Thursday, 6 August 2015


Today is just mulching over fallow fields so nothing new here. Just an attempt to avoid hard choices. Enjoy the music and JCM chromic captures.

I admit when I first stood gazing through their remains at the Walt Disney sky that I was ashamed to think how unimpressive the reality of wreckage was. I was used to seeing bombsites cleared and did not expect a free standing structure emote false memory. Guilt; that such a thought should come to me
where the human shadows stilled watched me and those who were in photo flashed love cuddled and died. I new about the power released from chemistry. So I was somewhat unimpressed by the apparent diluted power of nuclear chemistry to obliterate steel. Well how wrong can you be? It was never about ending the war, that Pacific war had been scheduled to continue for decades. It was a cover story covering up the tell tale spoor of the criminals in their tantrum ratruns who misjudged the capabilities of the good citizens of USofA corp. For that one thing you will never be forgiven USofA and you have now spent 70 years of a 200 year program to eradicate you. As I mentioned earlier the Yemen and Syria MOABs are grooming us to expect big EMPs and dead systems soon. No travel for
you and me just like 1913-1950. Oh shit going off reservation again….

Well here we are again and your correspondent has several outpourings on the boil, that one nearly above spilled over the saucepan, and they are all merging into one, bigger than usual, load of codswallop soup. I may never continue so this might be au Renoir mes Amis.

Time taunts me and every time that I think of haunting it it filters through my eye and tires me not through failure but deserted repeated fatigue of an emptied attempted grasp. So so strange.

Did I ever take the time to help you feel the stark steel sky of a Scottish night when even the stars stuck in their grace? The weight of your own icy exhalation heavy in your hand, above your eye and cutting your gullet. Standing monolithic sheened above the sodium glare. No? One day, perhaps.

So whilst I untangle the lasso and regroup we will call a halt to all further bolloxisation and just have some fotos.

They are from my favourite place on this and any other Earth.

These past few days in and around MC1.

The big Yokosuka crane always reminded me of the NY and Glasgow capital cranes.

Ever been on the top deck back seat of a GC/WSMT bus out from St Enoch heading over the Clyde? Fish suppers everywhere and the weather on the ground? Yes? You have lived on the thin film where our thoughts make us prepared and life closes in a boak.


It is not that I have not tried. Success is non local so all will be for nought though others will benefit. Ask the fish kettle.


I went out to the hazel wood
Because a fire was in my head
And I cut and peeled a hazel wand
And hooked a berry with a thread
And when white moths were on the wing
And moth-like stars were flickering out
I dropped a berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame
But something rustled on the door
And someone called me by by name.
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossoms in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands
I will find out where she has gone
And kiss her lips and take her hands
And walk among long dappled grass
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun