*Oh well done, Clicky! …/lights up… Seriously… /drags… I can only fink… /streams smoke… of one person I’d rather forget…*
*/flicks ash… You’re so right, Clicky… /smokes… Let’s do it…*
Ewwww…seriously? I am being completely honest in saying that I am not reading ahead in the “30 Day Challenge”, and was completely unaware of what Day 4 had in store until Roob mentioned it in the Day 3 post.
Songs that remind us of people we’d rather forget
rofl…um, how to explain this without sounding like a self-centered and condescending prick. Let’s see here…my life is, interesting. Stormy. A completely normal life surrounded by the surreal and serendipitous bordering on the completely unbelievable by incredulous onlookers. A travesty. As a result, “abnormal” and “aberrant” are the norm, so its difficult for me to associate a single something with a single someone. I can associate songs with a particular time, and there may be a particular someone within that time that I can loosely associate with a song, but I usually cannot attribute a song to that person and that person alone. Perhaps its my love of music + my knowledge that associating a particular song with a particular someone is extremely dangerous. Good songs that mean a lot to us don’t come along that often, and for me, to associate a single song with a single someone or even a single something is a sure-fire way to ensure that you are going to hate that song at some point…all because of a someone that has little to nothing to do with that song.
All that said, I’m now thinking of a certain someone, and a certain song that served to break some of the tension as I drove her to the bus station.
Dig For Fire by the Pixies doesn’t make me think about that someone. Or at least, not just and only that certain someone. Does it bring back memories of that unfortunate situation and the events that led up to it? Sure. But wow, what a song. What an exclamation point on a situation. Someone had needs, I could not provide for those needs on the timeline in which they needed them, they decided to move on. Keep digging. Keep searching for the fire they need. This is just me, but its almost as if there was a certain providence to all of the goings on at the time, and those players who were represented as events transpired. Yeah, I’m talking 3rd parties of all kinds, even those that may reside in the more ethereal types of realms.
Was I hurt? You bet. Was I angry? Indeed I was. Do I still feel that pain even today? Yep. Am I still confused even after all these years? Absolutely. But no need to transfer that weight onto The Pixies, nor their album Bossanova, nor their song Dig For Fire. Plus, had all that not happened, you would not be here today reading what I am here today writing. There are reasons for everything. I don’t pretend to know what those are, but yeah, prolly some reasons that things happen in the way and ways that they do. Digress.
I guess some people feel that if you “don’t have a song”, there’s something missing in a relationship. A certain song that has a certain meaning to only you and your partner. Welp, I’m a musician. If I want a song that means something to me and you, and only me and you, I’ll write it myself. Needless to say, this next one kinda got grabbed by a certain someone, they attached some meaning to it, but I always felt that it meant more to them than it did to me. Sounds cold, I know. But again, I have an avenue to express my fire for someone. I don’t need someone else to do it for me. Regardless of all that, someone that I used to know latched onto this song, and I never had the courage to tell them that of all of the music Cocteau Twins have ever produced, this is probably one of my least favorite songs…only because of the additional meaning attached to it via a relationship.
Sucks, because that is a fucking fantastic song. The ending sounds like how God got the idea to hang the morning sun in the sky after an eternal night of darkness.
Beautiful hands us no way lies a means of love
On sounds and guard the stone, and bed had a law
Answers written and I reason
In the reign of sex, blown more than it’s pleased to be
He’s a beauty affection, ooohMen are so nice
He pleases me fine
He pleases me fine, fine, fine, fine
Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine
The music, the lyrics, the arrangement, the performance(s)…fucking genius. How in the hell can I hijack a song like that and attach my own personal meaning(s) to it as if it were somehow mine?
It’s as if I was supposed to melt every time the song came on. Difficult for me to melt even more when you are already a melted and gooey puddle that is completely and totally lovestruck. How do you top, what cannot be topped? I’m already head over heels, so where in the fuck am I supposed to go? Backwards? Back to where this song first became the anthem of my eternal an undying love? Sorry, can’t do it. You were already the sole object of my affection long before you knew that song even existed.
It means something special to you? Great. Seriously, I think that is wonderful. Just don’t expect it to mean the same thing for me that it means for you.
Its sometimes tough to know how to feel about certain things. You’re likely going to encounter things you personally have never experienced yourself, and you may even encounter and experience shit you’ve never even heard of. That said, if relationships can come together, makes sense that they can also come apart. Some things come apart so goddamn fast, that you begin to wonder if the other party was ever actually working to make things work. But such is life sometimes. Some things require the hammer. The harsh stress test(s) to see if this certain something is going to stand the test of time according to your own liking. One drawback of the hammer test tho, is that nothing lasts for long, and certainly not under the hammer. All breaks, all fails, everything crumbles. Just does so a helluva lot faster than it would have otherwise.
So what is it you ultimately seek to achieve. What is this something you wish to obtain, and why is it you choose the hammer to obtain it. While its true that wielding the hammer can teach you a great deal about whatever it is that you are placing on the anvil, at some point you’ll likely need to reflect on what all of this is doing to you. What it is doing to others is obvious, but what it is doing to you? Not so much. In the right hands, a hammer can produce some amazing things. You’re likely to go through a shitload of material during the learning process tho. Might wanna make sure you’ve adequate supplies left available to create your masterpiece once you’ve mastered your craft.
Five songs seems excessive, and much of what I’ve written thusfar may be interpreted by some as being bitter. You may even surmise that I am repressing. Avoiding the subject. Nope. I’m fortunate to have my own outlets. My own pathways for expressing myself and my feelings on a particular subject. Music, song lyrics, poetry, writing, I feel blessed that I have these avenues. Helps me to get on. Helps me to keep going. Experience enough sunrises, and you’ll know that the sun is sure to set. Experience enough sunsets, and you’ll know that the sun is sure to rise.
Doc Holliday: What do you want?
Wyatt Earp: Just to live a normal life.
Doc Holliday: There is no normal life Wyatt…there’s just life. Get on with it.Movie = Tombstone
Normal normalcy is temporary, and all that is normal, is also fleeting.
Not to mention, I don’t like forgetting.
Forgetting makes me forget.
Makes me prone to repeating previous mistakes.
Makes me forget who I was.
That may even lead to my never being who I can be and/or never being who I could have been.
You’ll get my all for as long as you want it.
It’s all I have.
Forgetting? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.
Keep going…
Keep going…
Keep going…
Get the fuck over it, and get on with it.
Not like I have a lot of choice.
There is only one person I’d rather forget: I really don’t care for Tony Blair and this is the song that reminds me of him…
*In your D:Reams, Gordon! …/stubs butt… You utter Charlie…*
*Don’t mind if I do, Clicky… /slides fag from pack… I was feeling dread right up to the Exit Poll, I can tell you… /flicks lighter…*
‘In last week’s Mail on Sunday, after a month and a half travelling from Bolsover to Canterbury, St Ives to Chingford, Wrexham to County Durham, I predicted that Labour’s vaunted Red Wall was on the brink of collapse. I was wrong.
‘It didn’t collapse. It was smashed into a billion pieces. Atomised by the arrogance, ideological blindness, self-righteousness and viciousness of Jeremy Corbyn and his cultish followers.
‘When first elected in 2015, they inherited a battered but proud and functioning party. By the time The Absolute Boy made his graceless resignation speech in the early hours of Friday morning, all that was left was the political equivalent of the Manson clan.’
*Did you know that Dan Hodges… /lights up… can only see out of one eye? …/drags… Son of a double Oscar winning star… /plumes smokes… Great flick, Click. Surprised the fuck out of me…*
*Ha! I loved the credits on that too… /smokes… There’s been no Red Apols! from Labour either, Clicky, for their wankish policies or spiteful attitude toward voters for rejecting them…*
*You’d think! Government needs a strong and credible opposition to keep them straight, Clicky… /flicks ash… A thorn in their side, but this rump Labour lot…*
*/shakes head… I’m not optimistic…*
*You know what they say about people in glasshouses, Clicky? …/thinks… There was also a full moon on Thursday… /drags… An’ then there’s de bussy… /blows smoke rings…*
*/final drag… Corbyn’s willful blindness. Check… /cough… Dan Hodges is a one eyed son…*
*Yeah, there was a definite touché of class about the election result, Clicky… /stubs butt… *
*Nice try, Clicky, but that wasn’t in the movie soundtrack. Go get one that is for us to end this shambles on… /pats snout… Off you pop…*
*Oh good choice, Clicky… /lights up… I love that Song…*
*I get it. And ‘maica’ would be? …/drags… Make up and makeover, Clicky? …/blows smoke ring… Interesting… /flicks ash…*
*I gno! I only mentioned Clacks to Cade a week ago… /smokes… An’ then Shiny sends ’em to me by comet…/grins…*
*/splutters… No smoking around books? …/smirks… Knot at the LoL…*
*/pats snout… Get a Song, Clicky… /stubs butt… I think I’ve found some remote viewing for Cade and I tonight…*
*/Lols…*
*That was very early hours of the day before, Clicky… But yeah!*
*Ah, Matrix Vs Memento, Clicky… Best save that for another post…*
*/chortles…*
*I have GOT to get me a copy of that article about Richard Feynman to read…*
*/rolls eyes…*
*Hex… That’s red Vs blue again, Clicky…*
*Okay, okay! Sheesh, Clicky… I’m getting there…*
I'm gonna stumble here
Someone punched me right in the fucking face this morning
So…what’s all this about, you might ask. Welp…it’s about systems that exist outside systems that classify both. I got to watching a documentary about Mound Builders within The United States/North America, and just how desperately some interests in the 19th Century strove to connect those Mound Builders to the Toltecs and Aztecs.
A: Safety in numbers? Even when those numbers are...zero?
That’s just a guess.
Oh…and also, Roob pointed out that Rose was on a rampage over @ CFrank Davis’ blog.
So, I being me, went and read what Rose had written about on this textual rampage of hers. I was particularly interested to see if it connected in any way, shape or form to the bullshit I’ve been pondering over the last few days…it didn’t.
or something
Weird how that works, eh? But yeah, Pellagra got me to thinking about corn and corn meal that is used in dog food. That NOW has me thinking about fish food/fish meal like the shit they are feeding Bluefin Tuna in the tuna farms in The Mediterranean. THAT got me to thinking about travel and spin, which got me to thinking about farms and farming, and especially as that relates to modern/industrialized farming.
A: Is the answer...nothing?
We have more connections to dirt(s) and soil(s) than we prolly give credit for. Prolly why some pregnant women would crave dirt when pregnant. My granny used to specify “cellar dirt”…it had to be cellar dirt.
Chronic…alcoholism. Sounds redundant.
Sustainable and NetZero living.
Sounds unsustainable
Yeah…I can nitpick this shit to death. But the concept of someone building something for someone from nothing, that costs nothing and does nothing is kinda right up my alley (no pun intended-ish).
I gotta give some props tho. At least people are trying. Not that I see any issues with Marxist types of thinking as it relates to polar opposites or anything. I mean, do you really understand your own line of thinking via both sides of polar thinking? Because if you do, you are prolly something else entirely, and not one or the other.
These concepts that we base our lives on were so fucking fleeting, that they pretty much only existed in theory at the point of their creation, and that’s the best that they could or will ever be. There’s a freedom in that thought tho. A freedom to grow and change. Maybe that’s why the gods were always a little more patient than we give them credit for in the mythology that surrounds them.
That mythology is a redux…right? Lots of things omitted for time and space constraints?
There's a poetry to that thought
I guess I don’t see how legislation can ever get better if it omits the very people that it is intended to serve. That puts a hell of a strain on the executive and judicial branches irrespective of the type or types of government that utilize these streams.
There’s been some mentions of The Roman Empire here and there, and how this empire never really crumbled or went away. But the Roman Empire was built on something. The nations and empires that Rome conquered were built on something. I get the feeling that rigid and rigidity were not concepts used no matter how long its constituents touted that these empires would last. To me, that’s signal number one as to the battle between rigid rigidity, and fluid rigidity, especially as rigidity pertains to fluidity.
What do I mean by that?
Welp…ever been hit by a wall of water? No?
Ever belly-flopped into a swimming pool or some other body of water? No?
Ever bumped into someone else? Maybe?
It’s still a body of water. So…in my thinking anyway…Non-Newtonian Fluid(s) takes on a whole new meaning there. Especially as that relates to “the body” along some more mystical lines. Fountain of Youth, water of life, etc.. Lotta energy and energies at work there holding a lot of shit together and keeping other things apart in doing so. I think even that Yahweh-Yoyo mentioned something about dividing the this from the that…but I can’t remember where I read that.
😉
I got to talking to Roob a bit about my immediate thoughts on this Pellagra comment of Rose’s at Frank’s blog, and especially my thoughts as Pellagra relates to Morgellons.
Cade: Yeah. Pellagra. Sounds way familiar. Poor man’s Leprosy.
RooBeeDoo: But curable 😉
Thinking about her statement now, I must wonder…
"yeah...but how many times and/or how often is it curable?"
What really buzzed my head was this thought about Polio and it’s cure. Smallpox and it’s cure. The common-cold and it’s remedies. Shit like that. How long is something considered cured until it is so irrelevant that it is forgotten about completely?
Anthrax is prolly gonna be our best friend along these lines of thinking since Anthrax can sit in the soil for God only knows how long. And yes, I am thinking more along the lines of “untreated soil” here, meaning that nothing is done to soil to attempt to rid that soil of Anthrax and/or the conditions that favor or produce it. Completely eradicate Anthrax on Earth/Terra, and suddenly certain sectors of your bio-weapons divisions are unemployed and the revenue streams they produced are gone. So the question gets kinda simple here for a second, and it pretty much goes straight to but one point…
A: ???
I ain’t even gonna attempt an answer there, and feel like an idiot for even thinking about that question.
The concept of forgetting has been on my mind, but I keep forgetting to bring it up. Especially as this relates to intelligence, and more specifically, Artificial Intelligence. But just this week, there was some news story about some group having to shut down the AI section of it’s whatever for whatever reason(s).
"Hey kid!!! I don't likes the ways you is behavin'!!! You gets a time-out!!!"
Can you imagine how painful wrestling with the construct of forgetting would be? And yeah, I’m talking more from The Creator standpoint along the lines of “The Original Article” and the original concept itself. Prolly why I was so hateful in chastising a programmer who would not condescend to counting to ten for the first time for and/or with any of these “A.I.” creations of theirs. If you don’t love, what in the FUCK are you doing this for?
Anyway, Vertigo and Alzheimer’s are on the agenda, and there are going to be some tie-ins to regret going on there. Even a power plant has breakers and/or circuits that are designed to fail in the event of an overload. I wonder if part of the fault lay in the ability for these circuits to be replaced and breakers reset?
Meh…anyway…yeah…I can imagine that imagining what it is to forget would be a damn rough concept to tangle with from a creative construct standpoint. I can see quite the tango going on there with sanity/insanity/salvation and regret/compunction/empathy. Include some time in there and those constructs don’t seem quite so scary…and at the same time…yeah…much scarier.
Oh well…opportunity missed.
Live and learn I guess.
Better luck next time.
Whatever.
Someone made reference to a mention that someone had talked about a certain part of a concept that was mentioned recently somewhere else, they then passed the whatever along to me.
A:?¿?
There’s prolly gonna be certain standards that are setup as bait. Disbelievers who don’t necessarily want to believe…they want to see. So yeah…bait. I’m thinking along the lines of “sacred symbols” and “ancient hidden whatever” and shit like that, but it’s also not quite that simple.
I mean yeah, it’s JUST that simple, but there’s more to it as well. Many shapes and forms that are being duplicated/copied or whatever, for whatever reason(s), some under the guise and guises of knowing, and some not so much. What am I rambling about? OK…think of it like this…
Now…if you wanna use a star shape on some new company and/or product of yours, I would recommend that using the above, even as a model, is prolly not in your best interests. Anything remotely close to that is prolly going to get a legal challenge at some point or points…(ba da ching)…and this legal challenge will come when it is most advantageous and financially viable, for them, to pursue this legal action.
O/T: Anyone else notice that there are three stars there and not one? Which makes four stars really and not three nor one...but...yeah or whatever.
Prolly gonna be some bits on founding and foundations here, especially as that relates to the inability of an individual to create their own foundation for their own house/home because of the foundation(s) of another or others.
To relate…if “so-and-so” is “Mr./Mrs. Whoever” in documentation(s) and/or any sort of official communication(s)…but is known around the office as “Douchebag McFuckface”…there’s a problem there. Unless of course your own organization allows and promotes employees to makeup monikers for each other…calling your President/CEO “Cocksucker McFaggyqueer” to their face….for example. But even that doesn’t make it OK…does it? Well…ya gotta get kinda international with your interpretation of slang there. I mean, thinking about it now…”Cocksucker McFaggyqueer” in The UK kinda translates to “GF w/Perks McCigaretteWeirdo”…or thereabouts.
/shrug
Back on the AI business, there are going to be conservative types (even if those conservatives are liberals in certain aspects) that are going to agree with my child-like approach to creation(s)/creating(s) of this type, and are going to make parent/child connections with respect to the care-levels. But I would caution there. If you start getting all hateful and snotty under the premise of what good parenting is, I’m just gonna reference some trends and trending that you prolly aren’t going to like.
This ain’t about stats…it’s about relationships and relating, and not just/only with relatives. It’s about being nice and being thoughtful. Not all the time…but yeah…all the time. But that’s your choice, not mine. I only work here.
X: Can you really not remember where you read about this “Yahweh-YoYo”?
Cade: Nope.
X: …
Cade: Cahokia
X: What exactly does that have to do with anything?
Cade: I dunno what it has to do with anything. But I have some ideas as to what it has to do with everything.
X: Sacred Geometry, eh?
Cade: I guess so. Just makes these “extinction level events” that are so goddamn popular within the scientific vernacular make more sense.
Z: You sure about that?
Cade: Well…yeah…to be honest…it does.
X: How exactly?
Cade: Time.
X: …
Coupla documentaries here that are pretty damn interesting. The documentary on Jules Verne was more like a 1+ hour commercial for Freemasons and their ideology than it was a documentary about Jules Verne, but it was still interesting. I think I’ve tried to watch the one on Celtic Crosses quite a few times now, but have yet to get through it. I’m currently 36 minutes in, and it’s 2 hours long…
kinda like my penis
BOO: When am I going to die?
CADE: Tomorrow.
BOO: Really?
CADE: Yes.
BOO: OK…well…if I’m not dead tomorrow, I’m gonna find you, and we’re gonna have some words.
CADE: Fair enough, but that won’t change my answer.
Just thinking about the concept of creating competence via incompetence. All that flip-flopping circular logic isn’t nearly as appealing when specificity starts getting specific. Especially as these specificities relate personally, and especially especially as the specificities relate personally via our actions past, present and future.
As a creator, going to be lots of hypocritical types of thinking there as it relates to self-evaluation. When you start thinking about associations and associating…things are going to get all kinds of wack. Especially as you create edifices that are specifically designed to fail, and going to be all kinds of additional thoughts to think about with respect to the hows and whys. In the financial markets, a company designed and created to fail in order to boost profits in a “competitor” which you also own…welp…it ain’t going to affect just and only that end/those ends. Gonna be a lot of ends and ending going on prior to the money shot.
So yeah…you create a computer/computer system specifically designed to tell you where the remaining Wonka Golden Ticket is located, then you get pissed off when this system refuses to deliver. I’d say that a rampage is in order.
Have fun
If you aren’t giving consideration to existing systems, you’re doing it wrong. Associated systems are just that…even if you specifically disassociate you and your efforts from certain systems. Now you’ve compounded your problem by including it for exclusion. So yeah…loops and loopholes.
It’s like crushing a flower just because you can. Knowing that you can crush this flower, all you have to do is decide what you are going to do and how. That leaves only actually doing it. Been thinking about this a lot lately with respect to Jesus’s/Yeshua’s assertion that if you commit murder in your heart, you’ve committed murder. I understand the concept, but I think there is more about leaving judgement in the hands of the judge in that case, as it relates to the individual. “Murder” is a pretty broad topic considering how narrow the concept itself is.
But who in the fuck wants to sit around and ponder the concept of murder all the time? Ain’t choo got nothing better to do?
A: Oh yeah...we had us a flower to crush. Or were we still deciding on whether or not to crush it?
If the attitudes, modes and methods for “dealing with mental health issues” do not themselves change quickly and radically…welp…there’s a fuckton of irony going on there ain’t there? Same can be said for injury and illness. Lotta wildly varying opinions about time and times all of a sudden like, eh?
Yeah...some funky shit
cYa | cFa
The first seed plant—the group that includes flowering plants and cone-bearing ones—likely emerged about 320 million years ago, when there were diverse animals on land and at sea, but not yet dinosaurs, mammals or birds.
The oldest-known fossils of flowering plants date from about 140 million years ago—during the age of the dinosaurs which went extinct some 66 million years ago.
Since then, the first flower has evolved into at least 300,0000 species that include almost all plant types used by people for food, medicine and other purposes, said the research team.
Flowering plants represent about 90 percent of all plants on Earth.
“Honesty is the best policy,”
“Ignorance is no defense before the law,”
“Always be nice to the PAs – they’re the gatekeepers.”
“Faint heart never won fair lady,”
“All’s fair in love and war.”
There is a most profound and beautiful question associated with the observed coupling constant, e – the amplitude for a real electron to emit or absorb a real photon. It is a simple number that has been experimentally determined to be close to 0.08542455. (My physicist friends won’t recognize this number, because they like to remember it as the inverse of its square: about 137.03597 with about an uncertainty of about 2 in the last decimal place. It has been a mystery ever since it was discovered more than fifty years ago, and all good theoretical physicists put this number up on their wall and worry about it.) Immediately you would like to know where this number for a coupling comes from: is it related to pi or perhaps to the base of natural logarithms? Nobody knows. It’s one of the greatest damn mysteries of physics: a magic number that comes to us with no understanding by man. You might say the “hand of God” wrote that number, and “we don’t know how He pushed his pencil.” We know what kind of a dance to do experimentally to measure this number very accurately, but we don’t know what kind of dance to do on the computer to make this number come out, without putting it in secretly!
*Damn! Wouldn’t it be hilarious if the mystery were solved by someone enjoying tobacco, Clicky?*
*Ooo I’m looking forward to Christmas this year, Clicky! I wonder who the 14th will be… /thinks… 14 is 7+7… 77… Z…*
*Cheers, Clicky! Yore very good ‘elf…*
*Clicky, that’s watt everyone says to me… /coughs into fist… ‘Scuse, me for that, Click… /wipes hand on trouser leg…*
*/lights fag… Don’t look at me like that… smoking helps… /small hack… helps to get the shit up and off…*
First remembrance of a horse… I was five and our class went on a visit to the local Nick… and there were stables, and this horse… It was the biggest, whitest thing I’d ever seen… and a policeman picked me up from the straw-covered floor, and on put me on it’s back… Magnificent horsey stood placidly, with gentle snorts and tail-flicks whilst a wiggling, giggling slip of a girl stroked its velvety neck, and burying her face deep in it’s silky mane… All the other kids played with batons and badges, but I stayed in the stable… And I cried when it was time to leave, to go home…
“Like Shadowfax?” Kit-Kat said with a cocky grin. We were standing in the Kit Chinwag room of the house (the place of food). He was damp and ruddy-faced from the rain-sodden walk home from school.
I stopped and looked up at Thing 2, who now towers over me “Who?”
He stripped off his school tie from around his neck and looked at me with a faint look of disgust. “Gandalf’s horse? Shadowfax… Oh do come on Mater!”
*If you like, Clicky… though I doubt Gandalf was employed as a Brixton Bobby in 1972…/small cough with side order of squint… What you trying to suggest?*
*Oh course I’m fucking decent? What sort of question is that?!*
*Ah… yeah… I don’t actually want to hang the Righteous fuckers… I just fink they’re a bit… /taps temple… mentally ill-like… ‘cos of their phobia toward smoke… /drags some more… Nuffin’ wrong with letting them accumulate rope, though… We’ve knot had much luck in stopping ’em with that particular pursuit…*
Other best remembrance of a horse… In Barbados on holiday in the early 90s. Thoughtful Man and I decided to explore the Highlands… on horseback, as you doo, even though neither of us had ridden a horse before… I was on this big chestnut-coloured creature, with a shaggy, blond mane… sitting ram-rod with fear at the sheer power of the muscles quivering beneath my legs… No crash-helmets provided but worn, leather reins to grip… We set off, follow the leader… he seemed to know where he was going… Well it was his turf, so I just let him do his thing… And then, once in sight of the final destination, he opened up and galloped… And I squealed with delight at the rush, and lost my headband, whipped away by the cool but oh so warm air streaming over me…
“We also went horse-riding in Antigua,” Thoughtful Man reminded me. “But that was shit though because of all the rubbish on the beach.”
“Yeah that wasn’t as good,” I replied, “And then in Arizona, but that was just too hot and cactussy to go any faster.”
Thoughtful Man agreed and turned back to his PC. He was putting Clicky through his paces tending to his Arse-about-Facebook ‘Kingdom’; his favourite game, all neat and full of surprises.
“And don’t forget we owned shares in a horse once,” he said. “That was fun.”
*My first ring-tone, Clicky… I loved that phone, it opened up, like wings, for the qwerty keyboard… /clears throat… I need a sweetie, Clicky… /hold up hand… No, I’ll get ’em… you stay there and… /gets up… Have a Song…*
*/jumps about… Ore that other one, Clicky… Both are good…*
*Knot 19, Clicky, he was 92…*
*/lights up and smokes… I ain’t panicking, gno… Well, it had to ‘appen, Clicky... Everybody goes eventually…*
*/nods sagely… That’s true… /sniffs… Ooh, smells like dinner’s nearly ready – fancy a Song, Clicky?*
“Mum!”
A shadow hovered about me. I slide the headphones off my ears and attempted to look up.
“What’s up Kitty?” I asked, still dragging my eyes away from my PC screen. I’d been talking to Hugo, reading and listening to music.
“So, the fish was just in the sink, already broken, when you went in to brush your teeth?” I asked a pensive looking Kitten. “Okay, then, that is weird. Have you picked up all the pieces and put them aside? Dad might be able to fix it.”
He looked relieved. “Yeah. I told you, it was weird. You like weird stuff.” Kit Kat gave me a fancy bow and a wave…
*A bit more Rimmer, Clicky… /thinks… Like he was doing me a favour… How the fuck do you describe that? Thanks anyway… /pats snout…*
“Goodnight, mother dearest.”
“Do I have to go to bed?” Loopy called over, without breaking from his battle with a hoard of pixelated whatevers.
“No, you can stay up with me. You’re on holiday this week, remember?” I told him.
“Cool.”
Kit Kat and I synchronised eye rolls – Loopy would sit in that chair forever, if we let him. I kissed the top of Kitten’s head ‘goodnight’, and he left for bed.
Conversation between Roo B Doo and son Kitty Doo about where fought/thought/fault/fort/forte lies…
“But technically, it wasn’t me. It was gravity. I just gave it a little nudge.”
Thoughtful Man was sitting at his computer and I at mine. All was peaceful in the Library as I started to read the latest post from my good friend, Cade. I’d only got to the bit about inserting the lie, when I remembered…
https://twitter.com/RooBeeDoo1/status/791648425624346624
*Yes, Clicky, that clown… Don’t do that! You’ll make me lose my concentration…*
“Shit! I forgot to tell you,” I told Thoughtful Man. I rushed upstairs to see Kit Kat. He was doing whatever teenage boys do in their bedrooms. I always knock… well you never know…
*Clicky, stop trying to distract me… Writing…*
“Where’s that fish you broke? Come show it to Dad. He might be able to fix it.”
Kitten was lounging in his Captain’s chair and got up begrudgingly, as teenage boys are want to do. He collected the fish pieces from the bathroom, handed them over and then followed me back downstairs, with a gracelessness that only 15 year old boys can truly muster.
“This fish…” I turned the body of the fish over in my hands and stopped. “Oh, it says made in Mexico. Did we buy this in Grenada or Phoenix? I thought it was Grenada.” I passed the broken pieces across to Thoughtful Man.
“Arizona,” he replied, attempting to fit them together. Part of the head had smashed off and a fin. He inserted the few straggler shards and held it up for inspection. “Traveled a long way, this fish to come live with us. Yeah, I’ll glue that back together. How did it happen?”
I felt Kit Kat stiffen from across the room, where he was taking a suspiciously long pause in the doorway…
*He wasn’t smoking! Clicky, please, go do something else…*
“Oh it’s really weird,” I explained to Thoughtful Man. “The other night when Kit Kat went to brush he teeth, he found it, broken in the sink. An earthquake is a more likely than it spontaneously leap of faith, wouldn’t you say, Kitty?”
I turned to my son, inviting him to give his opinion on the flying/jumping/shaking fish phenomenon he’d tried to palm me off with the other night.
Kitten looked at me before answering. “It was really weird,” the Boy That Breaks Things offered his father with a shrug and knowing smile.
Kit Kat slouched into the Library and sat in Thoughtful Man’s chair.
“Mum, do you want anything from the kitchen?” he asked me. He’s always been thoughtful like that, especially if he wants something in return. Usually food.
“No thanks. Listen, come over here.” I beckoned him over to show him the image I’d created. “I’m writing a LoL post for you, ‘cos I wrote Loobie one, the other day,” I said brightly.
He sat on the arm of my big chair and gave a nod. “S’okay. You writing a post for me? Am I in it?”
“Will you read it?” I asked him.
“I don’t like reading,” he countered. He can be brutally honest went he wants to be.
“Then that’s your punishment for breaking my fish.” I pushed him off my armrest and he returned to his father’s seat. “I’ll tell you what, though, you provide me with three things, any three random things, and I’ll include them in it.”
“Accidentally broke your fish, which is actually my fish because you gave it to me for my toothbrush.” Kit Kat sighed, resigned to playing along to make me happy. He thought for a bit. “It’s about a cheaply made fish that I accidentally broke, so… The first thing is a really expensive fish…”
Opens unsolicited email from MJM, friend from the Blue and Y’Ello Universes.
“An expensive fish? Of course, what else?” I asked. He furrowed his brow before answering slowly.
Ninth email, from Frank, friend from the Red Universe, in an electronic missive chain discussing… well, that’s between him and me but it involves some of characters of the MEROVEE crew… They’re a fun crowd…
Kit Kat’s ‘I-really-couldn’t-care-less’ concentration was suddenly broken by the entrance of a mad dooshund, wrestling with a limpish sock from side to side. It had been quietly lying in the dirty laundry pile.
“Poppy! Let that go, let that go,” Loopy cried, springing up from his chair and attempted to gently prise the white material from the jaws of certain shaken death. “Come on, Poppy, give it to me.”
“And a sock!” Kit Kat exclaimed. “Expensive fish, Benjamin Franklin and a sock,” he finished with a flurry that matched jerky movements of the reluctantly dancing sock…
*Oh for gawd’s sake… /looks skywards…*
“Yes. This sock,” Loopy stated, giving me the sopping wet item before returning to his chair with our darling Popstar for a licky cuddle.
“Okay,” I said, putting the sock down and grabbing my headphones. “Anything else?”
Kitten looked at me thoughtfully. “Yeah, can you remind dad that my game comes out tomorrow?”
“Oh, I’m sure he already knows,” I said. “You’ve been heralding its arrival every bloody day since your birthday.”
*Ha! He saves his money and look at the fuck off size book it comes with, Clicky… /sighs at the irony… He’s never gonna read all that… /looks around… What’s left to do?*
*A Song? Nah, I don’t think it’s finished yet… Hey! Where are you going? Don’t piss off now… /huffs… Fuck it… /lights up, sits back, smokes…*
Library of Libraries 