Adventures in Remote Viewing: Lyings & Triggers & Scares…

*Nice orange background on that, Clicky…/lights up and smokes… Quite right. Gotta be sensitive to others…*

This week, Dear Reader, Cade Fon Apollyon and I have been remote viewing Terry Gilliam movies…

*/drags… Sumfin’s… /holds smoke in lungs… always afoot, Clicky… /exhales…*

… and Elena left a strange request on Thursday’s MFM post whilst we were in the act of remote viewing The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen

“My favourite French word is Particuliar, if you would care to think about that and tell me what you see.”

Cade and Roob on Munchhausens by Bhaji

*Synonymous with lying… /flicks ash… Pah! Tickle ya! …/grins… The movie certainly tickled me, Clicky. That scene in particular… So many big names in small roles…*

… But we started on Tuesday when the choice of movie for remote viewing that evening – Twelve Monkeys – was triggered by the news that the infectious Coronavirus had arrived in Seattle, Washington from the East…

Roob tells Legs of 12 Monkeys sync

*More like a confluence of influence, Clicky… /rolls eyes… Cade’s choice of documentary to view before the movie had a bearing, as I told Frank on MEROVEE the next day.. /blows smoke rings…*

Roob spills on Merovee

*/final drag… Could a ‘thin coat of paint’ be considered sumfin of a film?  …/stubs butt… Good film, though despite the scary sync… /sighs…*

On Wednesday Terry Gilliam’s fellow Python, Terry Jones, died…

Merovee Frank Bucket Bouquet

*/cocks head… A higher sync? …/shrugs… Brrr, it’s getting cold… /shivers… I’d better finish this shambles and get sumfin to eat. You get a Song, Clicky…*

*I know we remote viewed Time Bandits last night but I wasn’t  intending to include it, Clicky…*

*What are you up to? …/squints…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song…

Trans-Genie Dreamy

The wait is near over, Dear Reader, and I’m not talking about Brexit…

UA8

*/lights up… Hey! That’s not the cover, Clicky… /drags… Leggy’s still working on that…*

*/smokes…*

… With the window for submissions closing fast, Underdog Anthology 8 has so far attracted 10 authors with 18 short stories and 11 poems, not including my mutilated offering in the Afterword

*So far on the Dead Poets Page, I’ve managed to… /counts on fingers… stitch up Shakespeare, ravage Routhier, lacerate Lazarus, willingly torture Wells & Tormé, wanker Wheatley, pillage Poe and obliterate Oliphant… /flicks ASH… About time I butchered Blake don’t ya fink, Clicky… /smokes contentedly…*

So, Dear Reader, with a hat-tip to Dr Seuss – never mess with Seuss – the LoL is pleased to present my perverse verse for Underdog Anthology 8 from Leg Iron Books. Of course it’s about Brexit…

crouching tiger hidden dragon 1

The Creeps (that stole Brexit Brexit)

by Roo B. Doo

 

Brexit Brexit, MPs blight,

In the politics of Fright;

What immoral Hansard lie,

Could frame their shameful skimitry?

 

What the distant Creeps despise,

Disbelieving of their lies?

In Labour town & Tory shire,

People chose Leave as their desire?

 

And what bluster, for their part,

In twisting syntax off the chart?

And so the Creeps began to cheat,

Safe in smugness, if not in seat.

 

“What the horror? Why the pain?”

“The People didn’t know thy brain!”

“What the oldies failed to grasp,

It’s not long ’til their final gasp!”

 

When the Creeps threw down their sneers,

Made amendments, with loud jeers,

Did they smile their work to see?

Do they know they’ll have to flee?

 

Brexit Brexit, MPs blight,

In the politics of Fright;

What immoral Hansard lie,

Could frame their shameful skimitry?

crouching tiger hidden dragon 2

*/stubs butt… Those fuckers are gonna rue the day, Clicky…*

Until next time, Dear Reader… Have a Song…