must be exorcised in the erection of symbols. -

REJ:- The glorious undead -

PAP:- They did not undie in vain -

REJ:- Except when they did.

PAP:- Now as everybody knows, the population of Britain dies every year -

REJ:- They must be fed up -

PAP:- But temporal constraints make it difficult to organise which to feel sad about in what order -

REJ:- If only someone could tell us -

PAP:- Perhaps stones can. I'm joking of course. They can. Now short-cuts to base emotions are always helpful -

REJ:- Yes, superstimuli give the clearest thoughts -

PAP:- Correct. We need only look at Austrians protecting stones but killing people -

REJ:- I feel big hats may be important too -

PAP:- Yes, plastic flowers even more so.

REJ:- Really? plastic flowers? -

PAP:- If they're the right colour. People are not bulls, Richard, they're not colour-blind. Apart from the ones that are -

REJ:- I'm sure that meant something -

PAP:- Tell me the secret of man's red fire -

REJ:- What are you? Some kind of ape?! -

PAP:- No, a fallen angel. Let's get back to the masons. Anyone who forgets plagiarism is doomed to repeat it -

REJ:- Wel I've heard of Americaland, since my teachers told me Madog discovered it.

PAP:- That's correct. It hadn't been there before.

REJ:- And I heard it was a melting pot. Where Indians were melted -

PAP:- Don't call them that. Imagine how that would feel. Worse than melting -

REJ:- I thought trivialising it would make them feel better -

PAP:- You must be more careful, since signals depend on their receivers -

REJ:- Are the receivers mutable? -

PAP:- Oh yes, remotely even. And they've left themselves open source.

REJ:- I'm afraid my attention span is driven by a return to homeostasis watt steam governor in molecular form, tuned to frivolous, and I've just seen a squirrel -

PAP:- That's ok, I can ressurrect you with a cross.

REJ:- I doubt you could. Who's putting up a cross, the dull fuckers! -

PAP:- Some civil engineers in earth-land -

REJ:- Well I have a strong feeling about this one way or the other. Steel is magnetic.

PAP:- Metaphorically, yes. It can talk too. But what should it say? -

REJ:- I'm not sure. Would it not depend on the hearers? -

PAP:- Of course, but knowing what the hearers hear, what should it say? -

REJ:- Well if no one hears it -

PAP:- Look who gathers around to hear it.

REJ:- Look at it! Look at its silly tail!

Aberfan and the sins of man.

2011-08-02T17:22:00.000+01:00

London, 2012. No! I haven't perfected the time travelling yet, no. Maybe I will in the future, and then I can do it now. Indeed some of me can't even manage 60 minutes an hour. I'm always a little bit behind, but mainly in synch with my predators. So that's all da iawn. Yes. But it's the Olympics it is, and Iesu Mawr!, we are certainly not bored of it already. Legacy. That's what it's all about isn't it? It is the highest honour, for our English friends across the border, to have successfully won the most deprived place in europe competition, narrowly edging out the snail-chasing, goose-torturing, plongeurs down and out in the black economy of gay Parr-ee. That, and someone pressing the wrong button and losing his bribe at the voting.

Wel now boys bach, Sioned has left early today as there is an important debate down the Merched y Wawr, on the topical motion 'Is having no legs an unfair advantage in running?'. It's going to take a while apparently and so I've popped out - *pop!* - there it was....and *pop!*....that's me back in, - at Aberfan, scene of an horrific disaster to be talked about globally with all the clarity and perspective of the intertexts.

With me for my background to the story, is candle-in-the-dark Dr. Dafydd ap wetpants, Professor of Women's thoughtology at University of Cymru college, Llanbedr-pont-Steffan. Where they do the important humanities. Like what Grayling does but a tenth of the price. Or you could stay at home and do the OU. Dr. ap Wetpants! Neis i weld chi....i weld chi...neis!!! -

Dr. ap W.:- Bore da.

REJ:- Gem da, gem da. Gadewch i ni have a gweld at the old scoreboard! -

Dr. ap W:- ?

REJ:- Cuddly tegan! hahaha! or as they say, lol. I was being Sir Bruce Forsyth, but in Welsh.

Dr. ap W:- Why? -

REJ:- I don't know. But there must be some explanation for him.

Dr. ap W:- In my paper on the connotive and denotive semiotics of 'The Generation Game', I espoused the -

REJ:- Half past two. Nawrte, the history of the minings. Sioned says that in the olden days, when everything was in black and white, girls used to be miners. She's a twpsyn isn't she yes? -

Dr. ap W:- No, I'm afraid it is you who are the twpsyn as you put it. They did indeed used to be miners. Although it was very hot work underground, and they did it topless. -

REJ:- What do you mean, topless? -

Dr.ap W:- Well, with their charlies out.

REJ:- Are you sure? -

Dr. ap W:- Yes, I'm certain. Have a look at this photogram -

REJ:- it's well thumbed -

Dr. ap W:- Such is the nature of thorough research.

REJ:- Indeed. But did this not cause any interfractions? -

Dr. ap W:- These were simpler times, Richard, and simpler people. More innocent, childlike really. It wasn't their fault - they didn't know any better -

REJ:- Primitive indeed -

Dr. ap W:- And with all that coal dust, they even looked like darkies -

REJ:- Like on the Discovery channel! -

Dr. ap W:- Exactly, Richard. Jugs out everywhere, and no one responding correctly. It was only when Queen Victoria signed the 'Devil's Dumplings' act of 1862, that men began to have appropriate naughty thoughts. About Women's jubblies.

REJ:- What kind of thoughts? -

Dr. ap W:- Disgusting ones. You couldn't imagine -

REJ:- I could try -

Dr. ap W:- No. It would be offensive. In thirty years of studying Wimmin's thoughtology -

REJ:- *click!...delete history!* -

Dr. ap W:- That's better. Now the naughty thoughts is not there -

REJ:- 2 years too late -

Dr. ap W:- Well suppress them now. It makes for better behaviour. In my study 'Naughty thoughts is not real, and there aren't birds who has them', I successfully -

REJ:- Twenty to six. Nawrte, back to the mining. So the topless tunnellers got banned? -

Dr. ap W:- Yes. It was a disaster not happening to wait. There then followed the Church of England General Synod's ruling of 19somethingelse, led by His very Reverend Sidney of James on the objectification of onanistic orbs -

REJ:- Goodness! -

Dr. ap W:- No, badness. Previously, girl's globes had been fictional non-objects, that could pass through walls. etc. But now, as objects, a further problem arose. Namely, that of keeping them in their proper place.

REJ:- You just keep talking and I'll miss the contradictions -

Dr. ap W:- An urgent solution was required. In 19whateverwhen, Sir Wankfirmly de Shaft patented the 'Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder', and so liberated ladies' arms such that they could throw tennis balls badly -

REJ:- They must have been grateful. Not having to lop one off like an Amazonian archer -

Dr. ap W:- You'd think so. But some got womb-hysteria and later set fire to their hooter-holsters -

REJ:- It's a harder subject than I thought -

Dr. ap W:- The hardest. And yet the most important. But try telling that to NASA. The sapphic field trip to Venus I had been planning has all but been ruled out. Lesbianism has dried up. It's official.

REJ:- Well I'm bored already. Have we done Wimmin's history yet? -

Dr. ap W:- Herstory. No we haven't. They got the vote and stopped bad male things like war, and then they stopped worrying about their appearance. Which had been for the males. It was all won at great cost though, and they lost the privilege of white men and child-slaves to go down the mines. And to die on the frontline. And to top themselves at 4:1. And to be disproportionately physically attacked. But they did win on pay. And kept the ubiquitous andchildren suffix that means their deaths are more important. Sort of twice the value of a disposable man. That one's too common to notice though.

REJ:- Did they? - win on pay? I missed the next bit as it was too insidious.

Dr.ap W:- Yes. They're now paid on average as much as short men -

REJ:- Wel, Wel. I suppose they are a bit like short men aren't they? But with norks. Chwarae teg to market forces. They sort things out. But, remembering where we are, we must mention the horrific disaster that sent shockwaves around the world wherever people had nothing to do -

Dr. ap W:- You are refering of course to the Aberfan disaster -

REJ:- Yes -

Dr.ap W: - Well the way to a man's stomach is through his mouth. Or up his arse. Or just cut in. But the way to a mine is down a shaft. I said shaft.

REJ:- Go on -

Dr. ap W:- Not long ago, a terrible thing happened. In a shaft.

REJ:- Please don't use threatening words -

Dr. ap W:- What do you mean?

REJ:- It's parsed over. I realised I did the parsing. But tell of the terrible thing -

Dr. ap W:- Well a terrible thing happened. A gayer was in the lift with a man. A big burly gayer. You know what they're like -

REJ:- Just after one thing -

Dr. ap W:- Yes. But this one was a poet -

REJ:- difficult -

Dr. ap W:- Indeed. And he said 'Drop your drawers, the coffee's yours' -

REJ:- the smooth-talking bastard -

DR. ap W:- And the man said 'No thanks'.

REJ:- Well I can't sleep. What happened next?

Dr. ap W:- Some typing happened.

REJ:- I feel gay-raped -

Dr. ap W:- Your personal dull feeling is important. You can't control it as you are a weak and feeble man. Perhaps you are a cartoon stereotype, and wish to be treated as such. Maybe a mouse could lead you to jumping on a chair and shouting 'Thomas, thomas!'.

REJ:- Well I've been potentially raped at least, surely? -

Dr. ap W:- Well no, you're not involved at all. But don't you feel excited?

REJ:- No.

Dr. ap W:- Willies.

Screaming Lord Sutch and the Loony lotto

2011-06-26T19:07:00.000+01:00

Helo. Now I'm often told that breakfast is the most important meal of the morning. And the way to a man's heart is through his ribs. But barbecue ribs is an unhealthy breakfast. It's hard to keep up with the fads. Anyway it's dinner time, and joining me for a feast of foolery is a man who needs an introduction, and security clearance, and a touch of febreeze by the smell of it, - the not-quite-so-screaming-now Lord Sutch. Not-quite-so-screaming-now Lord Sutch! Croeso i Llanfihangel-y-creuddun! -

NQSSNLS:- Hello Richard! -

REJ:- Hello. Nawrte boys bach, have you got any healthy living tips for the bored? -

NQSSNLS:- Not really, I hanged myself -

REJ:- And how did that work out for you? -

NQSSNLS:- Pretty final really. You see my mother died, and -

REJ:- But did you feel healthier in your self? -

NQSSNLS:- Do you want my hat? -

REJ:- Diolch yn fawr iawn! Yes indeed! Such esprit de corpse.

NQSSNLS:- No, seriously, it should be the last thing you do -

REJ:- Not quite, not-quite-so-screaming-now Lord Sutch! the last thing anyone should do is an interview with me -

NQSSNLS:- Well make it quick cos I want to watch Wimbledon.

REJ:- Me too.

NQSSNLS:- Fire away then -

REJ:- Well you're rushing me now. I've already missed the manifest-o pun.

NQSSNLS:- Ok I'll just tell you about my Loony lotto. Now there are 6 million households in the UK with an average net wealth of £4 million each. There are 20 million households. Now what is 6 x 4? -

REJ:- er...some fours -

NQSSNLS:- How many? -

REJ:- About six -

NQSSNLS:- Let's pretend it's 24 -

REJ:- Ooooh! you loony! you can't just go around pretending things and hope that it's too complicated for people to notice.

NQSSNLS:- So if you put all the money in a hat and made every ticket win, then every one would have a million pounds. One ticket per household. Terms and conditions don't apply -

REJ:- What's the four million spare for? -

NQSSNLS:- the hat.

REJ:- Hmmmm. What's my line now? -

NQSSNLS:- Well you have to make it sound silly -

REJ:- Wimbledon! Come on Tim!

Poem for the day etc

2011-06-26T09:21:00.000+01:00

'....you're listening to BBC Radio Wales...the time is....' -

REJ:- Jesus Iesu Mawr Christ!!! I am too! -

RADIO:- ...coming up to nine o'clock...

REJ:- *glance!* So it is indeed! -

RADIO:- ...its 19 degrees and sunny in Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun...

REJ:- Ok its getting spooky now. What colour socks am I wearing? -

RADIO:- You're not wearing any socks -

REJ:- Wel y Diawl...

RADIO:- And you're wearing last week's pants -

REJ:- *click!...off!* Sioned! Sioned! I said we shouldn't have gone digital -

SIONED:- Aren't you going to explain my implausible reappearance first? -

REJ:- er...lets see...there was an earthquake....and glyn-the-milk's high-tech, high-spec, hyundai pick-up -

SIONED:- I see. You're not bothering. I'm just a cheap comedic device to you am I? -

REJ:- Iesu Mawr, its started already...

SIONED:- What was that Emmanuel Jones?! -

REJ:- er...er...Sioned! I think the cat's trying to tell me something! -

*poke!...miaow!*

I think he wants me to follow him!

SIONED:- ?@*! -

REJ:- What's that Bobbie?....someone's in danger? What?...the Red Lion? -

SIONED:- *clunk!*

REJ:- *Ooof!*

SIONED:- *Slam!*

REJ:- Stupid cat! Why didn't you say y Llew Du? Sioned was bound to know the Red Lion's not open yet -

*hoof!*....*yowl!*

REJ:- Never mind. Gadewch i ni weld who we have enguestulated today. Why it's none other than Ifan Penweddwch. Hmmm...now who's he then? -

IP:- Haven't you made me up yet? -

REJ:- No idea. Are you the butcher? -

IP:- Nope -

REJ:- The doctor?-

IP:- Do I look like a doctor? -

REJ:- You could have been struck off -

IP:- Try something else -

REJ:- Do a mime -

IP:- *mime!* -

REJ:- I've got it! Gynaecologist -

IP:- No, postman. The parcel got stuck. I expect you'll be wanting to hear my latest poem -

REJ:- If it means you'll leave quicker.

IP:-

'An alphabet of letters,
Just four to fill my sack,
I ring your bell, deliver well,
And that explains our Jack'.

REJ:- You forgot Uracil -

IP:- I use Daz -

REJ:- ffs. Return to Sender -

IP:- There's a 20p overcharge -

REJ:- Sorry I'm not known at this address.

Daymare

2011-06-17T19:22:00.000+01:00

On the left, he could see, over on the bank beside the hedge, a little girl cutting flowers with some nail scissors. He stopped and watched thoughtfully. It was unusual weather for the time of year. In the attic the cleaning was nearly done. Just the windows and that was it. There remained but one greasy mark, smudged in a corner. Small fingerprints, a handprint, or was it a paw? It was no more. This was indeed a fine cloth for buffing. A slightly too proud nail snagged the edge, and tore a rend with a scream. He frowned. Now the cloth was spoilt. He took the nail scissors and trimmed the fraying edge.

Now of all the things to happen to a bee, - and we may grant the scientists much -, this and other recent circumstance, proved difficult to dress with order. He put down his arms and torso, folded them neatly, and flew out of the window.

It must have been a thousand thoughts, when the call faded to land. There passed a colonnade of ants. The quest had begun.

The unaccountable machine of Professor de ants.

B. found himself carried along on a forest of legs. Something certain but exciting was happening, something definite though unknown. The rushing river ran, first dark, then light, first red, then black, then confluence, then delta, then, as purpose finds its level, serene mature into the garden of earthly wisdom.

To the east of the garden towered a pinnacle of knowledge. The top was impossible to see, though it cast a great shadow, since a peak must be far from a trough. One thing was certain, it was immense in all directions. B. found himself alighting on a leaf and fancied he drank well of the dew. He turned, and there before him stanced the amiable monstrosity, Professor de ants.

It is customary in moments like these, to aspire to maintain an air, if not of insouciance, then of guarded politeness. B. tremored like a reed in bohemian lips. No vice could compress the feel into words required to transcribe the behemoth before him. The oval of its head entrolled capacious jaws of such that mere nations would tremble with admission. Atop the slattern cover yearned antennae unmistakeably for the reaving of souls. And this above and amidst a wreathing psychoscrabbling of legs uncountable entrapped and blinkered, yet! they knew the race begun.

‘Would you like to see my machine?’ said Professor de ants. Slime before rhetoric, and B. nodded before replying. Two transports appeared, and eastbound, instinct drove them thence, with unnatural speed.

We must depart convention, and now describe the vision that befell B.

The vision that befell B.

Wreatheing, bursting, frantic, clasping, twisting, counting - yes counting!, like the dominoes of good intentions, wove the weaving thread the first, and higher higher counting lesser, wove the counter thread of worse, twining, climbing, weaving lighting, cloved the thunder of the thirst. Breathing, seething, flying clad-bound, grasping moaned the spire in pants. And all as one he saw the mountain seething abacus of ants!

Sad jar of atoms poem for the day

2011-05-16T14:04:00.000+01:00

A sad jar of atoms, alone on a shelf
Jostled net-nowhere, preserving its self
Out it could see! - through transparent skin
But it wanted another, so it could see in.

Poem for the day

2011-04-11T00:16:00.001+01:00

Twas kick-off in the stadium
An early start that dawn
And many eyes had gathered round
To see the first cap born

The sun was bright electric
The scrum shoved to and fro
The number nine wore green and white
The ball not long to show

The loose-head prop was grunting
The air was sweated thick
The ref peered close the shunting
Lest ball be dead or quick

A shove across the gain-line
From twixt the legs appeared
Feed out! Feed out! and draw the man!
The back line sore afeared
From in the stands, in green and white
A lone supporter cheered

What? REJ it up a bit? Ok...encore un fois...from le top...

Bore da. Now many people see rugby as metaphor for life. - that's what is says here - Emrys and his bloody notes. Incidentally, Emrys can't be with us today in person, because he isn't one. He is in fact an egg-whisk in a bowl of thesaurus. But don't worry about that, I handle the logistics. Here's one he spilt earlier:-

Twas kick-off in the stadium
An early start that dawn
And many eyes had gathered round
To see the first cap born

The sun was bright electric
The scrum shoved to and fro
The number nine wore green and white
The ball not long to show

The loose-head prop was grunting
The air was sweated thick
The ref peered close the shunting
Lest ball be dead or quick

A shove across the gain-line
From twixt the legs appeared
Feed out! Feed out! and draw the man!
The back line sore afeared
From in the stands, in green and white
A lone supporter cheered

REJ:- Diolch yn fawr, Emrys! -

Emrys Egg-whisk:- *whir!* -

The game played hard, the passions high
Elation, then depression
How urgent felt the battle cry
For first-quarter possession.

REJ:- Yes it's looking a bit forced now -

E.EW:- *whir!* -

Twas half-time in the stadium
The pace had surely slowed
Yet faster ran the game-clock
As the anxious faces showed

REJ:- No, you really should have stopped -

E.EW:- *whir!* -

The scarves and hats were fading
The singing seemed less strong
The laws again a-changing
Christ! the whistle can't be long!
The number eight's a stranger,
And the words don't fit the song

REJ:- I think that's a yellow card. Yes, definitely a yellow -

E.EW:- *whir!* -

Twas midnight in the stadium
The echoes have all gone
The final pass beneath the grass
And no-one knows who won

REJ:- Red card! Subtle as Tom Jones' underpants! You won't make much selling the notes now will you? Early bath! etc.

The trial

2011-04-08T18:51:00.000+01:00

Children of the future age
Reading this indignant page
Know that in a former time
Killing strangers was thought fine

Col. Tidmarsh-Basilton-Smythe:- Case no.#32461. Emmanuel Jones. Bring in Emmanuel Jones -

Lt.Sniveller:- Very good sir! -

REJ:- Hmmm. No cheers like for the Fonz. Dim ots -

TBS:- Are you Richard Emmanuel Jones, of Ceiliog-mawr farm, Llanfihangel-yr-Creuddun? -

REJ:- Sort of - I'm his great-grandfather -

TBS:- What's the time number one? -

Lt.S- Approaching quarter past seven, sir -

TBS:- 19:14. Jolly good. Richard Emmanuel Jones' great-grandfather -

REJ:- Yes that was me -

Lt.S.:- Yes that was me sir! -

REJ:- It can't was be both of us -

Lt.S:- Answer 'Sir' when you address your superior!

REJ:- Who is my superior?

Lt.S.:- The one with the colourful shoulders -

REJ:- Yes that it was me indeed, your Sirness -

TBS:- Now then Jones. I've read your case file, and preliminary investigations show you to be of the male persuasion. But there seems to be a problem. What is the problem that there seems to be? -

REJ:- Well I was moving the sheep to the high grazing up Mynydd Iwan, when I was arrested and brought here.

TBS:- Precisely. Now listen up Emmanuel Jones Snr x 2, we're having a bit of a show -

REJ:- Oooh! Like the eisteddfod! I recall when -

TBS:- Yes, yes, like the eisteddfod. And we've cast you, as it were, in a - how shall I put this - in a 'front of stage' role. -

REJ:- Duw, duw, boys bach, there's lovely! -

TBS: - Now if you would be so kind as to put your signature..here!...Lieutenant Sniveller will fix you up with your costume and we'll say no more about it. You do like buttons don't you Jones? -

- That's how it's done, Sniveller!, I thought you said he was -

REJ:- Oooh! Yes, buttons! -

TBS:- Buttons, yes. Now if you could just -

REJ:- What exactly does the role involve? -

Lt.S:- I told you Sir!, He's -

TBS:- Pipe down Sniveller! I'll deal with this. Watch and learn man, watch and learn. Now Jones, the role involves....er......the despatching of....er....good news, yes that's it, a little tour abroad to meet some strangers and....er....give them the good news. -

REJ:- What is the good news? -

TBS:- That you are going to kill them. It's quite straightforward, nothing to worry about, all above board and whatnot -

REJ:- Iesu mawr! Y Parch won't let me do that! I haven't been to chapel since Mrs Davies Penwaun's rabbit had a poorly cough, poor dab, but I'm sure I remember -

TBS:- eh? What? -

Lt.S.:- * whisper! *

TBS:- Oh don't worry about that Jones, they're on board too. We've all decided -

REJ:- Oooh well I'm sorry indeed after you brought me all this way and the cup of tea and everything, but I don't think it's the role for me. I'd best get back to the sheep – good luck with it anyway -

TBS:- Good God man! We can't do it from behind this desk can we now? Think man! England expects -

Lt.S:- * whisper! *

TBS:- ahem!...Britain expects every man to.....Sniveller! Fetch the Sequentially Advancing Picturator!

Lt.S.:- With drool, Sir! -

TBS:- Very good number one. Now take a look at this Jones:-

* click! whir! *

TBS:- What do you see here? -

REJ:- He....he's tossing babies onto bayonettes! I can't watch! I -

TBS:- There! You see now Jones don't you? What do you think should be done to this man? -

REJ:- He should be killed! Dammo he should be killed. -

TBS:- So! Not a pacifist eh? -

REJ:- I like the sea -

TBS:- Write that down number one! We've got him! -

Lt.S.:- '...likes the sea...'

TBS:- That's the spirit boy! And that is what your role is. Couldn't be simpler. We'll make a soldier of you yet by thunder! -

REJ:- Well bring him in and I'll do it! -

TBS:- eh? what? eh? -

REJ:- Bring him in and I'll do it!

TBS:- No, no, no. You don't understand. We don't want you to kill him. We can't know where he is now can we? Damn you Jones, buck your ideas up -

REJ:- Sorry! But then what exactly do you mean? -

Lt.S.:- May I suggest infantry Sir? -

TBS:- Yes, yes, infantry. Now pay attention Emmanuel Jones. What we have decided you should do, in the light of the Sequentially advancing picturations, which you saw for yourself with your very own eyes, etc, is to kill someone else wearing the same costume.

REJ:- ...someone else.......the same costume...

TBS:- Yes, yes, someone else wearing the same costume. You are to kill them. Doesn't matter who - the more the merrier. Now we've gone to a lot of trouble to cast you in this role, and -

REJ:- Well I don't think that would be right, I mean -

TBS:- WHAAAAAAT?!!! You don't think it would be right?! Right! Right! Left! Left! Right! What could you, a farmer, know about right? I -

REJ:- I was right that time when Dilys Penuwch was lambing and -

TBS:- Even a stopped clock is right twice a day! -

Lt.S.:- Oh, well done, Sir -

REJ:- Pardon you me?!

TBS:- Even a stopped clock is right twice a day. You see, when -

REJ:- Not if it's a 24 hr clock -

TBS:- What?! -

REJ:- Not if it's a 24 hr clock it isn't.

TBS:- Well then it's right once a day -

REJ:- Not if it displays dates too -

TBS:- Then it's right once a year -

REJ:- Not if it stopped on february the 29th -

TBS:- Forget about the stopped clock -

REJ:- I'm afraid I can't! A sundial is stopped and right all day long -

TBS:- Not at night! Not at night, Jones! -

REJ:- A moon-dial -

TBS:- A moon-dial?! I've never heard such -

REJ:- What about a stop-watch? That's only right when it is stopped. An hour-glass on the other hand -

TBS:- What?! What?! This man is insane! insane I say! Can we hang people for being insane?!

Lt.S.:- It depends what the time is -

REJ:- Just coming up to twenty to eight now -

TBS:- 19:39. What can we get him on?

Lt.S.:- Oh, quite a lot still, Sir. * whisper! whisper! *

REJ:- If the Sun was the hour hand, and a year was an hour, and the universe stopped so there was no -

TBS:- Very well. You've asked for this Jones. Sniveller! Fetch......The Persuader!

Lt.S:- Very good Sir!, exquisite timing!, indefatig -

TBS:- Jump to it man! We've got a live one here! -

* scurry! retrieve! *

TBS:- * Thud!* There! What do you say now, Jones?! The Persuader! * beam! * -

REJ:- er...it's a cloth...

TBS:- WHAAAAAAT?!!! WH -

REJ:- It's a tea-towel is it? Am I getting warm? -

TBS:- * Gibber! * -

REJ:- It's got a cross on it, no wait, two, it's -

TBS:- I'll see you hang for this Jones!!! Millioms have given their lives for this cloth! Millions -

REJ:- It's a very nice cloth, but I -

TBS:- a – very – nice – ….Sniveller! my medicine! my medicine! -

Lt.S.:- Say 'When' Sir -

Lt.S.- * whisper whisper *

TBS:- Good idea. Bring in the Arbiter of Cowardice. Miss Tuskervirgin -

TV:- I am Miss Tuskervirgin, self-appointed Conscience of the Nation. I give you this.... -

REJ:- Oooh no tickling please!

TV:- ….feather.

TBS:- What do you say to that Jones? Pretty convincing eh? -

REJ:- It's...um....a....

TBS:- Confound it Jones! Do you know what would happen if everyone were like you? Do you? -

REJ:- You mean if no-one turned up? -

TBS:- Yes! If no-one turned up! How could we have a show without -

Lt.S:- * whisper whisper *

TBS:- Yes. I think that must be it. I'll delegate this unpleasant duty to your good self. What time is it anyway? This is taking longer than one would have thought to get the correct verdict -

Lt.S.:- Oh, could be almost anytime really -

TBS:- Well! Jump to it Number one! -

Lt.S:- By the powers invested in me by His Primejesty whoever bla bla etc I ask are you, or have you ever been, an 'omosexual?

REJ:- That's a good knot you're tying. Is it a lasso? -

TBS:- Answer him Jones! Answer as if your very life depended on it! -

REJ:- Well I don't see how my very life could depend on -

TBS:- WHAAAAAAT?!!! - M-m-matters of state! Of the highest importance!

Lt.S.:- It's what we're fighting for! Have you no sense of justice at all? -

REJ:- Sioned read me 'In the penal colony' once. There was this machinery....blind machinery....

TBS:- Penal! The man said Penal. Write that down number one! -

Lt.S.:- How do you spell it? -

TBS:- Never mind Lieutenant. Give him your gun. Which in his case, he has not got.

Lt.S:- But Sir, it's -

TBS:- That's an order, Sniveller! Put your weapon in his hands at once. Lets see how he handles it. You can tell a lot about a man from how he handles his weapon. er...I'm told...

REJ:- What do you want me to do with it?

Lt.S:- Caress it! Just the right amount. But I'm not going to tell you how much is the right amount -

TBS:- Quite right Sniveller. It must be a fair trial, or we'd be as bad as the other lot. Listen now Emmanuel Jones. Every man must do his duty. When a man's life, nay his whole country, and it's freedoms and all he holds true, are threatened by criminally insane autocrats, who would stop at nothing to act out their depraved and wanton destruction, when all that he stands for is held hostage at the point of a gun or the dangling of a noose, when he comes face to face with all this, this true evil, then that is his enemy. And the enemy of all good men. And that enemy must be destroyed, regardless of any personal considerations – something much bigger is at stake. Destroyed! Do you understand? The evil must be destroyed! Now, for the last time, will you do your duty? -

REJ:- Yes, I will. But with a heavy heart -

TBS:- God bless airstrip one! By thunder we did it! Eh Sniveller? -

Lt.S.:- S-s-sir...

TBS:- Jones?...er....Jones?...-

REJ:- * click! *.....* bang! *.......* click! *.....* bang! *......*thudd - dud*.

REJ:- Ooooh! Look at the time. Just gone ten past. 9:11.

dim et rit.

The Moral Samscape

2011-03-16T06:56:00.000Z

March again. Just like last year. But Marchog means knight or horseman. At least I think it does, I may be being laughed at in Patagonia. But I can't hear them! Now we all know that moon-faced Mongols are the best horsemans. However, there are four famous horsemans in the yurtless world too. And one has just fallen off! After years of being clever and funny, SamIam Harris-Eyebrow has finally built his marvellous mechanical magical mouse-abacus and emerged from his Buddha-bat-cave to bring us Nirvana. Nawrte boysbach Iesu Mawr. They say in Trawsfynydd-yr-wyddfa you can't judge a book by it's cover. 'Healthy eating' by Elvis Preseli. 'Perpetual Motion Machines' by A. Kentuckyfarmer. 'On Liberty' by Colonel Hannibal Gadaffi. Etc. So with the aid of little Ethan Emmanuel Jones bach, I down-stole the audio llyfr off Meheartiesbay.com and had it straight from the horseman's mouth. Which is still working. Please be up-sitting for SamIam Harris-Eyebrow!

SH:- Thankyou Richard. For this opportoonity to respond to my critics in Wales, England.

REJ:- Croeso. Use this spade if you like -

SH:- Hiiiiii Hoooooo!!! We dig dig dig dig -

REJ:- Hmmmm. I think so. Now SamIam, you've not been well for a while now recently, and I must congratulate you on becoming a doctorate of the future Neurosciences -

SH:- I do philosophy too -

REJ:- Yes you did. Indeed. Sense now SamIam, Richard here, why do you think everyone has noticed your book is rubbish? even stupid diawl-twp people? -

SH:- Well Richard, I don't think they have read it. They've probably just seen my ridiculous TED talks and embarassing slide-shows on The Science Network -

REJ:- Or just not bothered at all. Because they thought of it when they were 6 -

SH:- Yes. Or just not bothered at all, which is a shame because it means smart people won't read it. I wrote this book, for smart people, as I live in a television with lots of coloured alerts -

REJ:- Keep going -

SH:- There is a danger, Richard, the television said, of us waking up in a world where the only people with moral certainty are people who get it from a voice in a whirlwind -

REJ:- Ooooh! What does a voice in a whirlwind sound like? -

SH:- Sandy, I think.

REJ:- How sandy? -

SH:- Quite sandy. And a bit muffled by a bin bag -

REJ:- Or a beard -

SH:- Beards, yes. But how to convince someone that water is made up of hydrogen and oxygen? It can't be done -

REJ:- I'm with you. Er...

SH:- Can you imagine the worst possible universe?

REJ:- No, I'm afraid I can't -

SH:- Well, can you imagine the worst possible rugby team? Every other rugby team would be better -

REJ:- Careful now Sammy boy -

SH:- It seems to me, that morality is reducable to the well-being of conscious creatures. Can you imagine a universe of just rocks? -

*pop!*

REJ:- You don't mind if I drink do you?

SH:- Lets see....*click!....whir!....ding!* No, go ahead. Neuroscience of the future tells us rocks are not conscious creatures. If I threw acid in a schoolgirl's face -

REJ:- Oooh! that's illegal here! Please don't be doing anything like that - you'll have Emrys the heddlu round as soon as the unmanned police station relays the message to Llandrindod and the doughnuts hit the road -

SH:- Throwing acid in schoolgirl's faces is sub-optimal for their conscious well-being. Now a lot of people I have met have told me, piously paraparroting Hume, that you can't get nought from is. But I think I can -

REJ:- I think you may have managed it -

SH:- Imagine if we discovered a tribe today, in a jungle with biting insects -

REJ:- Oooh! Do you think we will? It's not been on the newyddion -

SH:- It's on the imaginary newyddion, later today -

REJ:- I haven't got digital. Sioned said -

SH:- And the tribe has a custom of plucking out one eye from every thirteenth child, perhaps saying 'He who has one eye saves on glasses' or something -

REJ:- Good God man! They're nutters! Glasses are cheap. You can get them on the NHS -

SH:- Not in this jungle Richard, and there are biting insects too. And machetes. Imagine if you were forced to rape and kill your child. While insects were biting you -

REJ:- Market forces would render the monocular savings negligible. Supply and demand. If however, every child's eye was plucked out -

SH:- It seems to me, that you only have to grant me this one philosophical presupposition:- that if things were better, they would be better.

REJ:- No, too deep for me, Samster. I have a five year old child with me though -

SH:- Imagine if the five year old child -

REJ:- You don't mind if I smoke this reefer do you?

SH:- Just a mo, *click!....whir!....ding!* I'm afraid I do -

REJ:- Well never mind. *click!...fire!....inhale!*

SH:- Now it's important to remember what I don't mean. I don't mean that zero-sum moral problems can be solved. I don't mean that intractable moral problems can be solved. I don't mean that any moral problems can be solved. But what I do mean is that all the moral problems that can't be solved, can be solved in principle. I just need a few extra cogs -

REJ:- Well then you're onto something after all. And to think Sioned said you had gone messiah-bananas. And just done it because you were jealous of religous people and their absolute morality. And that you were too dull to notice right and wrong is known universally by non-socio/psychopaths as sure as up from down. And that your silly abacus couldn't even do an abortion date. Or a war that might affect an abortion date. And that it was the cleverest and most deeply thought out net-zero book in history. And that you had obviously overreached and gone -

SH:- I can do them in principle. In the future.

REJ:- But we can try now. With made-up data. You can't do diddly -

SH:- I can do diddly in the future. In principle. With just a few extra cogs and a time-machine, and -

REJ:- Nawrte Sam. Your book was building up nicely to a concluding chapter. 'The future of happiness'. But you ran out of skill. I remember when super Shane was hareing down the touchline and -

SH:- I just want every conscious creature to flourish! to self-actualise! Even juggled bears! Is that too much to reduce to insanity? In principle? Is it? Well is it? I don't think so. And that is why I wrote this book. Do you like my pacing? -

REJ:- Yes. A constipated caged tiger is endearing. But back to your fluffing the last chapter -

SH:- Was it my diction?

REJ:- No, I enjoyed both tones. If you remember Blackburn's criticism of you, criticism #376, he said that neuro-scientifically identical brains were not the same if one was living in a fool's paradise. That's because he's as stupid as you.

SH:- He must be clever -

REJ:- Yes. Now if you want to have x billion conscious creatures at maximal flourishing, then you need only have x billion realities. The 'suffering' is done by zombie-minds and every non-body wins. If you say you don't want to live in a virtual reality then I don't know what you mean. And neither do you.

SH:- That's my line -

REJ:- Follow your line, Sam, follow your line. The well-being of conscious creatures. Reducable to neuroscience. Follow your line.

Merthyr pont rhondda

2011-03-15T16:18:00.000Z

Helo. Well I'm here today in the field as it were, or the town as it is, and on tour and live if you will or won't. I'm doing a little round the Wales, like that Iolo, but not as far as yr hen ogledd, which has fallen to our English friends so I'm told. Men went to Catraeth. But this man has gone to Merthyr pont rhondda, ugly-lovely success story of the 1800s, to see just how far things have progressed since full employment.

With me for the elucidations, is an ambitious young man, Dafydd Williams. Dafydd is the third generation of his family to be on the sick and never worked. But Dafydd is different. He has big plans to be the first in his family to break the chain of valium-temazepathy and sickness benefits, and to go on the dole. Croeso Dafydd! -

DW:- Diolch! -

REJ:-Indeed. Now tell me Dafydd, of your unrealistic and futile plans -

DW:- Well Richard, my father was on the sick. And his father before him. And Auntie Mair and cousin Rhys and my sister Dilys, and my butties from Cwm Llwch high, and -

REJ:- Ok, we'll rule out journalism then -

DW:- And I looked around me, and thought 'there must be better than this'. A better world for my children bach. And so I made up my mind that it wouldn't happen to me. Anymore. Not for another twenty years. So I decided there and then to try to go on the dole and become a job-seeker.

REJ:- Wel boys bach, da iawn chi isn't it? Bread on the table, bring home the cig moch, arian in the pocket, there you are, lovely tidy gwych. Yes. -

DW:- It was hard at first – there were a lot of forms to fill in, but I kept my eyes on the prize, filled them in as best I could, sent them off to pont rhondda dole office, and if I'm approved I'll get £20 less a week. Twenty pounds! -

REJ:- Fantastic! Now what are the criteria for this non-post?

DW:- I have to prove myself fit and available for work, read the classifieds, and make 2 applications a week. Or I'll get £50 less. -

REJ:- Fifty pounds! -

DW:- You have to be in it, to un-win it! -

REJ:- There's one in every family -

DW:- The lady said they'd send it off to Neath for adjudication – it should only take a few weeks – and if all goes well -

REJ:- fingers crossed! -

DW:- Diolch. If all goes well I'll be a real live job-seeker! Although they did say they've had to stop the rent while they think about it, and we're being evicted next wednesday -

REJ:- Well just think of the less money. But it hasn't all been plain-sailing has it now? A little bird tells me that you have met with some opposition to your plans. Some stormy weather one could say, some rocky reefs, some doldrum-seas, some here-be-dragons, some -

DW:- That's correct, Richard. The office of national unemployment bullshitstics. They sent me to the Abergwastad careers office, and they assessed my talents and abilities -

REJ:- And your ambitions -

DW:- Yes, and my ambitions - on their new 'dream-weaver' careers program they bought for 3 billion pounds. Then they matched me to the jobs database -

REJ:- It was harder in my day - you had to get on your unicycle, cross the mine-fields, juggle 6 bears with chain-saws, -

DW:- And they decided it would look better if I went on a macrame course for 6 months. Since there were only 3 positions in the Pontypridd front row, and they were taken.

REJ:- Beaten to the ball! Well and truly rucked!

DW:- etc

REJ:- etc. Yes. Well Jeremy Kyle's come on and so Dafydd has had to leave us. But up next, after a short perambulation, there - that was it - is Owen Gruffudd, Welsh Assembled Member for Cynon valley taffy. Now Mr Gruffudd, you've heard Dafydd's story, a man with ambition to go on the dole, and the problems he has faced. Have you got any better news for him? And his ilk?

OG:- Yes indeed I have Richard! Only first I have to send this stern letter to Mugabe, expressing our disapproval of his actions in the Welshest possible terms. -

REJ:- They'll be celebrating in the streets of Harare tonight! -

OG:- Not quite tonight, Richard, I haven't managed to put the stamp on yet. There's something about the picture on it...

REJ:- You're worth every penny! Nawrte, about the plans for our Dafydd. And his ilk -

OG:- Yes. First of all, we have successfully awarded Cynon valley taffy 'area zero' status -

REJ:- Ardderchog! - And what does that mean? -

OG:- Named after the net worth of voting in places like Cynon valley taffy, 'area zero' status means we are able to erect some blue signs. Namely two. On either exit off the A470. -

REJ:- Oooh! and what do the blue signs say? -

OG:- 'Keep going'. And 'Partially funded by the European Union' underneath.

REJ:- Is that it?

OG:- No, of course not. We have also achieved free prescriptions for temazapam and methadone, and there is an exciting plan to bull-doze the mountains on top of them, to make a park-and-ride for Cardiff. And free toothbrushes. I nearly forgot about the toothbrushes.

REJ:- They'll need re-training -

OG:- Yes, wrth gwrs. That is why we are committed to spending £10 million pounds on a national programme of toothbrushing technique education, with additional monies projected to be available from 2013. For toothpaste. That's if the tax-payers over the border aren't on to us by then -

REJ:- They're not the sharpest -

OG:- Now, now, Richard! Lets not be having any of that nonsense. At least keep it to yourself. We've got the Royal Mint you know -

REJ:- Yes. Now in the interest of balancing, I have also the gentleman very much chasing your seat, Plaid Cymru prospective assembly whatever-they're-called Welsh person, Efnisien ap Clwyd.

EapC:- Prynhawn da -

REJ:- Prynhawn da. Now Efnisien, we'll skip all the history, as that has happened, and instead ask you what you would do if you got your hands on Owen's seat -

EapC:- People like Dafydd have been abandoned by the Westminster overlords for too long. We in Plaid Cymru would set in place a package of measures - see how I do the lingo - to ensure both the opportunity and the guarantee and even the right, that he can be unemployed in Welsh. And we'll change the speed limit to Kilometers per hour. And plant some daffodils on the roundabout. And make all playing cards out of slate. And -

FIN.

On the nature of ants

2011-02-22T18:48:00.001Z

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

Poem for the day:- a fragment

2011-02-22T16:58:00.000Z

Prynhawn da. I have with me today Idris whatsisname the doctor. From a lot of blogposts ago. He of the methadone drip and giant insect fetish. Yes that's the one. Anyway he's dead now, but fortunately I can read his mind. He says that last night, or neithiwr in a more efficient language, he was eating some cheese from Caws Cenarth when he fell asleep and had a most astounding dream. When he woke up, he says, dead, he could remember some 200 lines of minestrone soup recipes. But had forgotten the dream. Apart from this fragment, which Tennyson persuaded him to publish as a 'psychological curiosity'. Take it away, Idris' necrotic mind!

The head lay anchor thought weighed down
Below the air, beneath the sound
And under drowned and all around
And spinnered glinting forth and dart
As if in spasmic morte d'art
Anenomes! the tart-pressed flowers
Coral-crusted king-crowned bowers
Swept with besom jewelled broom
- for all the sea was like a loom -
And woven threads the story told
the shuttle fish, the weft the shoaled
the carpet flew in days of old!
And shaken stormy beaten rug
Three friends the winding rock would face
Ascending weather-beaten grace
Up mothward to the spiral light
The granite beacon of the night
The mirrored torch reflect delight
And shutter'd shot the dark with flame
As if through spacetime sliced each frame
There flickered golden shadow dance
Of such exquisite ever lance
had burst the sun and speared the moon
And cast the rocks like seer's rune
Upon the blanket-rippled sky
Onwards! Onwards! was the cry!

They climbed as high and waxen-winged
Met Death awhile and lo he singed
twas frozen there, yet voices pealed
the caves of ice! the land revealed!
they saw that day the night the morn
and found contentment in forlorn
the sorrow cut the cold with warm
Their tears the tapestry did bind
And downward trod the truth on mind
the weight could not be left behind!

Now down the mountain through the mist
they saw it clearer eyes opaque
Remembered paths they'd separate take
And each horizon different saw
And each awashed on different shore
Yet could be island minds no more

The -

REJ:- Ok fuck off Idris. Being dead's no excuse. No, change your own drip. Really? A lighthouse? Well why didn't you say lighthouse? No you didn't...the what? the rocks of sin? I exhumed you for this? Diawl yffern!

Poem and debate for the day

2011-01-03T09:07:00.001Z

Bigger quales have smaller quales
Beneath them to incite 'em
You could for larks go far as quarks
But not ad infinitum.

Da iawn Gwilym. Yes. No, I don't know about the pronunciation either. Yes. You know where the door is. Nawrte boys bach, today we are indeed having a very exciting debate sort of thing. You know, like that one on the telly. No, not that one, on the other side. Now there are two sides to every coin, unless you count the other one, or count one twice, or have a peculiar coin. On my left, which is your right of course, I have none other than Deepfat Chocolatechum, the famous conscious person. And on my other left if I turn around, and look up, in the vertical direction, I have on the ceiling a hyper-caffeineated Dr. Bendious III, who is dead, and not like that other one at all, so he says. Thank fuck for that. In the chair, is Yours Truly, although I may in fact not be. We shall see. Now first things first, Deepfat Chocolatechum, I can't be bothered to google what you actually say, so I'll just make you spout random horseshit, if that's alright with you? -

DC:- No difference to me -

REJ:- And would you like a comedy racist accent? -

DC:- Goodness gracious me no! The name's enough -

REJ:- You ok up there Dr. Bendious III? -

DrB:- Whoop! Whoop! -

REJ:- Hmmm....never mind. Well lets get this over with. Deepfat, you called 'edge' and won the toss so you're in to bat first. Can you explain to me, and the assembled kittens, just what exactly consciousness is? -

DC:- Well, not in just the one book, no. It takes many books, and lots of advances. Ten more should do it I reckon -

REJ:- I see. Well what will the tenth-from-now say? -

DC:- The same as the first. For what is 10 but a 1 with zero added? -

REJ:- Talking of over my head, Dr. Bendious! You have a different theory I presume? -

DrB:- I floated up on the bubbles! Whoop! Whoop! The bubbles! Can you see them?! The bubbles of consciousness! The bubbles of my mind! Not really there! Not real at all! Aaaaagh!!! SPIDER!!! *thud!....oooof!* -

REJ:- ffs.-

DrB:- Oooh! That's better! Yes. Now consciousness is an illusion, you see, or rather don't you see you see you don't, don't you? - it's like a car and driver. Yes that's it. A car with an imaginary driver. Or drivers. Or part-drivers. If you crash, or put a spanner in the -

DC:- You can't say that looking through the windscreen! You need a third party perspective -

DrB:- Well I joined the AA -

REJ:- *wink!*

DC:- Nonono! Normal roadside assistance can't help! Only quantum mechanics can make it drive -

DrB:- But are there no quantum mechanics when there's only a part-driver? Or no driver? Or multiple drivers? Do the mechanics only appear when -

REJ:- Quick Deepfat! - say 'woo!'

DC:- woo! -

REJ:- Bit louder! -

DC:- WOOOOOOOOOOO!

REJ:- That's better! -

Dr.B:- And if you put a self or selfs in an Mri or otherwise interfere -

DC:- Woo

Dr.B:- Quantum mechanics at car level cannot be at play other than as it is, which is of no net influence. If you consider -

DC:- Woo.

Dr.B. - Woo?! You can't just keep saying woo and make millions! That would be absurd. There can be no ghost in the machine. That's why no-one has ever seen -

REJ:- Oooh! I must keep order, and absolute impartiality. And facilitate progression of the discussion. Not least because it's darts tonight, and the Lamb and Flag ladies reserves are playing the Crown for the division 3 title. They'll all be wearing new tops! A few of the boys had a whip-round and Rhodri-threads is making them all two sizes too tight! Gwladys-the-bike 2 legs adrift going for Shanghai with the first two in the bed and trying to pull off her double-top for the come-from-behind win!

Dr.B:- wibble

DC:- wibble

REJ:- Narwte, sense now boys. Dr. Bendious III. You must admit that ghosts, if we know anything about them at all, would, if they said anything, say 'woo!'. You're going to have to counter that if you want to impress this thinker. -

DC:- What time was the darts? -

REJ:- Half past nine -

DC& Dr.B:- Da iawn -

DC:- Hurrying along, as I've always argued for preciseness and concision in discussions on consciousness, I say to you, that I can quite clearly see myself in the vanity mirror. And so can you. And we can see each other and corroborate the evidence. Thus it's pretty clear, prettier in my case, that consciousness does exist. It would be hard to see how you could assert that was an illusion. Although that is what it would look like. I think I've got you there. -

Dr.B:- Yes good point, Deepfat. If we had any evidence we were riddled with perceptional illusions, my case would be stronger. What's the time now? -

REJ:- Nine o'r gloch! Shift your arse Deepfat! -

DC:- It's zombie-boy holding us up -

REJ:- Wind it up deado! Real or not, they'll be bending over the oche! -

Dr.B:- It will be just like the real thing!

DC:- Can I offer you a draw?! -

Dr.B:- No thanks, I've got the win. Btw, I think the kittens may have noticed your true third-party perspective demands curiously seem not to apply to your own -

REJ:- Third-party, fire and theft! -

Dr.B:- ...as if that would be you arguing against yourself all along -

DC:- I would have to have a self to do that! You contradict yourself again. -

Dr.B:- Not-I have noself to contradict! -

REJ:- Fuck it, I'm not staying for crosswords. I'm off to watch the athletes -

*creak....slam!*

DC:- I meant one has to be internally consistent -

REJ:- lol!, I heard that! -

DC:- Pardon? -

REJ:- What?! -

DC:- PARDON?! -

REJ:- I SAID L-O-L!, I HEARD THAT! I'LL GET THE BEERS IN! -

DC:- None for me thanks, it doesn't affect me -

Dr.B:- He won't have heard that, but have this tea instead. -

DC:- Why, thankyou. Goodness....real ghosts. I didn't have to make it up after all. Now, where am I? Ah, yes. I ask the driver in front. We check each other in the mirror. You can't get out of the car you know. -

Dr.B:- I ask him too! But he gets the directions wrong. We both know that -

DC:- Something's wrong with my Satnav.....have you got any de-mister? -

Dr.B:- Put your wipers on -

DC:- They only work outside....the dual controls should be fine....er...-

Dr.B:- You should resign now really, but you can have the mating if you prefer -

DC:- We could send off for adjudication -

Dr.B:- Oooh, but you'll never learn the endgame! You'll flounder like a 1980's supercomputer -

DC:- Computers can't mind, and they never will. In his seminal fluid, 'The Emperor's mathephysician's new guess at Biology', - that you just wasted a week of your death wading through the clunky staccato prose thereof within, as if ironically ghost-written by a 2-bit chatbot – Roger Penfold says he doesn't know what it is, but it certainly isn't what it is. -

Dr.B:- And he puts an annoying exclamation mark whenever he thinks he's said something clever! -

DC:- It can be annoying! -

Dr.B:- Almost patronising!! -

DC:- Although I notice you haven't made one, and with all the processing power available to today's computers, one should expect the equal of a wasp brain to be achievable very soon. And wasps can count to four. In the mornings. -

Dr.B:- Impressive. Brains are clearly a very efficient design, and conscious calculation the pinnacle of evolution. -

DC:- I believe you were offering to mate me -

Dr.B:- Do some desperate moves first, a dead mouse is less fun -

DC:- If you have a cat-in-a-box made of wavicles with two slits for eyes, you can't tell if it's shat or not until you check the litter tray. This means consciousness creates reality. Although it works with an unconscious observer. But the unconscious observer is checked by a conscious one, so it still counts. Unless you're right. I hope I'm not being circular like Descartes. Or it's shat in one universe, but not in another. It depends which book I'm on, but it's highly relevant if I forget what you said earlier, and usually does the trick. Aren't cuttlefish strange? -

Dr.B:- Your car has the larger turning circle and I could shave you like Occam for a parsimony win. -

DC:- That's no mate! I'll take the draw on time – we'll miss the darts! -

Dr.B:- But of course I'm toying with you. Just a little finesse and I'll show you how to break the circle without getting out of the car -

DC:- Well that's your 'STOP' warning light very much on. As that's impossible, I'm off down the rub-a-dub too. On this giant lobster! Woo hoo! I won't fall down the stairs with all these legs! -

Dr.B:- Put your hazard lights on -

DC:- No need! No need at all! I shouldn't feel a thing if you're right! I'll only feel I feel a thing, and that won't hurt at all. Weeeeeeeee!

*ooof! shit!* aiiiiieeee! my lobster legs!...the darts! -

Dr.B:- There are four main states of unconsciousness. Inanimate, non-REM, REM and awake -

DC:- It huuuuuurrrts! Turn it off if it's an illusion! -

Dr.B:- I'm afraid I'm not that kind of doctor. I'm a made-up one. Turn off yourself with this book on material meditations. We find all Self-components similarly optional by design, or by accident -

DC:- A trivial truism. But who or what is being deluded? And how can you know? - that is the hard problem -

Dr.B:- The limits of epistemology are the same for external reality. Your nested circularities evaporate on starting from non-self. You can know this awake, just not believe it. Starting with presupposed self like Descartes is obviously futile. Any starting point on your circle should be equally valid if it were true. However, starting at any point other than Self you can't get back around to it. If you like, make the circle an infinite line, a road perhaps. The instruments say either the road, or the driver is illusory. But the road can crash the driver, the driver can't crash the road. -

DC:- If that were true, reality at the level of Self could be engineered! -

Dr.B:- Ok, time for darts.

BBC Wogan in need 2010

2010-11-19T10:32:00.000Z

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

2010-11-08T10:08:00.000Z

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

2010-11-07T11:23:00.000Z

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

2010-11-05T10:10:00.000Z

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

2010-11-01T14:20:00.000Z

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

2010-10-11T09:17:00.000+01:00

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.

2010-10-08T10:08:00.000+01:00

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.

2010-09-10T17:29:00.000+01:00

.....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.

2010-09-09T17:57:00.001+01:00

....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.

2010-09-05T06:02:00.000+01:00

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.

2010-09-04T22:05:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-22T14:16:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-22T14:11:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-18T13:49:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-16T20:59:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-15T16:27:00.001+01:00

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

2010-08-15T15:39:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-13T06:10:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-10T14:48:00.001+01:00

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

2010-08-10T13:07:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-07T01:35:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-06T10:26:00.000+01:00

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

2010-08-05T17:00:00.000+01:00

...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

2010-08-03T22:21:00.000+01:00

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

2010-07-30T19:49:00.000+01:00

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.

A brief history of mime.

2010-07-28T11:39:00.000+01:00

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REJ:- Sioned! It's just not going to work!

Bore da pawb! That is the last and only time I listen to Sioned's suggestuals. Pardon her me? - ok the second last time. That looks a heavy sosban if you get my meaning. But enough of conjugal bliss and ticklings - heddiw we have a very exciting visiguest in our midst - a man you very well might have indeed have heard of, although I can't do his font yet. However, if I could it would look like that computer data one from the decade that Wales forgot, - the 1980s.

Sioned informs me that my interviews have become somewhat of the erratic and has created for my enreadment and enunciment a handy list of questions for the universal application of. These are the questions the Merched y Wawr want to hear asked, and then answered, as they do their close-harmony knitting and Methodist jam-stirring. She says. So without further to do may I lead the choir in batonning a hewge-massive Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun croeso to Mr Professor Stephen Hawkings!

REJ:- Mr Professor Hawkings! Croeso indeed warmly, and before we get to Sioned's questions, I have been doing my own research in conjunctivitis, using the interwiki mobilenet down my dongle. It says there here that you were the George Lucas professor of mathemagics at Cambridge Polyversity, and that you were given the same chair as the man on the banknotes! Sir Isaac of Newtown!

SH:- H-a-w-k-i-n-g.

REJ:- Yes that's right professor Ditchkins! And indeed to goodness me, if it isn't a most marvellous chair too. Sir Isaac must have been a veritable whizz with the 'lectrics - it's better even than Nancy Price Brynheulog's -

SH:- H-a-w-k-i-n-g. I- h-a-v-e- n-e-u-r-o-m-u-s-c-u-l-a-r d-y-s-t-r-o-p-h-y-. T-h-e- c-h-a-i-r- -

REJ:- Well what doesn't kill you makes you stronger my Auntie Bethan always says -

SH:- I-'d- l-i-k-e- t-o- s-p-e-a-k- t-o- S-i-o-n-e-d- p-l-e-a-s-e- -

REJ:- Duw! Well you're a fast one Jim Hawkings aren't you boy?! The stairs got you all warmed up lovely I can see. Sioned has gone down Glyn-the-milk's again, although we've 4 pints in the fridge already! Not too bright is our Sioned I'm afraid - that's three times this week. She won't be back for a while as she goes to the launderette afterwards. I wonder what clothes she'll forget this time! hahahahaha! Diawl twpsyn!

SH:- N-o- l-i-g-h-t- e-s-c-a-p-e-s- f-r-o-m- y-o-u- -

REJ:- Now,now, boys bach chwarae teg! Let's have none of your science, this is a respectable house. What would the Parch drink if he could hear you now? To Sioned's questions without delay! I'll just draw one by random reach out of the flower-pot...aha! 'Can you please give us your favourite impersonations'. -

SH:- I- d-o-n-'t- f-e-e-l- w-e-l-l- -

REJ:- John F Kennedy! no...John Lennon!...no wait!....Arch duke Ferdinand...oooh no - you would have done the accent...

SH:- I-'v-e l-o-s-t- t-h-e- w-i-l-l- t-o- l-i-v-e- -

REJ:- Kurt Cobain!...Ernest Hemingway....er...Sylvia Plath....nod if I'm getting warm...

SH:- Y-e-s- i-t- w-a-s- S-y-l-v-i-a- P-l-a-t-h-. P-l-e-a-s-e- c-a-n- I- go- now-

REJ:- I knew it! I just knew it! It was the sixth thing I thought of! Let's have another one....ooooh...da iawn Sioned!....'Which is your favourite Dr.Who baddie?' - I think I can guess this one! -

SH:- T-h-e- M-a-s-t-e-r-. P-a-r-t-i-c-u-l-a-r-l-y- a-s- p-l-a-y-e-d- b-y- R-o-g-e-r- D-e-l-g-a-d-o- u-p- u-n-t-i-l- h-i-s- u-n-t-i-m-e-l-y- d-e-a-t-h- i-n- 1-9-7-3-. I- t-h-o-u-g-h-t- h-i-s- c-h-a-r-a-c-t-e-r- -

REJ:- Davros!!! Oooh! you are a good sport! I knew it was Davros! -

SH:- I- s-a-i-d- T-h-e- M-a-s-t-e-r- y-o-u- -

REJ:- Yes indeed you did! And your tone hardly changed although I could tell you share my hwyl, my enthusiasm! Davros - the master of the Daleks! And to think Sioned said we would have nothing in common. Yet here we are getting on like a Snowdonia holiday home and the Meibion Glyndwr!

SH:- C-a-n-'t......f-i-n-d-.......r-e-v-e-r-s-e-......-

REJ:- And like I said - what a good sport - chwarae teg! You can't trust what these female-types say can you? Men are from Cnwch-y-Craig, Women are from Eglwyswrw! a truer words was never said. 'Don't ask him to do wheelies...don't ask him to burn donuts in the carpet...for Chris'sake don't mention it's the most unread best-seller since The Bible' - nag nag nag! 'Read some Physics you complete...'. Duw! she's a fiery lady -

SH:- R-e-d- b-u-t-t-o-n-....m-u-s-t-...f-i-n-d...-

REJ:- No time for interactive TV my quadra-coastered friend! In fact we must pressforth the fickle finger of flowerpot fumbling fate to the final question.....aha! - here it is...I have in my hand a piece of paper...

SH:- P-l-e-a-s-e- G-o-d-...i-f- y-o-u- c-a-n- h-e-a-r- m-e-...I- w-a-s- w-r-o-n-g-...

REJ:- Hishhhht now 'ychan! I've got to concentrate for this one -

SH:- P-l-e-a-s-e- G-o-d-...t-h-e- r-e-d- b-u-t-t-o-n-....l-e-t- m-y- f-i-n-g-e-r-s- m-o-v-e- a-g-a-i-n- -

REJ:- Duw! What a mumbler! Ok here we go - are you sitting comfortably? Ooops! - silly me!

*click!*

SH:- a-h!-

REJ:- 'The existence of gravitational singularities in spacetime are generic features of general relativity, and any blackhole is fully described by the three properties of mass, angular momentum and electric charge. - So far so good! - da iawn Sioned!. - Gamma ray emissions show that after the Big Bang, primordial blackholes form according to four laws of mechanics and thermally create and emit subatomic particles until they exhaust their energy and evaporate. - Oooh I wish she'd get to the point! - If the universe has no boundary in spacetime it is not necessarily closed, indeed by analysis of Big Bang universes, large N cosmology,Yang-Mills instantons and the S-matrix in conjunction with Euclidean quantum gravity I believe I have been able to derive a universal theory of everything...' - Well well boys bach! How about that then? Hasn't she been studying hard with the OU my blodyn! No wonder she comes back from Glyn's so tired! The next bit is too technical for me I'm afraid...lots of squiggles and numbers you know - sums I suppose! And a big 'Grand Unifying Theory of everything' underlined at the end! You wouldn't want to read it would you? -

SH:- S-h-i-t...

....*BOOOOOOOM!*....

Song for the day.

2010-07-27T21:06:00.000+01:00

'There are gold ships and there are silver ships, but the best ships are professorships'. So said once the chairless tired man. 'But could he not have sat upon the ground, or a resting hog?' I hear you ask. Well we shall never know, because the ground keeps it's secrets close to it's chest, like Meinir Thomas for minutes after darts down the legion, and a resting hog should never be disturbed - a local by-law in Abercreuddyn as it happens, after the unfortunate hi-jinks of the Llanfihangel-yr-arth young farmer's barn dance and would-be improvised hog-roast. Basted lovely it was.

But as ever and always, I concern myself only with matters of consequence. If this mirror I see before me is to be believed, then I am here once more in person, albeit with the top of my head missing. And scratching the ear that isn't itching for some reason. Behind my auricular protuberance though, the itchy one....no wait! - the other one...that's it! is my special invitee of today that is the songsmith Jimmy 'smiler' Jones. And if I turn around quickly enough....Iesu mawr! indeed it is himself correctly orientated.

REJ:- Jimmy 'smiler' Jones! You have a song for us rwy'n credu.

JSJ:- It's rather more than a song, Richard. It's a philosophy. It's a -

REJ:- Tidy lovely! Let's be having it then! Spark up the vuvuzela!

JSJ:- I won't be doing the tune Richard, because you don't know how to upload audio files.

REJ:- Perhaps I do know Jimmy, perhaps I just don't want to...perhaps -

JSJ:- Do you know?

REJ:- Let's be having a text-song then! A good old-fashioned text-song around the compiwter! Just like mam used to type. You tell us what it would have sounded like.

JSJ:- Well I'm told I sound like the love-child of Leonard Cohen and Johnny Cash. And the tune has been called 'poignant-mournful'. And it looks like it doesn't scan, but I do that thing like that other singer I've forgotten does whereby he squeezes-more-words-into-a-long-line-but-it-seems-to-work-somehow. And -

REJ:- SIONED! - the trapdoor's stuck again! Sorry Jimmy - don't mind me...you carry on g'boy...SIONED! can you fetch me the olew plis?

JSJ:- Sigh.

REJ:- Oooh! the sigh of Jeff Buckley at the start of Hallelujah! - keep going! -

JSJ:- 'Everywhere you ever go...you'll always hear the sound....of children crying...
No matter if there's no more war...or plague or famine....we're all still dying....
And everything you ever do or did or ever could be done....will one day all be gone...
And so the Earth, the moon the stars at night, the Sun...

Now everyone you've ever met or ever will... is dying too....
Immortality it seems...is quite a tricky thing to do...
And even if they find it you can bet your life...it's not for me and you...
Now hold me close...take a deep breath...look in my eyes....there's nothing we can do.'

'But worse than this the horror of...AAAAAAAAAARGRHHGHRGRHGGHHH!!!

REJ:- Da iawn Sioned! I told you to keep it oiled. Well-oiled as the Parch I said isn't it wasn't it

The big country and the umbrella salesman

2010-02-04T21:00:00.000Z

'Indeed to goodness Iesu mawr!!!' - Now! - how about that then boys and girls? You may be thinking that that is an extravagant opening, a flamboyant gambit like that of the famous chess pirate Fischer, an also sprach zarathustra before the entrance of Elvis Preseli, or the mono-gonadal ranting of a stray Austrian lunatic even, but no! the story I am about to relay is worthy of my ejaculation. Just 8 weeks ago GMT, fate found myself in southern Californ-i-a at the intrastately famous Talbot school of Feelology, Biola University. Well boys bach, if it wasn't just a short drive from beautiful beaches, world-renowned entertainment venues and a wealth of diverse cultural opportunity, then I don't know what it was a short drive from. It matters not - for there it was, and there was I - at the same there - and there I met none other than the greatly self-esteemed research professor of feelology and umbrella salesman, Doctor doctor William Lane Craig:-

REJ:- Doctor doctor William Lane Craig!

WLC:- Richard Emmanuel Jones! An honour to meet me!

REJ:- Yes indeed I'm sure you said that. er....excuse me...

WLC:- I'm sorry what? -

REJ:- Just a bit more...a bit to the left...

WLC:- Is that alright? -

REJ:- Bit more..

WLC:- How about now?

REJ:- That's it! Diolch! Your teeth were scaring the fish that's all. I shouldn't bring my aquarium with me really -

WLC:- Well they do look kinda heavy Richard -

REJ:- Indeed they are! But I have broad shoal-ders!

WLC:- Aren't they a bit heavy Richard? You could put them down on the table there -

REJ:- Yes I could Doctor doctor and diolch to you indeed isn't it? but as I said, I have brrrroad shoal-ders!

WLC:- Well if you put them on the table -

REJ:- You're smiling, you got it didn't you? they said you were clever, a double doctor no less. So good they doctored him twice! Shoal-ders! It's just my little joke doctor doctor...

WLC:- Please, call me Billy -

REJ:- Just a minute then Doctor doctor Billy - *CLUNK!* - Ooopsadaisy! I'm afraid I sloshed a bit onto your monogrammatic bath/spa robe and bamboo blend towel -

WLC:- $21.98! -

REJ:- $21.98 yes. You've been had. They're epileptic you know, the fish. Fine underwater though - that's the funny thing.....anyway the towels are trying to tell us something aren't they? 'Reasonable Faith' is the legend they bear. Now can you tell me a bit about this 'Reasonable Faith' shop? You are the creator I believe?

WLC:- Well Richard, A simple statement of the argument might run:

1. Anything that exists has an explanation of its existence (either in the necessity of its own nature or in an external cause).

2. If the Reasonable Faith shop has an explanation of its existence, that explanation is William Lane Craig.

3. The Reasonable Faith shop exists.

4. Therefore the explanation of the existence of the Reasonable Faith shop is William Lane Craig.

REJ:- So it's your shop then is it? -

WLC:- Let me just read that back a moment......explanation......shop......er.....Lane Craig......yes I think so. How about this 'Port authority' 2-tone brushed twill baseball cap $4.98?

REJ:- But they're only 3 dollars in Walmart -

WLC:- Not really Richard! -

REJ:- Pardon you me?

WLC:- Not really. You are committing the naturalistic fallacy -

REJ:- Oooh really? I wasn't even trying! Wait until Sioned hears how clever I am - it must be you rubbing off on me....

WLC:- I'm afraid it's an error Richard. Are baseball caps $4.98 or $3.00? When we ask that question, we are posing in a provocative way the meta-ethical question of the objectivity of baseball cap values. Are they valid independently of our apprehension of them, and if so, what is their foundation? Moreover the objective worthlessness of baseball caps in a naturalistic world view is underscored by two implications of that world view:- materialism and determinism -

REJ:- I'll take two if you stop -

WLC:- 37659 of our customers who bought the 'Port authority' 2-tone brushed twill baseball cap $4.98 also purchased the 100% Pima cotton sport shirt at just $19.98...that's right! just $19.98....

REJ:- Does it come in red?

WLC:- It certainly does Richard! and if you buy three 100% Pima cotton sport shirts at just $19.98, we at Reasonable Faith will give you this Port & Company over-the-Shoulder Grocery Tote valued objectively at $5.58 for just $5.50! That's right Richard! just $5.50! - plus taxes.

REJ:- I'd be a fool to refuse!

WLC:- You certainly are!

REJ:- Now we seem to have got side-tracked, Doctor doctor Billy. Do you do sunglasses by the way? Only your teeth have melted this pair -

WLC:- Well Richard, the case for whether or not Reasonable Faith sunglasses exist is a cumulative one. The manifestation of the Reasonable Faith sunglasses and the empty warehouse are multiply and independently attested. The claim here is not the naive assertion that because these events are mentioned in more than one company document they thereby enjoy multiple independent attestation, rather as I stated in my recent debate with the IRS -

REJ:- Have you got any?

WLC:- $9.99. And Richard, how about a District Threads® - Ladies Tank with built-in-bra for your wife - just $11.00 yes! just $11.00! Take a look at this ladies wear catalogue...

REJ:- My goodness.....those are tight tops...and what a smashing pair of models. A bit different from Gwladys the bike - still it's all relative I suppose - one man's meat is another man's wife -

WLC:- It certainly isn't! You have committed the genetic fallacy -

REJ:- I just crossed my legs -

WLC:- No Richard! The genetic fallacy is committed whenever someone tries to invalidate a view by explaining how that view originated or came to be held. Your example of the aesthetic value beauty is a perfect illustration of my point. Suppose we agree for the sake of argument that evolution has programmed men to see young women as more beautiful than old Gwladys the bike because of the selective advantage to the species of mating with younger women. Does that do anything at all to show that younger women are not in fact generally more physically beautiful than old Gwladys, that there is no objective difference between beauty and ugliness? Obviously not! Objective aesthetic values can exist regardless of how we come to apprehend them.

REJ:- Well I'm afraid I don't speak American, but I'd certainly like to apprehend....I mean I'd like to ask....Oooh! I know this one! I'm begging the question! I've been caught doing that before....One night down the park after darts, Meinir Thomas....

WLC:-Your question evinces some misunderstanding. So before I address your question directly, let me clarify what I said. First, God’s existing necessarily is not related to His being all-powerful, all-knowing, and morally perfect, at least in any direct way. For God to be logically necessary He simply needs to exist in every logically possible world; indeed, to say that God is logically necessary just is to say that He exists in every possible world. Now, of course, since the attributes you mention are essential to God, it follows that He will -

REJ:- Ok Billy-boy. You just talk out your arse and sell shit don't you? If I buy 6 Signature® - Sueded Finish 1/4-Zip Sweatshirts -

WLC:- $27.98! -

REJ:- $27.98 - will you untie me? Only you've made the fish suicidal listening to your horseshit. Three have drowned themselves already...

Poem for the day

2010-02-04T20:41:00.000Z

Well today's poem for the day I have no idea about other than it was sent in by young Rhys Jenkins of Cnwch-y-craig. There is in factuality a note attached - here - yes. Well that explains it. I'm not really very internetual and don't know a way of electrically enpublishing young Jenkins'(of GCSE physics grade 'B' fame) explanatory note, which is a shame because it's only two sentences. I'm afraid I'll have to just type the verse, which rhymes I'm glad to see, and leave it to yourselves to do the fathoming.

The reverend claimed the universe
For life could not be fitter
But somehow God has made it worse
Than an Einstein de-Sitter.

Croeso nol i fi

2010-02-04T18:59:00.000Z

Good evening da to pawb! I have been away yes indeed, on a holiday tour of the United America of States no less. Sioned is a bit cross with me as I had said I was only popping out to Mair's for some milk - but Duw! it's a bigger country than I thought. The milk excuse worked tidylovely for the 1976 trip to Parc des princes - 19-13 the boys won the Grand Slam - and 7 days later my blodyn was very happy to see me back - though I hadn't brought the milk - Glyn the fags the radiographer had dropped that off you see, very kind although he spilt some on the sofa, and Sioned had got through the entire backlog of my underpant washing after only 5 days, and her nails were already regrowing. If Dai televison hadn't said about the match being in the Arms park I would still have both retinas attached. Two months though is 'pushing it' I am respectfully informed from the base of a sosban. Dim problem - I didn't get to my age without knowing a thing or two about the Venutian mind! A short excursion to Synod Inn and the all-night garage for some Terry's all gold and a handy windscreen ice-scraper, and good relations will be restored. But enough of romance! I have tales to tell and stories to recount and anecdotes to detain and infolight....to the electric type-poster!

A visit from the doctor - Dr. William Dembskijones.

2009-11-22T19:29:00.000Z

Beneath the sheets of Cnwch-y-craig, above the mattress of Llangoedmawr, west of the stain of Bryn-y-mynach, the Discovering Institute lies continually, and therefrom today we reap a very special and important thinker-harvest - the pioneer scout ranger master debater of the local no-IDer movement, extinguished feelogian and mathemagician, Dr. William Dembskijones. Dr. William Dembskijones began life as a fully-formed adult. One thing he certainly did not do is grow gradually from less complex beginnings. He struggled for quite a while to get a job at our very own Glanwern college, being rejected at first, but in the end after years of trying, he finally failed. However, like a catbutnotliketoast he certainly somehow landed the right way up on his feet and smelling of rosehips and now drives a P reg Ford Escort Ghia Deluxe Sedan. Where did I go wrong?

Now today is even the more exciting for the introduction of our new interactive electric text phone live debate chat feature. Listeners and readers alike will be enabled to - if Sioned has it right - submit their own questions to Dr. Dembskijones from their MPpodplayers. This is a first for Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun, and almost certainly a last too as Glenys the baps says the text-mast makes her children eat cheese erratically, and she wields a certain influence over Councillor Phillips. What's that Sioned? Two influences? Beth? Never mind....

REJ:- Dr. Dembskijones! A very warm Llanfihangel-y-creuddun croeso to you indeed!

WD:- Thankyou very much.

REJ:- Now Dr. Dembskijones - before we go to the text lines - could you just quickly explain to us what exactly a mathemagician is?

WD:- Certainly Richard. A mathemagician is an expert in a very special variant of the discipline known as mathematics. I like to call what I do Mathemagics -

REJ:- Mathemagics?

WD:- Yes Mathemagics. Don't be embarassed - I often have to explain. Basically Mathemagics is mathematics that noone else can follow, that noone else can see -

REJ:- You mean like invisible?

WD:- Yes! That's it! Oh you're much quicker than that Shallit fool! Yes I'll give you an example:- What is 1 divided by 3?

REJ:- I'm afraid I don't have my difference engine in this room -

WD:- *whisper* say 'a third!' -

REJ:- *whisper* a third! -

WD:- Pardon?

REJ:- A third! Is it a third?

WD:- WRONG!!!

REJ:- But you said -

WD:- Wrong! one point to me! You gave the typical blinkered answer propagandised so successfully by the mathematics community. 1 divided by 3 is 1.

REJ:- I did?....it is?.....wha -

WD:- In Mathemagics 1 divided by 3 is 1 - You know - like three persons but one essence. Now in information theory, specified complexity -

REJ:- Yes. Indeed. No - what? er - I think we'd best be getting along to those text lines...SIONED! - IS IT WORKING?

Sioned:- YES! YOU'VE HAD THREE TEXTS ALREADY!

REJ:- Good God! PUT THE PHONE DOWN IF IT GETS TOO HEAVY LOVE!

Sioned:- WHAT?

REJ:- Hang on a minute....I know! TEXT THEM THROUGH TO MY PHONE!

WD:- Hum te hum....dum de dum....Jerry Coyne is Herman Munster...tee de hee...ho..de ho...

REJ:- That's it Willie! Singsong while we're waiting...I'll just stand on one leg by the window to get a signal......*Beep!* Oooh! got one! Ready?

WD:- Ready!

REJ:- William Dembskijones....Would you like a competitive cash loan? refused elsewhere? credit history no problem...Oh -

WD:- Well Richard, I've gotten used to this kind of vitriolic personal attack from the neo-Darwinist fascists, but the short answer is no, I don't think it's a violation of the establishment clause of the first amendment to the U.S. constitution.

REJ:- Er - yes - let's have another one...Here's one from Sir Allan of W:- Dear William Dembskijones, in the Kitzmiller vs Dover area school trial, Judge John Jones - no relation! -

WD:- No species are related! -

REJ:- er...Judge John Jones wrote 139 pages saying you were wrong. What do you say to this?

WD:- Well Richard you may know I invented amongst other things, the law of conservation of information. This is an absolute, unbreakable law - and I should know because I'm the one that made it up. So basically, no! he didn't. There is no way that more than one page of information could have been written.

REJ:- Is that true?

WD:- I cannot lie.

REJ:- Well what did the Judge say when you told him that?

WD:- Unfortunately I could't be there to crush him with my superior intellect as a Darwinist saboteur had turned my satnav upside down, and the law of upsidedownsatnavs states quite clearly -

REJ:- Let's take another one! Oooh! One from Dr.Laurie Fraser of Buggermaroo university, luckyland. 'Dear William Dembskijones, How many Intelligent Design papers published for peer-review have there been to date? You lot are nothing but...- er yes that's the end of the question -

WD:- Well that's an easy one. The answer's zero!

REJ:- Zero? Hang on a minute...in mathemagics zero is really lots yes?

WD:- No. It's zero Richard - that's why it's called zero -

REJ:- But -

WD:- This is another common misconception, Richard - don't feel that you are alone! The law of conservationofpeerreview clearly states that without exception, if there is an exception, then that exception is excepted. Now as an - if I may be so modest - exceptional person of great and crucial insight, I am indeed peerless. And so peer review is impossible. Well I do have one peer actually - onethree peers...

REJ:- You mean God?!

WD:- Not necessarily God! I didn't say that! It could be aliens. But yes, God.

REJ:- Hmmmm. Well we've one more text - the interest has been underwhelming. It's from Polygenetomathic pyrobrum Dr. Steve 'the hat' Zara, and he's texted the rather cryptogrammic 'Ha ha ha! Bee Hee Hee! Irreducible Com-plex-it-y!' - does that mean anything to you?

WD:- Indeed it does. It means I am right. When opponents stoop to such childish mockery I think their argument is lost for all to see. He probably looks like Herman Munster. With a hat. I bet he's flatulent too like that 'Judge'. There's only one that can judge me, Richard. I think I'll do a cartoon for my blog. And troll some Darwinismist sites. And -

REJ:- Careful Dembskijones! Watch out for that wedge! Don't step -

WD:- Wha wha - What wedge? There's no wedge! What do you mean? -

REJ:- Oh that was little Ethan Emmanuel Jones! Quite the mischief maker! He took apart the mousetraps we set for a certain biscuit burglar - and do you know what? He's made 7 of incrementally increasing complexity - that's what he said - Look! that one's just the snappy bit -

WD:- Well, forgive me if I correct the little....person, but the law of unincrementallyincreasingcomplexitymousetraps clearly states - *SNAP!!!* JESUS H CHRIST!!! the little fucker! I'll have him!!! I made up a law! a fucking law! Not a guideline! My toes! my toes!...etc

Prayer for the day

2009-11-19T10:38:00.000Z

Y Parch Hosanhir has asked my good self to enpublish an exhaustion list of prayery to uplift and ennoble the youngsters of the villages and to prevent blindness. But I think one should be enough for now. And here is that one for now, a bedtime prayer for boys:-

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John
Bless the bed that I lie on
And if I die before I wake
Please get my hand off my trouser-snake.

Words of wisdom Parch, words of wisdom. Yes.

A regrettable holiday to Dinbych-y-pysgod and back and the teletubbies.

2009-11-18T17:47:00.000Z

Bore da pawb! I have regrettably been away on a little holiday to Dinbych-y-pysgod and back. Less on that later. Now many people haved lived and died in llanfihangel-y-Creuddun. In fact so far everyone's died - it's quite an unlucky town in that respect. Of the four thousand two hundred remaining residents, the vast majority are alive and ill but they do have one other thing in common. And that is that they are not farmers - unlike I seamlessly linkly say today's front-room guest Mistar Ifor ap Jones, Glanwern, who farms at Glanwern farm and is as we say in these parts, a farmer.

REJ:- Jones Glanwern!

IJG:- Richard Emmanuel Jones! Duw, we've got the same surname. I must buy a lottery ticket. I'll call you Richard -

REJ:- Please do -

IJG:- And I'll call me Jones Glanwern. You can too -

REJ:- Indeed. Good, that's settled then. Now Ifor, you are as we say in these parts are you not a farmer you are aren't you isn't it?

IJG:- Well almost right Richard, the actual word is custodianofthecountryside -

REJ:- Oooh that's quite an impressive word there Ifor -

IJG:- Diolch! but it's the NFU's word not mine, chwarae teg -

REJ:- Credit where credit's due fairplay chwarae teg -

IJG:- And can you tell me Ifor what exactly a custodianofthecountryside actually does?

REJ:- er - you're in my chair -

IJG:- Sorry -

REJ:- That's alright. And can you tell me Ifor what exactly a custodianofthecountryside actually does?

IJG:- Indeed I can.

REJ:- Well would you please?

IJG:- Well at the moment Richard, but not this exact moment - I'm mostly just talking now - I am planting hedges. Two rows of Radnorshire weave, one metre apart, two metres high, twelve hectares a -

REJ:- Planting hedges...

IJG:- Hedges, yes. You know what hedges are Richard don't you? The stitching in the patchwork, the -

REJ:- Why to good God are you planting hedges?

IJG:- Well fifty thousand reasons really! -

REJ:- But twenty years ago you ploughed up all your hedges. What was that in aid of?

IJG:- Well that was in aid of the two new RangeRovers - you see grants were different then -

REJ:- They were?

IJG:- Yes back then I got paid to plough the hedges up - look Richard - I know what you're thinking -

REJ:- You do?! Iesu Mawr! How do you know what I'm thinking? This is beyond! This is magic! What am I thinking now? Go on Ifor! What am I thinking? Are you one of those magic voodoo men like Derren Randi off the telly? What am I thinking now? I'll give you a clue - it goes woof! - no that's too easy, I'll think of something else - er - dammo! I can't get the blasted dog out of my head now - it was a dog you see -

IJG:- Really? I thought it was a horse -

REJ:- Oooh! close! Right number of legs....a tail....two eyes...a mout -

IJG:- Yes. One in the eye for Dr. Blackmore eh? Anyway we were talking about windfarms -

REJ:- Oooh! You mean talking in our minds don't you? mind-talking!......let me see.......windfarms......windfarms.....Sioned's pants......Glenys the baps.....windfarms?......ah!.....Glenys the baps.....Teletubbies! Yes! I was mind-thinking -

IJG:- And what a mind. Yes I get £1200 a year a prop and I've 200 so far. Do you know Richard, that's enough electricity to power 50,000 homes!

REJ:- Well we've only got 4000 -

IJG:- It's not about that Richard, it's more about making up the money I lost during footandmouth -

REJ:- How much did you lose?

IJG:- Minus a million, Richard, minus a million!

REJ:- Minus...

IJG:- Yes. Losing minus a million left me with a net +£million payout from the ministry. My whole herd was destroyed and I was forced to accept full market price -

REJ:- That must have been hard -

IJG:- Tears were rolling down my cheeks Richard, they still do whenever I think about it -

REJ:- You're shaking now -

IJG:- Well - I didn't get into farming to kill animals for money - it goes against every farmer's nature - excuse me a moment....

REJ:- Oh but you're sobbing! It sounds like you're sobbing! Poor Ifor bach! And such bad luck that your herd was the only one infected in 200 square miles! - those bubbly blisters on those poor creatures...ooooh they must have hurt!...reminded me of when little Ethan scalded his leg....when the kettle...

IJG:- Well thanks Richard, I think I should go now -

REJ:- And all the time you kept such an outwardly cheerful demeanor! Such a brave face you put on it all! -

IJG:- Well you have to try and keep the spirits up -

REJ:- And you kept singing! What was that song you kept singing? Sosban fach yn berwi ar y tan, Sosban fawr yn berwi ar y llawr! -

IJG:- I really must go, Hwyl fawr Richard, ooops I've dropped some money -

REJ:- What did that song mean again? Sosban fawr yn berwi ar a llawr.....big sospan boiling on the floor...is that right? Sioned! SIONED! What does that sospan song mean again? -

Thought for the day

2009-11-12T18:19:00.001Z

Well raise my rent! We have a new feature. Making this a triplicate, tripartite, trinitarian blogulition. I have always thought of plagiarism as the highest form of theft. And who bigger to theft from than the 'big G' Himself? Why the BBC of course! So here then starts the new enthefted feature complete with stolen title:- 'Thought for the day'. Today's thought is a prayer I think. See if you can recognise the 'influences'.

'Our absent, unnecessary, impotent, undetectable Father, who art ‘elsewhere’, creator of the damned planet, creator of the laws and constants of physics that assuredly guarantee the earth’s future destruction, the earth’s final solution, creator of the unspeakable cruelty of the natural world, creator of the sentient brains that must know the nightmare life-in-death from without by lacerating predators, from within by rasping parasites, Lord of boundless pain, misery, disease and death, your laughably flawed creations with the feeble minds you gave them in your image kill each other in interpretation of your ambiguous texts, your tinsel miracles, Lord, vomitous God, have mercy on yourself, forgive yourself, for we humanity never can, Amen'.

Poem for the day

2009-11-10T13:49:00.000Z

What do you call a donkey with three legs? - A surprisingly good darts player. I don't get it either. Now a lot of person say to me 'Richard! If you're so clever how come you can't dress yourself? Why can't you change your socks weekly, as is the local custom, whether you really need to or not? Why can't you put those bloody shelves up like you promised LAST AUGUST!!! Why can't you take the rubbish out for a change? Why can't you cook dinner? - women aren't magically born knowing how to cook dinner! Why can't you pick the children up from school? they are half yours? Why can't you take me out once in a whileisthattoomuchtoaskyoutookyourlastfattartout lotsandlotsbutnoImnotgoodenoughisthatityoubastard?!'

You've guessed who it is haven't you?! Why yes! - it's Rudyard Kipling from beyond the grave! disturbing my dreams with division of labour domestic chore political correctness gone mad! Last night he appeared in full physical manifestation and directly challenged me:-

RK:- Richard!.........RICHARD!!!

(I was pretending not to hear at first!)

RK:- Richard! I can't rest! I muffed one of my poems up! Got it all back to front sort of thing! Please can you update it in the light of the new Physics! I have chosen you! wooooooooooo!..........WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

REJ:- Yes, I heard you the first time.

Alright then, I will:-

Rudyard Kipling burning bright
Not quite rhyming through the night
What immortal symmetry
Framed thy fearful hand and eye?

Why, the immortal symmetry of four-dimensional spacetime of course!

There. That wasn't difficult was it? Now piss off.

A 'bonzer' day in Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun

2009-11-08T17:22:00.000Z

Dr. Laurie Fraser of Buggermaroo University is 70% water yet rarely freezes, and is married to a 30% metal wife, who rarely rusts. Surely matchsticks are made in heaven. Dr. Fraser is an expert in critical thinking, philosophical hermeneutics, propositional epistemology, some other things off Wikipedia, and drinking. But today he's here with his linguistical hat on, dangling rosetta corks of wisdom that swat away the flies of translatory ignorance with every shake of his once magnificently maned brain-case.

REJ:- Dr. Fraser, croeso i Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun, and I believe Sioned has a little surprise for you in the shape of a Fosters Australian lager can of embeerment. SIONED! do the honours love!

Sioned:- MAE'N YN Y FFRIJ! THERE'S A HANDLE ON THE DOOR, PULL TOWARDS -

REJ:- A-hahaha! Bit of a domestic goings on. It looks like I might have to get it -

DR.F:- Strewth Richard! I'll save you the trouble. I'd have to have a throat as dry as a dead dingo's donger to drink that piss.

REJ:- er - I'll take that as a 'dim diolch' -

DR.F:- No wuckers mate! Reckon your nan could skull a slab of that with no danger of a liquid laugh. Love yer jumbucks by the way, some real beauts.

REJ:- Indeed. um. er -

DR.F:- cssssssssssstch! I brought my own amber fluid - just incase - you having one? I don't like drinking with the flies.

REJ:- The flies yes. er - cssssssssstch! - I see you've opened it...er did Sioned go out?

DR.F:- Strewth! You're under the thumb mate! That stands out like the dog's balls.

REJ:- The dog's balls yes -

DR.F:- Listen Richard! You've got to have a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock to let a Sheila keep you from the grog - fancy a durry?

REJ:- er...Sioned says -

DR.F:- Pig's arse! I'll open a window. How about that? Cunning as a dunny rat, me. FIGJAM! mate, FIGJAM!

REJ:- er yes fig - er yes indeed. Now Dr. Fraser -

DR.F:- Call me Laurie mate! cssssssssstch! skull that, catch this ya two pot screamer! Cab sav next...Catch!

REJ:- Howzat!

DR.F:- OUT! You little ripper!

REJ:- Now Dr. Fraser Laurie, there was something you were here to talk about -

DR.F:- There was? Strewth Richard, you've got me stonkered there -

REJ:- I'm sure there was.....was it linguistics?

DR.F:- Fair suck of the sav! You duxed it mate! It was the Catholic Church!

REJ:- The Cath -

DR.F:- Richard, *-pop!-* I'm glad you reminded me - gluglugluglug - the Catholic bastard Church! As useful as tits on a bull! Worse! That Ratzi's as mean as cat's piss! grinning like a shot fox while his priests are buggering choirboys flat out like a lizard drinking -

REJ:- er I'm not sure exactly what you mean -

DR.F:- Don't come the raw prawn with me Richard! That Church should be cactus!

REJ:- Prickly? adapted to arid conditions? -

DR.F:- *-pop-* Catch! -

REJ:- The finger's raised!.....he walks!...

DR.F:- The Gabba's gone wild! -

REJ:- Ooooh let's do Geoffrey Boycott! -

DR.F:- Good line and length...pooer footwork, pooer! -

REJ:- Pressure?! That's not pressure! Having a Messerschmitt up your backside, now that's pressure! - these boys have a job to do and they're not doing it - as I once said to Curtley Ambrose -

DR.F:- And then Goochie gave his wicket away cheaply for 333...

REJ:- Eee wouldn't get in the starting line at Yorkshire -

DR.F:- That Botham never did what I told him...

REJ:- gluglugluglug - aaaaaaaah! - where were we?

DR.F:- That bastard Ratzi! Acting like he hasn't got a brass razoo while half the world starves and he's got his finger in the pokies!

Sioned:- Richard! RICHARD EMMANUEL JONES! Are you drinking?! You'd better not be drinking in there! -

REJ:- Shit! We're sunk! Do some linguistics! Quick! hide!

DR.F:- Ok - you behind the sofa, me behind the curtains -

REJ:- Strewth Fraser! You stand out like a shag on a rock mate! The Sheila'll be spewin'like a Taswegian on turps! If she finds out I've got a gutful of piss I won't see her white pointers for a month! - etc etc

Poem for the day

2009-11-07T19:59:00.000Z

Well it's later than it earlier was and I still haven't managed a poemical writing. I have tried, honest to God, but it's harder than it looks. I think four lines is the maximum extent of my stanzitational field. In addition as well to this I am emburdened in extra with the added weight of a request indeed from Sir Allan of W, a noted econosportsman, decbankthlete and shouting-sideline proxyhooligan. It reads like thus:- Dear Richard Emmanuel Jones.....something about Idris.....blablabla........god he waffles doesn't he?........can you do us a poem about economics......er....something about water.....is he drunk?.....saltwater/freshwater economics.....he's on something this boy......preferably one about imperialist exploitation of leeward French Polynesian islands containing one profundity about the relative nature of wealth, and ending with a pun on the original Tahitian pronounciation of the aforementioned. In four lines. Please, Thankyou. Sir Allan of W.

Well Sir Allan of W! As I said I couldn't earlier, indeed I can, for counter-intuitively perhaps, the greater the specified rules, the lesser the work for the hand of the creator.....

In search of wealth, he went in stealth
By sea to Bora Bora.
He lacked the itch, to make him rich
So made the poorer poorer.

There you are Sir Allan of W. £12.50. Tenner for cash. Dilys the tax - only joking!

Poem for the day

2009-11-05T21:23:00.000Z

Nom d'un pipe! Nous nearly Oublied the poem encore! That would have been a domage n'est-ce pas? Perhaps you can guess from some subtle encryptions pre-sentencing this that today's poem will be in English. The trouble is the villagers are so busy with their anti-nazi-eugenics inbreeding programme - (there's no such thing! - not officially - that was a little joke from Richard!) - that the number of poems submitted has fallen to an all-week low. The quality's the same though - more's the pity. Idris Jenkins the television has sent in today's doorstep mouse corpse offering and I publish with a heavy heart and sagging soul if this be the best the town that won the 1923 county eisteddfod is reduced to. And they say global warming is a tragedy....

A Slave Rejoices.

I'm free! said the slave
Now what can I do?
'You can stand over there
In the jobcentre queue

You can beg for your work
On the free market stage
And can peddle your soul
For the minimum wage

You can live in a house
Paying rent to the hilt
'Pay for the house?
Why it's already built!'

You can keep all your money
For now you are free -
Just minus outgoings -
Twice earnings you see!

Whereas once you had nothing
You now have your debts
And this my free friend
Is as good as it gets.

Hmmm....Well again, it rhymed Idris, so that shows a commendable lack of imagination, but I don't think the London School of Economics will be calling any time soon. Perhaps you would do better to watch 'It's a wonderful life' to get a proper grasp of how economics works in the harsh reality of the real world.

I think I might write tomorrow's poem myself. If you have to ask why then you'll never know.

Bonfire night in Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun

2009-11-05T17:40:00.000Z

Good evening my dear camp followers. Many people ask me 'Richard, what is bonfire night like in Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun?' I then answer. Unless I'm too busy or need to concentrate on something else that is. Perhaps I might be driving along a particularly bendy bit of the A4170, say that bit passing the rock that bepainted enseeches:- 'Cofiwch Dryweryn', and I am distracted by a frantic effort to cofio what happened in Dryweryn. Perhaps a goose has strayed into my garden and I must rush to defend my slugs. There could be all sorts of reasons not to answer. But if I were indeed to answer I would say something like this:- It's the same as bonfire night everywhere else, but a bit wetter.

For the benefit of any foreign transponders, bonfire night encelebrates the failed exploding of London's parliament in 1605. Owain Glyndwr's Welsh parliament in Machynlleth of 1404 was largely unaffected. The incompetent Guy Fawkes - who couldn't torch a Snowdonia holiday home off-season to save his life - was hanged, drawn and quartered and given a severe telling off he wouldn't forget in a hurry. Four centuries later and we reenact this punishment by setting fire to him. Not literally, no! - he's suffered enough. Instead a life-like cereal packet with a pen-drawn face atop some pallets from behind the back of E.T.James & Sons Ltd.

It could be said, with little to no danger of a successful charge of deceitfulness being brought to provition, that bonfire night's biggest fan - of it's Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun fanners - is Hywel Edwards the taxi. And he's here with me now, or yesterday if you are receiving tomorrow's repeat seedcast:-

REJ:- Hywel! How are you? Nice of you to drop in! Would you like a cwpaned o te?

HEthetaxi:- Lovely! Have one yourself!

REJ:- Thanks, I'll put one behind the bar. Now then Hywel, sense now! How is it that a big grown-up and muscular man like yourself is happening to be manifestualised as Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun's biggest bonfire night fan and enthusiastic isn't it?

HEthetaxi:- Wel Duw Richard! It's the taxi isn't it? Arian in the sky-rocket!

REJ:- I'm sorry?

HEthetaxi:- The plant bach! They go up like torches the little ones - and someone has to take them to the hospital. The ambulance parks in the layby at Rhayader isn't it?

REJ:- I believe so

HEthetaxi:- Now you can either be extinguished in Aberystwyth or Hereford. But that's a long walk when you're on fire -

REJ:- 40 miles.....either way.

HEthetaxi:- And Jim the gutter will be in the ambulance having his stomach pumped -

REJ:- If it's after nine, yes -

HEthetaxi:- 8:30 on bonfire night, Richard, 8:30 tops.

REJ:- He's a one isn't he?! Remember that time with the monks and the mead -

HEthetaxi:- Broke a few -

REJ:- vows that night! hahaha!

HEthetaxi:- hahaha! yes so the littluns has to go to the quacks in the old taxi isn't it? Fifty quid a pop! Makes it all worthwhile. I calls myself 'The Fourth emergency service'.

REJ:- That's the coastguard -

HEthetaxi:- Well you go with the bloody coastguard then you dull -

REJ:- I could go with the coastguard -

HEthetaxi:- How the fuck could you go with the coastguard you -

REJ:- I could. I could get my dinghy out of the garage, go down the park - not the one with the slide - river's a bit choppy there -

HEthetaxi:- Ok. Never mind. Here's some sparklers for the boy. And some rockets. And a box of lighter fluid. And -

REJ:- Well that's a nice note to end on! You're always so generous to the kids Hywel -

HEthetaxi:- Well they's the future aren't they Richard? I loves kids I do. £40 more if they're sick in the car isn't it?

Poem for the day

2009-11-04T10:07:00.000Z

Dear Richard. - that's all it says - no surname or nothing - Please could we have a poem about anatomy. Perhaps a silly one. Yours Faithcerely, S. Milligan ItoldyouIwasill.

Why certainly S.Milligan ItoldyouIwasill. Glad to oblige. Noblesse oblige indeed. The versed man's burden etc

Skin, Skin, lovely skin -
It keeps your outsides out and your insides in
A sack of snot makes lovely lube -
The toilet tells you you're a tube.

Is it worth going on? I suppose it can't get worse....

A stretchy hole for stools to pass
The other end eats dead cow's arse

Oh - I think that is enough really - a bit crude don't I think? - the image of God etc? Come on now -

The dangler's purpose not quite clear -
But not for bottoms! God's not queer!

No - I'm sorry - I'm going to have to stop me there - this is getting offensive now -

The furry -

Right! That's it! Go to my room Richard Emmanuel Jones! And no supper until evensong.

Llanwrtyd wells:- a town less ordinance-ary

2009-11-03T20:15:00.000Z

Llanwrtyd Wells is host to many world famous events noone outside of Powys has heard of:- the world bog snorkelling championships, the man versus horse marathon hill race, and for the first time this year, the Llanwrtyd Wells pro/celebrity mine clearance televisual special, or LLWPCMCTS for short. Town criersmith Matthew 'the voice' Jones is very excited to have secured the talents of Rolf Harris, Bruce Forsyth and thatguyoutofeastenders for the event and next week they will be lining up against the Royal Engineers elite explosive ordinance disposal unit. I can't wait.

REJ:- Now Matthew Jones, excuse me - hello -

MJ:- Hello! -

REJ:- Yes, what do you want?

MJ:- I want to do my OYYYEAAEAAAY thing, but you haven't got big enough letters.

REJ:- Well Matthew can you tell me - and I'm sure you can - just how excited you are to have secured the aforementioned A-list celebrities for your event?

MJ:- Moderately, I think Richard

REJ:- Indeed. Best not to go overboard now isn't it?

MJ:- Yes - that way disappointment lies

REJ:- Well that's a sensible attitude to take -

MJ:- Thanks Richard

REJ:- Now Matthew, we must be getting on. Sioned will need a servicing later or she will be out 'running with the bull' as we say in these parts -

MJ:- er - noone said anything about that - Mair from the Post Office just said to come and talk about -

REJ:- Can you explain to us the format of the televisual special?

MJ:- Well yes I can indeed. Fifty mines have been buried in cae mawr - Dai Edwards' setaside - and Rolf, Bruce and thatguyoutofeastenders have ten minutes to defuse as many as they can. Each safely defused mine is worth 10 points to their team. And points mean prizes. What do points mean? -

REJ:- PRIZES! hahaha.

MJ:- Good game!

REJ:- Good game!

MJ:- Didn't they do well?

REJ:- Let's have a look at the old scoreboard!

MJ:- Here they are they're so amusing, ok Royal Engineer explosive ordinance disposal elite unit and A-list celebrities - do your defusing!

REJ:- Ooooh good one! I bet that catches on. Ok what happens next?

MJ:- Well it's the pilot show. If it goes well the BBC -

REJ:- No I meant what happens next in the game?

MJ:- Oh but you'll have to tune in and see Richard! It's on S4C Saturday 6:15pm for the dinner time audience

REJ:- Well indeed we all will. And Matthew I wish you every success and hope the show goes with a -

MJ:- bang. Yes. I saw that coming Richard -

REJ:- Did you now? Well did you see this coming - ooof! - you did. How abou- aaaargh - Iesu mawr! that's enough now! - Sioned! SIONED!

Poem for the day

2009-11-03T14:35:00.001Z

Indeed to goodness yes well mind you isn't it? This by electric text-phone from beyond the border yesterday:-

Dear Richard Emmanuel Jones, How come all your featured poems are rubbish? How about a Haiku? Mr A.C. Omputerprogrammer, Bracknell.

Well, well, Mr Omputerprogrammer. I'm sorry to hear of your predicamentistress. I believe I can most immediately help you by revealing that roads are often bi-directional and there may in fact be a way out of Bracknell as well as in. As for the suggestion for a change in poetic form I can only agree! But the sophisticated form that is the haiku has not yet blessed even Cnwch-y-Craig with a manifestation. Perhaps if you could pick words at random from your 'C ++ for dummies' then that would suffice. Instead we can only manage a limerick from Dr. Williams who today we find in much uplifted spirits and intravenous methadonic enspangledment:-

There once was a nutter from Merthyr
A 9-11 truth 'bama birther
Now her kids are all dead
From the vaccines she said
And not at all because they didn't present until the social worker brought them in unconscious in comas due to her preference for alternative medicine treatments from a homeopathic retarded flat-earther.

Very good Emrys! I suppose you're not paying for the syllables so you might as well inject some extra ones. Inject! Geddit! Are you alright Doctor? You're drooling...

Poem for the day

2009-11-02T16:06:00.000Z

Well, well! I just had the funniest dream! I'm going to see my financial adviser later today - but that's not a poetical ride on the iambic tetrametricycle is it? But here tinkling his versi-bell and kicking down his odular-leg-stand is Llanfihangel-y-creuddun's very own but not really one of us Walford Jenkins, who has a moustache. Walford is a resting lunatic on loan from Aberwristwatch-on-sea. The Lead and Silver mines at Nant-yr-arian have long leeched lunacy into the lives of the Aberwristwatchians. And Walford was well irrigated indeed if you get my meaning. The famous Gwent ward of the North Road hospital is the traditional holding bay for these kind of moon-barkers and I think this may be what Walford's poem is going to be about. But I'm not getting too close.

The sun went out, the sky went dark
The world collapsed around me
The stars they fell, and me as well
By soulfelt gravity

Some time to rest, it would be best
For all concerned and me
They made it clear, I'd volunteer
Or go on Section III

I climbed the steps, took one last breath
Of air so fresh and free
The satellite, throughout the night
Transmitting E.C.T.

They took my things, I signed the form
They took my blood from me
Before I'd rest they'd do the test
For drugs and HIV

And all about the ward I saw
Bodies parted from their souls
Some nightmare force that ripped through arms
Through cigarette shaped holes

It was the will that climbed the hill
And leapt unto the sea
It held the knife that took the life
Of Gavin in room three

Some wept remembering the pain
The terror that suppresses
But some no longer felt at all
And these - I came to know - were the successes.

er - yes. Da iawn Walford. Haven't you got to be getting somewhere? Shame you messed up the last line there - doesn't quite scan does it? Not that I'm being critical! You write what you like all good therapy for a moon-barker! er - I'll be having to go now......let yourself out....I fancy a bit of a jog actually.....I'll just start sprinting.....

Nos Calan Gaeaf and an interview with y Parch.

2009-10-31T15:35:00.000Z

Well continuing our theme today - what was it Sioned? - Oh yes - was it? I'll dechrau eto. I see from the Gregorian clockwork calendar Phil the Rimmer kindly inventuallised for me that hasn't changed since this date last year that it is indeed today and half night Nos Calan Gaeaf, or as you cultural imperialist usurpers would have us say - All Halloween's evening. Tonight is the night the children of the gorsedd dress gaily and enskip the towns with a horse's skull astick beribboned Mari Lwyd. Or whatever it is they don't do anymore. I can't remember, but it was definitely better than the new things they do. And we had no sweets. There was a war on you know indeed don't you know isn't it? But is there more to this make-believe than pretend itself? Y Parch. Hosan Hir believes there very much is! He believes the Devil himself walks among us scaring drunks and devouring babies and the like. - What's that? - Yes he does Sioned! - He told me the other day! - He said if I were to say Diawl! Diawl! Diawl! the Devil himself would appear before me. - What? - Well it's 30 miles from Devil's Bridge so it should take half an.. - haha very funny. I've lost my thread now. Oh yes, Y Parch Hosan Hir is here with us heno to speak a little talk about the dangers of the occluded front.

REJ:- Parch! Ble wyt ti? Parch Hosan Hir! Sioned! Check the Talisker! Where's he gone now?

Sioned:- Beth? Speak up I'm in y gegin.

REJ:- I said WHERE'S THE BLOODY PARCH?! and CHECK THE TALISKER!

Sioned:- HE RAN OUT SCREAMING IN LATIN! and YES HE'S HAD IT AGAIN!

REJ:- Well boys bach what a twpsyn. Sioned! SIONED! check the....CHECK THE THERMOSTAT WOULD YOU LOVE? the hea...THE HEATING'S GONE FUNNY AGAIN!

Sioned:-IT LOOKS FINE TO ME! CHECK IT YOUR BLOODY SELF!

REJ:- Well I'm very sorry video-listeners....it seems tonight's interview is off - Wha - Wai - What! Mr Davies! Where did you come from? Owain Davies of Davies & Davies letting agents!

OD:- Hello Richard!

REJ:- er – Hello Owain. Um I seem to be in a bit of a fix if you know what I mean. I was going to talk about -

OD:- The dangers of the occult. The eternal battle between the profane and the sacred. The dark forces bey -

REJ:- the dark forces beyond the horizon of direct experience that control and enslave us -

OD:- You mean the English! Tee-hee! No I musn't stir things up, I really mustn't! But what a wit! You see how I had to say it don't you? Keep the fingers pointing the other way! Oh it really should be harder! - I couldn't do it on my own you know.

REJ:- er - yes. I'm sure you meant something. Now about this halloween stuff and nonsense isn't it. For some reason I suddenly think you have something to say on the mattress.

OD:- Tee-hee! Double-the-rent-keep-the-deposit-throw-the-kidsinthestreet! I can't stop these tics! Well yes Richard, I think it's all harmless fun really. I've never really got on with Y Parch. I heard he drinks too much - and there's not much worse than that is there?

REJ:- er - I suppose not now you tell me to think it. So all this evil walking amongst us nonsense is nonsense then is it?

OD:- Oh! Quite clearly! You've got it! I didn't realise you were so clever! tee-hee! monthinadvance-dontfixtheheating-mouldinthekidslungs-buytenmorehouses mmmnnnsk! tic! tic! Yes landlords and bankers are very poor Richard. I'm so glad you told me that! The government should give them more money I thought I heard you just say? Fifteen percent for me! tic! tic!

REJ:- Yes indeed Owain. Are you sure you're alright? Your eyes look a bit odd -

OD:- - We weren't looking this way were we Richard?!

REJ:- No indeed, please forgive me -

OD:- Tee-hee! - ask me something else! -

REJ:- I think I will indeed. But I'm having some trouble remembering. What was it - I had a point to make and it was so obvious -

OD:- Ignore the little voices Richard! Don't worry about -

REJ:- Ah yes! That was it! A lot of people say that when the Abercreuddun council estate was sold off and the 110 houses ended up owned by three people and the rents doubled and the families could be thrown on the streets with just three months notice -

OD:- Two I believe -

REJ:- With just two months notice - diolch - and the working poor families had in effect an extra 50% tax on their income but no security at all and the poorer poor families could be not even housed in the first place -

OD:- Or evicted! -

REJ:- And the three people got the money from the poor workers or from the government that once paid half as much and to itself instead of to the three people who did nothing -

OD:- they signed some papers! -

REJ:- they did nothing but sign some papers yes. And keep the money that could have gone to the Bronglais children's ward. Well a lot of people say that this is wrong.

OD:- Right!

REJ:- No, Wrong!

OD:- Yes Right! Wrong they are! We agree. A lot of people say that this is right. Things are much better for these worse off people. Do you watch the news Richard?

REJ:- er - I'm ashamed to say I don't have a TV at the moment -

OD:- Shame?! Well that's a start! - something to work on later! tic tic! I'm disappointed Richard! You see why you're confused don't you? I have some friends who make some super TV programmes! I'm sure you'd like to pay them -

REJ:- Would I? Is that what I was saying?

OD:- I'm sure it was! tee-hee! you see y Parch is one for telling scary stories to children isn't he? Evil is abroad indeed! tee-hee! I did a pun! A tripler! Evil is abroad! Richard listen! Would you like to kill someone you haven't met before?!

REJ:-What?! Have you gone loop-a-loop loopy?

OD:-Would you like to come with me hundreds of miles to kill someone you haven't met before?

REJ:- What? You're nuts! Sioned! Owain's here and he's gone nuts! Call the cops! CALL THE COPS!!!

OD:- Oh bollocks. I forgot. I must get you a present for Chri.....mnnnnnsk! xmas! tic tic! Have you got an aerial? What a funny dream you're having! I must be off now. What a funny dream!

Sioned:- Hello Owain! What's he shouting about now? Fallen asleep on the sofa again isn't it?

OD:- Why Hello Mrs Jones! I've been meaning to talk to you! Mortgage rates mean buy-to-let is a very prudent investment at the moment. And with little Ethan going to College in 12 years time....

Poem for the day

2009-10-31T15:20:00.000Z

Well today's poem for the day has been brought into my attentions by young Emyr Penlan of Cwm duad. In fact he's going to read it out himself as it must be heard to be seen apparently. Two words for you Emyr:- recite it!

And when her eyes shine
All life's stars lose their radiance
As the moon and the stars when the sun brings the day
And when her smile fades
All my heart feels it's absence
As the close of the day brings the dark of the night
For a flower is more than the sum of it's petals
And love is the power eternally bright.

Well that was nice Emyr. No need for tears - I've heard worse. I don't think you can start a sentence with 'and' though can you boy? And you said stars twice, three times really - because the sun's a star too isn't it? But well done anyway. What was it about?

Poem for the day

2009-10-30T12:31:00.000Z

Today's poem is a Satyr's pasty of the saucer-eyed opprobrium eater Samuel Tailless Coalbridge. That's according to my notes here. Bryn's writing is not very good. His handwriting I mean - Mae'n ddrwg gen i Bryn! God rest his soul! - his poem writing is unclassified. Bryn lived in a one-roomed bedsit above the mynach where for twenty-seven years he enjoyed shamelessly and without toil, the generous benificements of a modern western classless meritocracy. Mair the papers says he had two cars and she saw one once - parked half a mile away - and he got in the passenger side! Well, well, boys bach, if he could afford a chauffeur then I think 'hounding him to his death' was a bit strong wasn't it Mrs Bryn's mam isn't it? The lazy scrounging bugger! Indeed.

In Aberystwyth Major did
A stately DSS decree
Where poor and needy people ran
And queued times measureless to man
To pawn their dignity.
So twice nine chairs of cerulean
With numbers tolling from red screen
Enfolded carpets bolted to the floors
Where blossomed electronic gadgetry
And here were glass screens thick
And time-locked doors
That gave the Social their security

But oh! that damned deep dividing chasm
Twixt rich and poor the seeds unfairly sown
A savage place! as soulless and degrading
As e'er before a counter girl was haunted
By woman wailing for her crisis loan!

A drunkard on a bender
In the office once I saw
It was a man of aged years
That wondered amidst present peers
Who really won the war
The homeless boy that needs the rent
The cripple needs the bed
The junkie needs to pay the man
A price upon his head
The single mother without fare
Her children cannot feed
She prostitutes her self-esteem
The State buys souls that bleed

And all did frightened see him there
Affix on each a mile-long stare
And all did cry Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
The DSS refused him thrice
And all can see he's better dead
For he on Special Brew hath fed
And drunk all earthly paradise.

Mair the papers says that's Bryn in the last paragraph! Haha stupid bugger isn't it?!