St George was born in Syria and his mother was a Palestinian Christian according to Wikipedia.I think he must hve joined the Roman army and come to England but why do we have an incurser as our patron saint?
Month: April 2015
Motto
“When things are urgent, go slower.”
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The ranks of food wasters
I must confess that I have now entered the ranks of those people mocked in some newspapers for thowing away food.
His Majesty has become very hard to feed lately and has been demanding trifle and cake… despite me giving him a lecture on protein and other such interesting topics.So since he never actually ate the trifls [just a pack of 4 little ones] 1 see it is well beyond its date so it is now going to feed the worms.And His Majesty also is looking for the cat which will be hard to find as it is dead. …..[2002]
Perhaps I can get hold of a new one… or maybe a stuffed one.
We used to visit a museum as children where there was a stuffed wild cat with a bird in its mouth,from Scotland.
I doubt if he’d like that lying on his leg tonight!Or with its head by his.Why it might kill him to see…imagine a snarling cat’s face lying by you.Why he might think it was me:
Have you had your hair done,dear? an interesting striped effect but do take your dentures out,they are positively grotesque.I don’t think we should kiss,let’s just get down to brass tacks.Do take off the fur dressing gown.you are hot enough already.I can’t wait for your hugsi
OMG I must be in the wrong house.If I am going to commit adultery I don’t want to do it with a dead wild cat.Still it won’t keep asking me if I love it…now,there’s a thought
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Venite verbum
Im ‘nuntiavit vulva est valde rudis verbum
Tamen nos omnes onto unum emergere.
Vagina est commune et inmundum.
Vulva crassius est.
Sic vestri ‘egone, nisi turbetur.
Credo dick iuge est quod verbum
Ut opponitur iusto verbum.
Verba fecimus in Graeco
At ego non possum loqui
In casu aliquo organo gets excitentur.
Dum habeat, uti
Si quis hunc tuum fuse
.Venit enim atrophia
Et putat tua posuisti.
Et si diu vivere non possint amittere,
Legam aliquam mollis ante porn vado
Ubi ostendam hospitali
Ego sum non omnino siccum
Habeo decem in lacrimis oculi mei:
.Si ergo sum, humani sanguinis, salve!
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A window of opportunity
We have a phrase here that is common in business speak,it is “Window of opportunity” So if you see one you are meant to go through it… but surely it should be…….A glass door of opportunity.You may see a chance through a window but many windows don’t open.
I have seen a great many things through windows that appeal to me but usually I can’t get in…..especially if they are on the upper floor.Sometimes sitting on the top deck of a bus I’ve seen handsome men getting undressed but as I don’t generally carry a ladder around it’s not proved of any use to me except for writing short stories.Do you feel I am obsessed with windows?If you are a mature man email me to give me your view [!] on this subject.My email addresses are:
maryalright@yoohoo.com
mary.me@soho.organbach,net.co.uk
mayoui@suckatoe.conduit.
marystone@gorgons.co.uk
marymyeye@outspook,com
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They have felled
I once had a neighbor called Lumb
Who had double joints in his thumbs.
They looked rather weird.
As did his beard.
Especially when filled with old crumbs.
Who had double joints in his thumbs.
They looked rather weird.
As did his beard.
Especially when filled with old crumbs.
Lumb wrote his lyrical poems
which left the young ladies all glowing.
He married a Rose
And as everyone knows
Her love is not deep ,it’s overflowing.
She has so many lovers as well
I am unsure whether I ought to tell.
I am not one for spying
On women who are lying
In the arms of the men they have felled
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My ethnic group… pc
They ask me to tick a box
To specify my ethnic group,
Some call me English,but my feet are Celtic
Some call me British,but my eyes are Nordic
I am a white mixed race woman,with Saxon hair
And Irish bones and eyes like those of Danes
The people,not the Dogs,ha ha!
Perhaps I’ll say they’re Scandinavian!
But that’s not good for rhyming,so
I shall have to find a category
That suits a poet,maybe Swedish
Or Tasmanian
As that rhymes with Scandinavian
And poetry matters more
Than collecting flora
To give to Statisticians
Or fauna for the visions
Of multiple mathematicians.
I don’t belong in any box
With my Celtic feet and my golden locks,
And eyes like Finns
[So useful in the winter
For a discontented hinter]
So,no more hints
I tell you to
Please refrain
From asking me again
I’m a lady from the human race
With just a hint of a tiger’s face,
Eyes of angel;snake a trace,
Just enough to make me hiss
When people ask me this
Again. I am a mixed race human being and
I shall fly away now.I do have my own transport
.I can fly.
I’m an angel…sorry an angle.
so this is it.
I’m a descendant of the invaders
and the locals,maybe the Romans too
Photo1180
Note[1]
When St Augustine of Canterbury
was sent by the Pope to convert
the English ,or Anglo-Saxons
as they were then ,to Christianity he was,so struck
by their golden hair, blue eyes
and fair complexions,he said
“They are not Angles but Angels”
Note[2]I am descended like most white British people ,not only from illegal immigrants,
invaders and marauders ie the Anglo-Saxons .the Vikings etc.That’s what makes me English or British.I may have Jewish blood too as prior to King John’s murderous regime there was a big Jewish community in York.I have a great niece who is 25% Jewish.We’re all mixed up here
We may look like angels but…….we don’t behave like angels.comquering other countries and building an empire.
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Going mazy
1 Waken the dead
2 Drink my own sea.
3 Get thrashed.
4 Get messed.
5 Make more wee.
6 Flake some hot muttered oaths
7 Find the orange mars brigade.
8 Roam mein herr.
8 Get my boat on
9 Get my snag and my bus harass.
10 Open the floor and fall out.
11 Stalk to the bus drop
12 Put out my band
13 Fret on the bus
14 Flow into the coffee hop
15 Order a mop of fluffy.
16 Shrink the toffee.
17 Buy a nook in Data phones.
18 Buy some dude.
19 Grow to the bus hop.
20 Get onto the mess
21 Shower my brass
23 Sit doom
24 Fling the bell
25 Get orff.
26 Find my flea.
27 Center the mouse
28 Pant and rant
29 Sitz frown
30 Get anne’s diner.
31 Have a pest
32 Sing 999
33 Open the boa
34 Sit and balk
35 Snow through bed
36 Still not fled.
37 Fall and weep.
38 Sod ’em tomorrow.
39 Say my dares.
40 Dream of feeling.
41 Shaken up again.
42 Shrink the tea.
43 Strike my medication
44 Open the roast and flay the bills.
45 Call the proctor and bask him for anti-neurotics.
46 Be committed
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Facts which are hard to believe
http://www.tickld.com/x/30-facts-that-sound-like-bs
When I was at the grammar school we did cookery lessons in te first two years.One day we were being taught how to boil potatoes.I had been cooking dinners and making cakes from age nine.We were the top stream of girls so obvioulsy quite intelligent.
When she had peeled the potatoes the teacher said
I am going to cut them up into equal sized chunks.Why?
None of us answered… so she said,So they will all be ready at once.Why did none of us answer?
I think that having been taught that at Mass the bread and wine were turned into Jesus’s body we assumed that potatoes had some mysterious religious significance.I was somewhat disappointed by the explanation.
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My gloves and coffee cup
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My religion
We had to learn in school what our religion was about so I’ll try to put down the main ideas.
It’s good to take thorns out of lions’ paws.
Men should never cut their hair.
Sausages are rude because they look like penises.That’s why some folk can’t eat pork,I think.
When we receive Communion and bite the bread,Jesus can feel it.
Candles can help the sole in purgatory as they can see better.
If you have no sins to confess,you should be ashamed of yourself as you are too proud,
Jesus was God’s son but God’s name was not on his birth certificate so Mary was on child benefit and housing benefit too.And it was not wrong because God told us to help each other and the poor.And it was a test.Which we have failed.
God can sew because Jesus liked needles with small eyes.
God didn’t want Jesus to die but human beings are cruel and tend to attack the good… like God’s own chosen people who were given the ten commandments to pass on.There were more than ten but they lost a few in the desert when their tablets’ batteries went flat.
God likes to hear us sing but not rock music as it makes his head ache.
God has his own Spirit to fortify him but he doesn’t smoke every day.He’s like a dragon,you see.
After we die we can be improved by being roasted in a hot fire and eaten by cannibals.It’s called the Inferno and Dante wrote the script before God made the film which seems hard to find but we kept looking.
When we are in heaven we will never have sex again.Or in some cases leave out the “again” but we won’t know as our minds will be blank
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The Unconscious…….quote from Jung
” The unconscious is not a demoniacal monster, but a natural entity which, as far as moral sense, aesthetic taste, and intellectual judgment go, is completely neutral. it only becomes dangerous when our conscious attitude to it is hopelessly wrong. To the degree that we repress it, its danger increases. But the moment the patient begins to assimilate contents that were previously unconscious, its danger diminishes. The dissociation of the personality, the anxious division of the day-time and night-time sides of the psyche, cease with progressive assimilation.” (CW16, § 329)
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I relieved myself
When I was at school we learned spammer and witticisms in the English lesson.And I loved it to spits.Especially those phrases like: je ne sais pas.
In history we spent a year on canals,roads and railways and we never saw the teacher again which was lucky as she was about to begin the study of Revolutions and I have always had whizzy hells and dirt to go.
In geography we learned how to colour in maps of the world and how to go up the pole or poles
In gym lessons some of us found sliding down the ropes rather intriguing.That was before they introduced us to text in special blessings.
We also learned English Country Prancing and how to make cart wheels.
I disliked doing those erratic equations in Maths for an hour a day but it passed the rhyme faster.
I loved languages especially Rattin’ and Squeak which apparently were used by human beings when we were civilised and before proper English was spoke here.Imagine the peasants labouring over Virgins and Hyppocratese and so forth.Did they learn economically?
We did learn some science like how to play with mercury balls and others’ balls such as crickets and bats and so on.We also did Monotony which I liked as I could fall into a light slumber.
I once set my hair on fire in the lab and then I was extinguished by my friend Ally.
After I left school I relieved myself at the university where the staff were very virtuous to ladies.
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From a tree
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The mind makes healing medicine of a leaf
I lie back in the weather-proofed chair
To gaze up at the flowering maple tree.
Now, touched by sun,lungs full of scented air
I embrace with joy the beauty I now see.
Old celandine show brightly by my feet;
Neglected currant bushes straggle side the path
There is no birdsong ,yet a silence sweet
Soothes my heart and quietens my wrath.
My heart’s sore and anguished is this mind
Yet in our little wood I feel deep calm.
My eyes are shadowed and my face is lined.
May this green spring bring me a gentle balm.
For even in depression and deep grief,
The mind makes healing medicine of a leaf.
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The force that makes the green shoots grow is also inside us.
Do you ever feel you have fallen apart?Do you feel like a broken china cup?Well,most of us do now and then… but how can you feel whole again?
Strangely,the best answer seems to be that you don’t need to do anything except perhaps to take it easy.
Because,call it what you like the force that makes the green shoots grow is also inside us.
And it is this which will mend us.
In our societ being hyperactive ,using will power, is overvalued.We heal by submitting to nature and by doing nothing
achieving our goals is highly valued.And being “passive” is not.But we need both these capacities…
You can’t mend yourself by will power but by submitting to the unkown force which grew you from a single cell and which is still there.
Life’s a mystery.Quietness helps us to partake in it
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You are yourself so be yourself,please.
-
“If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree,it will spend it’s whole life thinking it’s stupid”
This is probably wrongly attributed to Albert Einstein
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Five tweets since my last Confession
Pray Father,give me a Dressing.It is five Tweets since my last Depression
So what have you done now?
Well,as I’ve done nothing wrong today ,I am suffering from Pride.
You seem to think about yourself too much
How much is too much,Dad?
Well,when we are happy and doing something we enjoy,we forget ourselves entirely. and that is the best way to be.
But first we need some security.
How can I get that?
You need a spam guard for your mind!At the moment you are on automatic which is the default setting of your brain to act like a reptile…
Thanks very much,Father,I never knew I was a reptile.Did they have scruples..
It was kill or be killed.Don’t you see the scruples are an attack on yourself?The reptile is attacking you… as you have frightening thoughts it’s annoyed.
So how do I rebutt these bad thoughts
Say,Alright if I’m the most wicked man in the city,smite me and do your worst.I am not afraid any more..I have done my best and if it’s not good enough strike me dead now or forever give me peace,
And what will happen after that?
Well,we shall see.But you have to face this thing head on.Bring it to a head.Lance the boil.
So if God does smite me dead?
Well, do you really think you are so wicked because you stole a half penny from the charity box fifty years ago?
I see it’s a sort of pride… a theatrical display of guilt.
Yes, quite right.Anyway, if you survive your ordeal let me know and I’ll give it a try.
Why,don’t say you have scruples too?
Yes,I have scruples about giving advice to people.If they follow it and it’s no good… it worries me….
Why don’t we do or die together,Father?
I’ll give you a buzz.
Meanwhile am I absolved?
Yes, dear boy.Sometimes I wish I could be dissolved..
Why is that?
I’d like to lose myself.
Why not try reading a good book…I recommend Nicholas Freeling.
But I feel guilty reading.
Now look here,Father,God helps those who help themselves….give yourself a break…
A good novel, a cup of tea and a little pussy cat on your knee,you’ll be transformed.
Thank you,my child.
Don’t mention it,Father.
Don’t mention what?
They never say.
It’s just a phrase or is it a phase?
It’s all Greek to me.
I know some very sweet Greeks or are they geeks?
Just one letter can make such a difference..
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My husband is naughty, a very naughty man
My husband is naughty a very naughty man
He throws down the newspaper on top of his beer can
He buys himself a sandwich in a cardboard box
And puts it in the laundry with his woollen socks.
He takes off his pyjamas and chucks them on the floor
He uses hankies frequently, so I have to buy some more.
He wants to have thick sauces on top of all his food.
And when he has a hypo his speech is very rude.
I gave him such a shock when I learned to curse and swear
But we really need to,as “eff off “is everywhere.
Why, even in the Bible there are some wicked words
I’ve not read it all yet, except Psalm 23rd.
I mean to finish reading it and then when I must die,
I’ll come onto a cloud and shout,Oh pi is in the sky.
For transcendental numbers give a hint divine.
Although you can get it better with a glass of dry, white wine.
My husband drinks draught guinness and then he fall asleep
He hollers and curses when the oven timer bleeps.
He eats a piece of kipper and cried out,Oh,dear God!
Nobody caught this b*gger with a fishing rod
He wants to move to Whitby and walk upon the sands
Sit in the audience and hear the big brass bands.
He wants to see the sun rise and to see it set…
So please send God some gelatine in case the air’s too wet!
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Stan meets Satan part1
Stan was standing on the patio when a sudden downpour drenched him all over and made him feel chilly
This is like a monsoon,he murmured to Emile who was also wringing wet.-=or ringing wet,as we Northeners say]
A head appeared over the fence…..with a body close behind
I’m awfully sorry,old boy.A pipe has burst in Annie’s loft.I was just coming in as I am giving a talk to her women’s group later.
I don’t believe.You are Stan Brown.It must be 50 years since I saw you sitting your Finals in the old School.
Stan was hiding his surprise at seeing Rudolf Hairnet,his former logic tutor at an ancient foundation of learning, in the garden of Annie,Stan’s beloved once more [now he has swept out his sacred space and put a bolt on the door.]
Why not pop in,Rudolf,he said.I’ll leave the door open and go upstairs to change my clothes.Be with you in a moment.
Stan went upstairs and removed his clothes.His body was now as thin as when he reached his full height of 6 ft 6 inches but alas it had less muscle and more fat..He gazed into his wife’s mirror.
To his surprise he saw Satan looking out.Although he knew this was possible for Catholics he had never met Satan before.
How do you get behind the mirror,he asked gently.
God only knows,said Satan morosely.
Why not ask him?
I’m too proud,the poor devil replied in a bleak voice.
Well,we all have our pride,Stan told him,though no doubt yours is the biggest in the universe.
Yes,indeed,Satan answered.
Are you here for any purpose,Stan enquired.
Yes,your home seems more intriguing than most and I like to watch you in bed with that flame haired woman.
I see,said Stan,You are a voyeur.
That’s one way of describing me,Satan said,no woman will come to bed with me so I am trapped here behind every mirror in the world.I can see it all but never take part.
You must be very lonely,said Stan
Yes,the dark spirit muttered boastfully yet sadly.
Are there no she-devils about who might oblige you?
I don’t seem to fancy them so much.They are all as bad as me or worse.I want kindness and tenderness not just lust.After all,one might satisfy that with a vibrator… we have them in hell you know!And they are free at the point of contact.
Why,you are beginning to sound almost human,Stan told him.That’s what we want too.If only you would apologise to God I am sure he would forgive you and let you come into the real world of others instead of being trapped in there behind the mercury and glass
Stan heard a noise.He turned round displaying his bony frame and his organs to Rudolf his erstwhile tutor and sometime friend of youth and glory
Are you ok? the old man asked in a tremulous voice.
I was worried that the drenching had knocked you off balance.I have out your kettle on the fire to make you a hot drink and phoned 999 for aid.
But we don’t have a fire,Stan responded.
Well,you do now said Rudolf,so let’s enjoy the flames while we can.Old flames are better than new sometimes.
To whom were you talking in there? Rudolf asked curiously
I was on my mobile,said Stan defensively.
But where was it?You had nothing on ? On second thoughts,please don’t tell me.I’ve heard some strange stories but messing about with a phone is not one I wish to dwell on lest it obsess me at 3 am with strange fancies lurking in the black of my mnind
That’s logicians for you.No interest in the wilder shores of life. a dull crowd Stan told himself as he went downstairs and joined Rudolf in a good cup of tea with the best Willow patterned china on display.
And that is what I need to recover from writing down this very odd tail…
And so does Dave the poor young paramedic from heaven who is just arriving as we leave these two dear old men and their strange meeting,
All donations gracefull received via Payme.
This is like a monsoon,he murmured to Emile who was also wringing wet.-=or ringing wet,as we Northeners say]
A head appeared over the fence…..with a body close behind
I’m awfully sorry,old boy.A pipe has burst in Annie’s loft.I was just coming in as I am giving a talk to her women’s group later.
I don’t believe.You are Stan Brown.It must be 50 years since I saw you sitting your Finals in the old School.
Stan was hiding his surprise at seeing Rudolf Hairnet,his former logic tutor at an ancient foundation of learning, in the garden of Annie,Stan’s beloved once more [now he has swept out his sacred space and put a bolt on the door.]
Why not pop in,Rudolf,he said.I’ll leave the door open and go upstairs to change my clothes.Be with you in a moment.
Stan went upstairs and removed his clothes.His body was now as thin as when he reached his full height of 6 ft 6 inches but alas it had less muscle and more fat..He gazed into his wife’s mirror.
To his surprise he saw Satan looking out.Although he knew this was possible for Catholics he had never met Satan before.
How do you get behind the mirror,he asked gently.
God only knows,said Satan morosely.
Why not ask him?
I’m too proud,the poor devil replied in a bleak voice.
Well,we all have our pride,Stan told him,though no doubt yours is the biggest in the universe.
Yes,indeed,Satan answered.
Are you here for any purpose,Stan enquired.
Yes,your home seems more intriguing than most and I like to watch you in bed with that flame haired woman.
I see,said Stan,You are a voyeur.
That’s one way of describing me,Satan said,no woman will come to bed with me so I am trapped here behind every mirror in the world.I can see it all but never take part.
You must be very lonely,said Stan
Yes,the dark spirit muttered boastfully yet sadly.
Are there no she-devils about who might oblige you?
I don’t seem to fancy them so much.They are all as bad as me or worse.I want kindness and tenderness not just lust.After all,one might satisfy that with a vibrator… we have them in hell you know!And they are free at the point of contact.
Why,you are beginning to sound almost human,Stan told him.That’s what we want too.If only you would apologise to God I am sure he would forgive you and let you come into the real world of others instead of being trapped in there behind the mercury and glass
Stan heard a noise.He turned round displaying his bony frame and his organs to Rudolf his erstwhile tutor and sometime friend of youth and glory
Are you ok? the old man asked in a tremulous voice.
I was worried that the drenching had knocked you off balance.I have out your kettle on the fire to make you a hot drink and phoned 999 for aid.
But we don’t have a fire,Stan responded.
Well,you do now said Rudolf,so let’s enjoy the flames while we can.Old flames are better than new sometimes.
To whom were you talking in there? Rudolf asked curiously
I was on my mobile,said Stan defensively.
But where was it?You had nothing on ? On second thoughts,please don’t tell me.I’ve heard some strange stories but messing about with a phone is not one I wish to dwell on lest it obsess me at 3 am with strange fancies lurking in the black of my mnind
That’s logicians for you.No interest in the wilder shores of life. a dull crowd Stan told himself as he went downstairs and joined Rudolf in a good cup of tea with the best Willow patterned china on display.
And that is what I need to recover from writing down this very odd tail…
And so does Dave the poor young paramedic from heaven who is just arriving as we leave these two dear old men and their strange meeting,
All donations gracefull received via Payme.
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Stan wants a chamber pot
Stan was recovering from his long feverish cold and cough.He had Emile standing on his desk under the windows
cleaning it with a microfibre cloth fastened to his right front paw.
cleaning it with a microfibre cloth fastened to his right front paw.
Very good,Emile,he said in a husky voice.I think I’ll get up and make a hot drink.I feel better now than I did and I
enjoyed the Reith lecture on the radio.Mary came into the room wearing a long dressing gown with a zip front.
Where did you get that,Stan enquired jocosely.
It was hanging behind the door, she said.I must have bought it in a sale.I get almost all my stuff in sales.It makes it more of an achievement.
But are they really want you want,Stan enquired.
I am happy with them because I like bright colors but most folk don’t so they end up in the sale.I just bought
some pewter shoes for £29.99 when in black they were £79.99.
some pewter shoes for £29.99 when in black they were £79.99.
Will pewter shoes not be too heavy?Stan joked.
It’s the color dearest.It’s a good color for when we are going out in the evening to a do.
But we never do go out nowadays .he told her sadly.
I live in my imagination,Mary responded, and so I get clothes and shoes for any possible event
I live in my imagination,Mary responded, and so I get clothes and shoes for any possible event
… funerals.weddings,evening balls.
The only balls you see in the evening are at home ,he murmured vulgarly.
I don’t think that’s very funny,Stan,she told him.I am a woman of gentle birth even if I was born in a coal mine.
am sorry dearest,my mind is not right since I fell out of bed and banged my head on that heavy tin chamber pot.
That’s a flower vase,she told him honestly and directly.We no longer use chamber pots now we have an ensuite
here and a cloakroom downstairs plus an outside lav too.
Well,I do.Stan said.I was brought up with one and I always use one at night.
That’s strange Mary told him.Where do you find them?I have never bought any,not even in the Sales.
In the kitchen,Stan said.In the cupboard
In the kitchen,Stan said.In the cupboard
.Those are my baking bowls, she said crossly.I forbid you to use them to wee into.
Well,will you buy me one? he asked her tenderly as he stroked her curly light blonde hair just washed in Boots
Dandruff and Acne shampoo. with Rosemary and Rose Essence.
Of course,darling,if it wil make you happy.I’ll go online.I am sure they are still made though originally they were
used when people had outside loos.
That can be my Xmas present,he joked,if you pay for express delivery but don’t have it gift wrapped.
Adulterous Annie their neighbour came in.She wore a grass green trouser suit and pink calf high
boots.Underneath she had spanx hip and thigh control pantees and a blue lace bra which peeped out as she had
forgotten to put a blouse or jumper on despite the cold weather.
.What is that, in your hand,Annie ? Stan asked thoughtfully.
It’s a pewter chamber pot that we inheritied from my granny she said
.Gosh,how amazing,it’s just what Stan needs,Mary informed her.He’s been using a vase..
That is very naughty,Annie told him.You should know better
.Naughty!That’s strange word to use.I am a man.I can do what I want.You’ll see.
.Naughty!That’s strange word to use.I am a man.I can do what I want.You’ll see.
But can you want what you do,Mary asked like an Oxford don on low dose speed.
I can if I choose to ,he said.
So do you believe in will power? Annie asked curiously.
Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t, he replied ambiguously which was one of his defense mechanisms when
he was with clever women.
I see,you twist the world around your little finger.
hat’s a strange parallel,Stan told her.But parallel lines on the earth’s surface do meet at the Poles which proves
that Euclidean geometry is not the only sort possible.
Why is that?Annie asked,though she had no idea what he was talking about
Because one of Euclid’s axioms is that parallel lines never meet .
It sounds a bit like men and women nowadays,Stan said thoughtfully.We will only meet if we go up the pole
.I wonder what the origin of that phrase is,Mary said curiously.It’s a strange world.
Meanwhile Emile finished the window and was polishing the dressing table mirror.What luck for Mary and Stan
that Emile loves microfibre and Windolene.Next they are hoping to buy him tiny vacuum cleaner… that would help to
gather up all the dust from the floor and let Mary get on with her book :Mirrors and the development of the pre-oedipal child’s theory of integers and meta-language as hypothosised by
Jack Lacant.Part 1
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I fell into a deep snooze that lasted for year.
This is an extract from “Humboldt’s Gift” in a book review on GoodReads Saul Bellow
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/637022168
Humboldt’s Gift
by Saul Bellow, Jeffrey Eugenides (Introduction)
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/637022168
“Some think that sloth, one of the capital sins, means ordinary laziness,” I began. “Sticking in the mud. Sleeping at the switch. But sloth has to cover a great deal of despair. Sloth is really a busy condition, hyperactive. This activity drives off the wonderful rest or balance without which there can be no poetry or art or thought — none of the highest human functions. These slothful sinners are not able to acquiesce in their own being, as some philosophers say. They labor because rest terrifies them. The old philosophy distinguished between knowledge achieved by effort (ratio) and knowledge received (intellectus) by the listening soul that can hear the essence of things and comes to understand the marvelous. But this calls for unusual strength of soul. The more so since society claims more and more of your inner self and infects you with its restlessness. It trains you in distraction, colonizes consciousness as fast as consciousness advances.The true poise of contemplation or imagination, sits right on the border of sleep and dreaming. Now, Naomi, as I was lying stretched out in America, determineThe true poise, that of contempd to resist its material interests and hoping for redemption by art, I fell into a deep snooze that lasted for year.
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I’m feeling very hungry,don’t you see?
I had a little missionary for my tea
I’m feeling very hungry,don’t you see?
I put a lot butter all over him
I must confess he was really far too thin.
Tomorrow morning I’ll boil an egg
Otherwise I’ll go outside and beg.
I have no missionaries in the house
But one is lurking outside near my dormouse.
It’s been a custom in my native home
To catch any missionary who there roams.
We believe we absorb their virtue best
By roasting them and having a big feast.
You see we are very backward here.
It must be genetic,so I fear.
We like to enjoy a very mixed dinner.
A few green leaves and more boiled sinners.
When we are civilised we’ll buy a nuclear bomb
And maybe more computers and a lot of guns
We’ll start a war and kill a lot of folk.
You can’t break an egg before you boil the yolk
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When certainty seems but a demon dream
When doubts and drawbacks struggle on the mind
And certainty seems but a demon dream,
When faith to love is what we cannot find
For even when asleep, the mind still schemes
When darkness and defeat seem close at hand
And lights dim even as we pray for grace
when wrecks and ruins rile the native sands
When in this life we feel we’ve lost our place…
Yet at the saddest depth we see the light
Surrounding with such warmth,with love adorned
The path that seemed so wrong now leads us right
And in our hearts, warm feelings are new born
For in all storms there is a calm still eye
From which we see the fiercest clouds rush by
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Mary gets yet another letter from the hospital
The postman was very late coming that morning.Stan was asleep in his armchair whilst Annie was analysing some data on the political alignments of the over fifties group in Knittingham.Mary was upstairs daydreaming.
Hi. Mary…Annie called.There’s a letter for you from the hospital.
Mary came down, her face a little pale with anxiety.She opened it slowly.Inside it had the following announcement
Your appointment on 5th October at 3 am with Dr Paramour has been cancelled..
We can offer you he following appointment:
5th October 2014 at 3 am in the usual clinic
This will be with Dr Paramour unless he goes on holiday again.He will remove your tumour and your humor as well.
Stan read the letter.
Why have they sent this? he asked bemusedly as he blinked with his nice blue eyes.
Mary phoned the hospital.She spoke to a charming young man.
What does it mean? she enquired.Why give such a silly letter out.
It means nothing,the man said,It’s the computer.
Computers follow programmes.We’ve had this type of stupid letter many times in the last 6 months….it’s using paper and postage apart from the worry.Why can’t someone alter the programme?
I don’t know,the pleasant man replied.I think nobody understands it.
Don’t they realise that keeping patients calm and trusting is part of the healing process?
No,they don’t he answered despondently.We have to answer the phone all day long.So we can hear how upset some people are.
Stan called out,it’s in the government too.They wasted millions on a new system which was scrapped before it was ever used…
Where are all the intelligent people?
That’s what I have been wondering,thought Emile as he hid behind Annie’s new green handbag hoping a field mouse might come by
I am sure if I planned the the computer programmes I could fix this,said Mary.But I will never be given a job now.I don’t think I’d want it now with my eyesight.
Well,Mary,you are still very beautiful,said Stan.I think I want to go to bed with you.
Stan, how can you say it in front of Annie?
Well,she can come as well if she likes,he replied tactfully.
And what about Emile?
Oh, alright then.We’ll all go to bed even he … we need a life changing experience.And I do not mean another daft letter from that blooming hospital,The Royal Wee.
We could paper the walls with them.
I would not enjoy seeing the walls like that,said Annie.
I am just making a point… that they waste so much money…. and time answering the phone to correct their errors………. it’s like Alice in Sunderland.
I never knew she was a Geordy, mioawed Emile…
I just like to think of her that way,answered Stan.
Anyway,upstairs and off with your clothes… we must make love before we die even if it kills us or we have to go to A and E with angina,migraine,a broken rib or other unmentionable discomforts.
And being obedient they all want upstairs,got undressed and fell asleep side by side in Stan’s large soft bed… except for Emile.
I thought they were going to have a love in,he thought.Perhaps when they waken up,who knows?
Maybe the NHS are trying to make people mad so they will pay for private treatment….
Mary was dreaming she was back at Oxford teaching analysis to a group of frightened first year students…what a pity they are so nervous,she thought.They’s do better working in a garden centre or a zoo…
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Stan is helped by Annie and Mary
Black cat looking out of the window
Stan was feeling somewhat glum,nay even despairing,on Monday morning.
Mary had gone to college on her new folding 6 gear bicycle with its own basket and an extra basket from Wells-next -the- Sea 1995[the wicker basket now somewhat gray in hue.].She was lecturing on Dirac’s cat,Moses.
Stan was left at home sorting out all his art work and materials as well as doing the baking and bathing Emile,the delightful yet trying male cat that lived in their home
Sunk in dark misery,Stan sat in an old uncomfortable chair in the darkest part of the room, while Emile snored on the rug by the bright French windows.Stan went through all the possible reasons for his state of mind.
Was he guilty about his flings with his alluring next door neighbour Annie?
Could it be his failure to toilet train Emile? Or his omitting to carry out the penance given byFather Brown after Stanconfessed to stealing sweets on the way to Confession in 1956?
The longer Stan brooded the more reasons he found for his depression.
He could hardly get up to make a cup of coffee ..even instant seemed too much trouble.Would he even clean his teeth which somehow he’d failed to do?
The doorbell rang… it was a new cord for his laptop asEmile had been chewing the current one ,and 29 books in a sack from Amazon which his wife must have ordered,as he had no recollection of any such foolish spending.How would they pay the bill on the credit card? he ruminated anxiously
Later in the day Annie peered through the window.She tapped on the glass with her well manicured blue finger nails.Let me in she cried naughtily
I’m too tired for any hanky panky he murmured lovingly as he ran his fingers through her thick red tresses.
What is this delightful perfume,beloved? he questioned her.
It’s Poison! she replied.Oh no,sorry it’s Iris and Jasmine Eau de toilette from the Bodyshop.
Despite his lowly sunken state Stan loved this perfume.He sniffed rabidly at her well rounded form.Well,shall we have some tea? she enquired.
Stan sat there hand on chest.I’ve been feeling a little gloomy,he muttered.She peered at him.
You look terribly pale,Stan.Where’s your angina spray?
I can’t recall,he said.Oh,here it is in my vest.
What a strange place to keep it,she responded.
Mary made pockets for all my vests.at one time you could buy vests with pockets
She’s good at sewing despite being so clever.In fact she loves doing things with her hands.
Annie got the GNT spray out and handed it to him.Have you got a pain?
Well,yes,now you mention it,I do,he replied verbosely.
Well, use the bloody thing,she whispered endearingly into his left ear.
He opened his mouth,raised his tongue and with his hand resting lightly on his chin hepressed the button with his forefinger.
His head began to throb, a sign his blood vessels were widening
Annie appeared with a cup of Earl Grey tea and a biscuit .Why,you look a little better.Do you need another dose?
No,I feel much better now.I’ve had it before.He drank the tea but didn’t eat the biscuit which he threw out later in crumbs for the the birds ;his spirits began to rise.Why did he always forget that physical ailments can worsen a mood?He still felt a trifle glum but nothing ameringue wouldn’t put right.
OK,what shall I make for Mary’s supper? he enquired.
You sit there in the window and I’ll just make my special spaghetti,Annie replied gaily,as long as I can stay too.
Yes,I’ll open some red wine he said youthfully,and we can have fried apples and bananas for pudding with non fat Greek yoghurt.
What a wise choice she murmured gently into his ear………that will use up some of the newly picked apples,the bananas were from Lidl’s as usual.
Well,Stan you look better.said Mary happily,You’ve been pale all weekend.Was it Annie who cheered you up,not to put too fine a point on it?
Actually it was nitroglycerine,he said roguishly,but Annie made me use it.
But for us women you’d be dead,she replied equably.
But for you delightful creatures I wouldn’t be here at all,he moaned ecstatically.
Now then Stan,control yourself she urged,After all we have a visitor,Annie!
What a hoot,he thought as he twisted spaghetti round his fork in a careless manner splashing tomato sauce all over his new acrylic jumper.
Thank the Lord for washing machines,Mary said.
I didn’t know Jesus invented them,Annie said with a tone of mild sarcasm but no-one bothered to reply.They were used to her cynicism about religion and never listened.
As told by Emile to the local paper.All donations received free of charge
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Study in blue with limericks
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Google transwaite
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Tu me fais donc schlumpe
Vous me faire sentir si glumpe
Tu me fais il ya des cloches à Schwung
Enfer à brhung
Et un poumon woenderful à Thung.Vous êtes juste un cocker alter
En bas, dans la vieille doekker glosse
Vous me faites crissement être rimé
Je aspire à un Signe, maligne vuenderfifle
Et un vieux bedde essen divineJe suis autobrat non; animaux non je ai a la tete.
La montagne, vey oy.
Youpi yappee yay.
Quel day.Je sais blunderful.Mein Mutter Olden is kranke
Mein Olden Daddie is Swanke.
Esperanto aucune façon!
Européens restent.
Lehitraoat, Mutter,
Kranky vieille guttere.
sie is mal de simple
Dreck ne est pas tout à fait un jurer.
Il ya rubbische partout?
Ils clamme le zéro de l’inflation.
Aleph null.my héros.Je ne ai pas loike votre tarte;
il n’y a pas de pomme dans sa Harte.
Venez à mes Zands et emplay moi avec vos handes.
Il ya everyhear muzak …
Nous tolérons aucun feares.
Dankeschön zie unt ende de l’ci-dessus.
You make me feel so schlumpe
You makke me feel so schlumpe
You makke me feel so glumpe
You makke me feel there are bells to be schwung
Hell to be brhung
And a woenderful lung to be thung.
You’re just an alter cocker
Down in the old glosse doekker
You make me squeal to be rhymed
I long for a zign ,vuenderfifle maligne
And an olden bedde essen divine
Je suis un autobrat;
j’ai un animal a la tete.
La montagne,oy vey.
Yippee yappee yay.
What a blunderful day.Je sais.
Mein olden mutter est kranke
Mein olden daddie est swanke.
Esperanto no way!
Europeans stay.
Lehitraoat,mutter,
Kranky old guttere.
sie est mal de mere
Dreck ain’t quite a swear.
There’s rubbische every where?
They clamme inflation’s zero.
Aleph null.my hero.
I don’t loike your tarte;
there’s no apple in its harte.
Come unto my zands and emplay me with your handes.
There’s muzak everyhear…
We tolerate no feares.
Dankeschon unt zie ende of l’above.
.
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In spring-summer, the light of sun-blue-sky
In spring-summer, the light of sun-blue-sky
Even indoors ,scent of living soil;
nose breathes in odour of unborn flowers, all knotted roots and bulbs;
perfection of a small wildflower born hidden in long grasses
present as a glorious rose a lover proffers
each small blade of grass divine, life-perfect
Hearts resonate with music in the walled garden where the red cracked
Jacobean bricks guard blackbird and thrush.
How can church bells not ring and in our hearts new life start up?
For today, enough to be amongst the suchness,the thus and no otherwise;
is it this we pray to?
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Braver than
Iced water falls from the sky in beads
Just leaving space
for fragile butterflies to court between the drops.
The geometry of love
fits any space
The butterfly is braver than the tiger
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Shakespeare’s enemies
All’s swell that blends well
All tell when ends jell.
Tall as well and weds a bell
As your bike’s blue lit
As You like bluetits
As you strike it .
As you make it up.
The Comedy of Sorrows
The remedy of mirrors
Jumbeline:sin and bloom
Thumbelina
Wondering dreamer
Love’s Favours Cost
Life’s flavours lost
Have Labour lost.
Treasure for treasure
Pleasure for pleasure
Leisure is treasure
The Merry Waves of Windsor
The merry knaves of winter
The merry wives have entered
The merry laptop dances
The Penchant for Tennis
The merchants now menace
The searcher for tomorrow
The researcher was followed
A Midsummer flight’s scream
A midsummer nightgown
Much Ado About frothing
How about some mutuality
Much we do about nullity
Pericles, winced at Lies
Taming of the Screw
The screws are all to blame
Their tempers are skewed
Boil us and put cress on us.
Twelfth Bite.
Healthy Frog Night
Two Gentlemen of Harmonia
A winter’s grail.
A sprinter’s tail
I feel my tail
I mean, it’s a tall tail.
Is it at all pale?
No it’s a bowl.
Plastic?
I am barred
You are a card
Give us eternal pests.Oh Lord
How my heart sings 