Sunday 15 May 2011


Image source.

They were as tight as spray on jeans in a hyperbaric chamber. As exacting as a lasing cavity. They were, that night when I saw them at the Brixton Academy in 1991, my ideal of geezers with drums, guitars and a shouty frontman.

Goat as warm up act.

Everything smooth and noisy. Everything running to schedule. Nothing dropped. Perfect execution. All of us bevvied and happy.

Nothing out of place.

In the unreal world however things and thongs are different. Lie upon massacre upon genocide upon untruth upon fabrication upon lie upon murder upon lie upon fantasy until the root crime is met. The iCSi.

Things are inexact in the iLiarworld, Iquantum. Though measured there is a margin of error. Nothing can be stated with exactitude. Especially if there is engineered error. Thongs can slip and reveal a crack in the orchestrated madness. A starfish of absurdity. Five pointed, pentangled, dangleberries.

This is the background modus to our lives. Their desired buzz.

No amount of fingering, pencil pushing and lubrazol will get those loose ends, the unwanted hang outs back into the dungey cavity again.

So the actors, the trubadors and assorted masked ballers of confusion are called upon to muddy the stiffed waters. The Bamboozeltron is wanked up again within the Herd Attention Space.

“What we have here is a failure to communicate” the Common Purpose weal. Isn’t that so Cressida?

I don’t know where you think you live but I live in the world that does not exist in media coverage. In that world I can clearly watch and observe DIicke’s Keystone Coppery preposition at work.

If one were to dig enough, his graven theorem would be grave theory.

I know contract electricians. I know their look, their smell and their habits. I know the imported autochthonous sparky inphase. Have you ever seen contract electricians getting out of TfPL? I have.

As I said, Stan’s message is administered to others. The lead pill cares not where it falls, just so long as the canaries do not sing that there might not be amnesia in the gold mine.

I wonder who might have iBeen working on the ODIGO network in RCE/LC? That day.