Adventures in Remote Viewing: Animal Fam

Dear Reader, I have been reading Animal Farm by George Orwell, as part of the newly formed Gloom Dog Book club…

*Poppy Sweet Pea set the club up at UBU, Clicky… /lights up and smokes… I knew the story but never actually got round to reading the book… /flicks ash… Until yesterday…*

*Oh, it’s a great book choice to start with considering current political climes, Clicky…*

There’s a paragraph early on in the story that grabbed my attention because it synced with a conversation that I had with Cade Fon Apollyon on Friday evening, regarding: the 1966 movie Arabesque starring Gregory Peck and Sophia Loren; some randomly posted bible verse in the comments of a YouTube video of disco song that was a hit in Japan in 1977; and an unexpected  stream of swan, monkey, lion and elephant appearances to cross my path that day…

*Yeah I know. It’s a bit whacky, butt bear with me and I’ll try to explain…*

First things first, here is the paragraph from Animal Farm that grabbed my attention:

‘Napoleon took no interest in Snowball’s committees. He said that the education of the young was more important than anything that could be done for those who were already grown up. It happened that Jessie and Bluebell had both whelped soon after the hay harvest, giving birth between them to nine sturdy puppies. As soon as they were weaned, Napoleon took them away from their mothers, saying that he would make himself responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be reached by a ladder from the harness-room, and there kept them in such seclusion that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.’

*Okay I’m getting to it… /drags… Get arabesque to show, Dear Reader, Clicky…*

*No, the movie… /rolls eyes…*

*An outbreak of flu is used as an excuse in the opening scene and the missing cipher hidden in a sweetie wrapper, labelled 9…*

*The title of Wes’ talk is meant to be sarcastic. Actually a ‘pollock’ is also a fish… /thinks… Wait, this is syncing with the ‘lost joke’ in your recent post, Clicky…*

*Vans with ‘Cubitts’ on the side were very prominent in the movie… /drags…*

*Weird fucking movie, Clicky. Enjoyable but weird… /streams smoke… To think, we only watched it ‘cos of a Twitter convo Cade had with @monkeynutshell shortly beforehand…*

*/flicks ash… A trio from Frankfurt…*

*Some elephant tweets had crossed my twitterfeed that day…*

*Menemosyne is an aspect of the Planetary Animal Mother, Sophia, according to Gnostic teacher John Lamb Lash… /final drag… Goddess of Memory and mother of the 9 Muses…*

*An elephant would be an excellent witness to a crime, Clicky… /stubs butt…*

*Wes’ latest vid… /grins… Talk about the elephant in the room…*

Okay, I’m gonna have to assume, Dear Reader, that you followed the conversation above and employed your Clicky when cued, to perceive the synchronicities that I experienced…

… So, let’s go back to the paragraph from Animal Farm that grabbed my attention…

Nose of a Lion took no interest in Snowball’s committees. He said that the education of the young was more important than anything that could be done for those who were already grown up. It happened that Jessie and Bluebell had both whelped soon after the hay harvest, giving birth between them to nine sturdy puppies. As soon as they were weaned, Napoleon took them away from their mothers, saying that he would make himself responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be reached by a ladder from the harness-room, and there kept them in such seclusion that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.’

*Sorry for the spoiler, Clicky, butt those 9 puppies became Napoleon’s attack dogs, enforcing his rule over Animal Farm…*

*Yeah, it’s a lot to take in, Clicky…*

I’ve nearly finished reading Animal Farm, Dear Reader. It’s funny, George Orwell prefaced the story with ‘A Fairy-tale’, a pejorative term used to describe myths…

… Have a Song, Dear Reader… 😉

CLICK5: Remembering Terry

CLICK5: “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more”

Knot Barred… With Update

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Yes, Dear Reader, The Underdog Anthology is well on nigh

*I am not a princess, Clicky! …/looks aghast… *

*/sniff… Sandwich Queen, maybe… Now stop interrupting me…*

Anyway, as I was saying, Dear Reader, The Underdog Anthology will be published very soon…

*No, Clicky, my pen name’s Roo B. Doo… sounds like RooBeeDoo…*

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*Yeah well I’m rather more fond of a shamble than Tiff… /shoos away assistant… Now, stop butting in…*

Leggy, the Underdog, is keen not to make the cover too attractive to children. Personally, I think the little buggers could do with reading the superbly written horror, sex and violence that unfolds inside…

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*/Squints… It’s his pub, Clicky… Leggy’s the gaffer and I fully respect that… Now fuck off for a minute, I want to put the poem in…*

As an ‘Afterword’ in his other short story collections, a literary giant is giving a kicking – Lewis Carroll in ‘Dark Thoughts and Demons‘, and Edgar Allan Poe in ‘Fears of the Old and New‘.  For The Underdog Anthology, Leggy enticed me into a bit of vandalism…

 

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*Oh yeah… Anyone that knows me, noses there was only one giant, I’d take on, Clicky…*

So, Dear Reader, reproduced below is my afterword contribution to The Underdog Anthology… Sonnet 6+6+6…

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Dear Reader… Have a Song ❤

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Update

Dear Reader, we now have a back cover

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It’s my birthday today. I got cake for breakfast from Google …

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*I know! What a scrummy surprise …*

… and Thoughtful Man took me shopping …

*Hardly, Clicky … the local Asbo …*

He takes me shopping once a year, mostly to remind himself why he doesn’t go shopping with me more regularly …

*No, not quite …*

I rather like food shopping, looking at all the product laden shelves … studying the exciting ingredients … riding the trolley … I get rather google-eyed at it all …

“Calm down or I’ll Mary Lincoln you” Thoughtful Man sighed heavily, placing a steading hand on the handlebar as it wobbled closer to a 2 for 1 special on Pot Noodles.

“Ab Lincoln’s wife? I was taken aback and slightly flattered … the wife of a President.

“She went mental and was committed by her son after she fell in with a spiritualist” he replied as we skirted past a group of lads looking for the barbecue and beer aisle.  “He invented double exposure photography, though he didn’t get the credit for it”.

I skidded to a stop … good job too, I hadn’t seen the mobility scooters conveniently parked at the entrance to the cat food aisle. “Do you mean like Photoshop?”

*Unfortunately Clicky, I don’t think that’s photoshopped …*

*No, not that one either …*

“I suppose … Do we really need this much cheese?” He eyed the trolley contents suspiciously, “toothpicks, pineapple chucks … tin foil … Hang on, I thought you didn’t want a birthday party”.

“I don’t. It’s in case the neighbour’s child comes over to play with the boys”. His icy squint burned. “Sorry, I invited him. He’s just lost his mother”.

“He ate her”.

“I don’t think he had a choice.” I pushed on toward the frozen pizzas. “I think it was like one of those Donner Party situations”.

He caught up by the time we’d reached the check out. “So you [blip] think he’d prefer eating cheese and pineapple [blip] kebabs instead?!” He fluffed open a plastic bag and started filling it. “You are a [blip] mad [blip]“.

*Please Clicky don’t do it. I’m so embarrassed …*

*Clicky!*

Have Sock, Will Travel

Little Sock is small and white. Okay, the sole is grayish – it had been worn by Little Boys – but that’s beside the point. Little Sock is my travelling companion and this is the story of how that came to pass.  Dear Reader, it’s actually quite embarrassing…

*Nice job starting that in the right place, Clicky… /pats snouth… You can carry on helping me tell the story…*

It happened a few years ago, one cold, dark winter’s morning…

Laden with old laptop (i.e. heavy) and handbag overstuffed with paperwork, I pulled my big-arse coat close around me…

…and set off up to The Big Smoke for an early morning meeting with senior managers.  On the way I did as other commuters do…

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…and so didn’t notice the stowaway sock on my shoulder…

*I do not look like that, Clicky! …/thinks… Okay, maybe during the train portion of the journey…*

From Here to There, Little Sock had a grand view of the journey: train, tube and trot through windswept tunnels and frozen roads.  To anyone I passed, it must have looked like I’d taken a direct hit from a great height…

The first time I noticed the stowaway was when I shook my coat off at the other end. Little Sock floated to the floor… In front of the bods I was meeting!

Apparently, Thoughtful Man had everso thoughtfully used my coat, innocently hanging over the banister the night before, as a suitable place to dry Little Sock. The poor thing, having lost its sibling, was still damp after coming out of the washing machine…

*Rude…*

That would have just been an embarrassing story; however, it only happened again less than a week later!

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*Way, Clicky!*

Little Sock, it appears, had got a taste for travelling.  Not wanting to give the impression that I’m Big Bird’s toilet again

…I decided to give Little Sock pride of place in my handbag.  That way it could travel with me everywhere…

Stowaway Little Sock at home

*I’m just thankful it was Little Sock and not Little Boots, Clicky…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😉