songofcopper: (idiots with guns. (Man from UNCLE))
Good lord, I think there's something in the air - or perhaps the water. Something Springlike, some hint of Pan. Flicking through the local paper today in search of articles relevant to my workplace (one of my duties is to cut these out and stick them in a folder - exactly the right sort of soothingly simple task you want on a Friday morning after a dreadful night's sleep!), I noted the following two tales.

Tale the first: a man walks into a shop... so far so mundane. Unfortunately, this man was naked. More unfortunately still, he approached a member of staff whilst in this dangly condition and requested... some hair remover. (The paper did not disclose whether he expected the shop assistant to help him apply it there and then.) The man was arrested for indecent exposure, which presumably means he wasn't that hairy in the first place.

Tale the second: a man (a different man, not our non-hirsute friend cited above) removed all his clothes and climbed naked on to the high altar in the Cathedral. Excuse: "I want to get nearer to god." (So apparently, standing on a table in yer birthday suit is the way to do that...?) Sadly, this miscreant rather spoiled the farce by going on to assault an elderly woman on his way out of the place - from which I assume that his ruse to approach the Divine didn't work too well. :-/ Psychiatric assessment was recommended for this fellow - sighs of relief all round.

Tale the third, now... this was not in the paper; this I witnessed with my own eyes. At the railway station, going to catch my train, I spotted a man dressed as... a carrot. (Pause, to allow the mental image to sink in...) Not only that: he was carrying a real carrot, rather reverently, as if it were sentient, in his hand. (Go on - have another pause, on me.) Immediately, I thought: "This must be a stag do - right?" - but the fellow appeared to be on his own. My imagination wants to feel that he was invoking the spirit of the sacred root, but I have a feeling there may have been alcohol or money or both involved. Still - it takes all sorts, I suppose: exhibitionists, religious maniacs and vegetable-shamans included.

On days like this, I feel so boring!!

P.S.: patchy internet service and maniacal writing jag have kept me away from here for a few days. Comment catch up time is indicated, I feel - please excuse my truancy! :-D
songofcopper: (Sparks - Big Beat)
What is this? All on a dingy December morn, sometime in eighteen-ninety-something, here's a befogged street corner, illumined by the orange hue of Cosmé's poppy-blazoned blouse.

DSCF3134
Must adjust hat to louche angle before venturing forth to sell scandal sheets to wannabe aesthetes.

A street corner? Not a nice place for a well-brought-up article of the Cosmé type, surely!

But Stay: "Extra! Extra! Read all about it," the creature cries.

Ah, that's what it is: the dear thing has found a little job! Well, you know, 'The Haut Boy's Own Paper*' shan't sell itself (and neither shall Cosmé, before you say such a thing, thou slyness!). [*This estimable organ may perchance be an ancestor of 'Cor Anglais!' mag.]

Op-Art-Nouveau )

In Other News, one of our regular Thursday bookshop customers (our Pop.Cult. aficionado) tipped me off that there was a copy of Sparks' self-titled debut lp in the record shop next door. (Pedants, sit down: yes, on its first release it was Halfnelson's self-titled debut lp, until Halfnelson changed their name to Sparks and re-released the album.) It's a weird record, with a sort of warped-calliope, demented-cute air.

DSCF3139
The band photo gives you a clue - Russell (2nd left) looks sweet in his sailor suit but Ron (far left) has evil-clown hair and kohl-rimmed eyes.

Cheerfully-Defiant Eccentricity )

Flim Flam

Tuesday, 19 March 2013 12:06
songofcopper: (disdainful domination!)
How was your weekend? Did you have an exciting adventure? Did you discover something, or forget or remember or buy or sell or drink or kiss or or or...?

Me, I was very, very tired. I stayed indoors and watched films. (Adventure-outsourcing, one might say.)

Of course, that wasn't all I did - I noticed an interesting phenomenon. Sleep deprivation can, in small doses, unlock a glittering portal in the brain - granting access to that plush and chintzy backstage area of your mind that you always suspected was there, Beyonce-ready with a white velvet chaise longue, Laurent-Perrier on ice, scent-organs wafting calming vanilla-musk, flunkeys AND lackeys, and a solemn shirtless long-fingered youth whose sole purpose is to perform shiatsu and look decorative, whilst his twin brother grooms your pedigree Pomeranian... hotcha!

It's nice there until the inevitable Diva Meltdown that will happen past a certain point of insufficiency in the Arms-o'-Morpheus dept.

In other words, I suspected that I couldn't function well for long on slightly less than half the recommended nightly allowance of sleep, but have now proved it empirically. Thus, the weekend required dedicated, focused laziness - and a mental screensaver (movies work well) to sluice away the Byzantine* excesses of the zzz-starved thoughtmode. [*Avoid this word, by the way, when your brain is tired, along with all others that seem to have so many alternative pronunciations!!]

Moral: I've never tried cocaine*, nor am I likely to do so, but perhaps lack-o'-zzz is a cheaper, less sticky option anyway. The overall effects appear to be rather similar. Someone needs to tell all celebratties. [*Or any of those other sugar-or-talc-substitutes, nor even baccy, of the plain or patterned kind. With my constitution, boring old oxygen is quite enough of an oooh. Having said that, I did chew coca leaf in Peru. But only cos the air woz rare, innit?]

But I sense that you may not like to know all this gnonzense, and all upon a Tuesday morning too, so let us draw across a line of dainty dots and Move On!
* * * * *

Now then, where was I...?

Oh yes, Films. Or indeed Flims, as they are called in this house. (No word is ever safe. Even the DVD turns into a VDV, which sounds more interesting than it should.)

"You fucking broke my sitar, motherfucker!" )

"You fucking stole my cocoanut, motherfucker!" )

"You fucking entombed me in molten gold, motherfucker!" )
songofcopper: (Da Zess!)
I read this article just now, on how people's judgements on others' taste in music affect their relationship choices.

Enjoy your free cheese! :-D )
songofcopper: (Da Zess!)
I read this article just now, on how people's judgements on others' taste in music affect their relationship choices.

Enjoy your free cheese! :-D )
songofcopper: (rrrrred)
This morning at 12.56 a.m., there was an earthquake!

I didn't feel it myself, but I swear I *dreamed* there was an earthquake.  So imagine my smugness when I heard the news this morning!  Either I did feel it (but was too fast asleep to process this information) or perhaps I am MILDLY PSYCHIC. ;-)  Indeed, it puts yesterday's rodent-related dream in perspective!! ;-)

Well, all I can say now is that I am agog to know what will befall us next.  In the Summer we had appalling floods.  Now this new cataclysm.  Next stop, a plague of rodents, probably. ^_^

And I may not reeeeeaaaalllly be psychic, but may I be permitted to predict that certain tabloid hacks are right now this minute sharpening their pencils (or possibly doing pre-typing warm-up finger exercises) in readiness for nine months' time, when I fear we may be presented with stories about babies being conceived at the very moment of Seismic Shimmy.  I doubt whether the headline writers will be able to resist some variation on the theme of 'Did the Earth Move for You?'. ;-)

If this were a horror movie, as opposed to boring old Real Life, perhaps the said infant would turn out to be the Spawn of the Very Devil!  Did you know, people, that the village of Holton cum Beckering (!!  Yes, really!  You couldn't make it up, could you?  It sounds like some sort of primitive deviancy!  Er, apologies to the good Christian folk of Holton cum Beckering.), the epicentre of the quake, is positioned directly over a HELLMOUTH??!!  (Again, my most fulsome apologies to the good Christian folk of Holton cum Beckering.)

Of course, every filmic baddie needs to be vanquished by someone suitably young, groovy, whip-smart, toned and hot.  Someone with most very excellent baddie-dispatching powers, and an aspirational wardrobe to boot.  Not to mention a goofy, less fashionably-dressed sidekick, with appealingly bad hair, who gets all the best lines, and whom we all secretly fancy. ^_^

Casting suggestions anyone??

[UPDATE!  What did I tell you?!  The Sun speaks the truth as usual!!  My friends, it is only a matter of time...]Click here to read the inevitable... )
songofcopper: (rrrrred)
This morning at 12.56 a.m., there was an earthquake!

I didn't feel it myself, but I swear I *dreamed* there was an earthquake.  So imagine my smugness when I heard the news this morning!  Either I did feel it (but was too fast asleep to process this information) or perhaps I am MILDLY PSYCHIC. ;-)  Indeed, it puts yesterday's rodent-related dream in perspective!! ;-)

Well, all I can say now is that I am agog to know what will befall us next.  In the Summer we had appalling floods.  Now this new cataclysm.  Next stop, a plague of rodents, probably. ^_^

And I may not reeeeeaaaalllly be psychic, but may I be permitted to predict that certain tabloid hacks are right now this minute sharpening their pencils (or possibly doing pre-typing warm-up finger exercises) in readiness for nine months' time, when I fear we may be presented with stories about babies being conceived at the very moment of Seismic Shimmy.  I doubt whether the headline writers will be able to resist some variation on the theme of 'Did the Earth Move for You?'. ;-)

If this were a horror movie, as opposed to boring old Real Life, perhaps the said infant would turn out to be the Spawn of the Very Devil!  Did you know, people, that the village of Holton cum Beckering (!!  Yes, really!  You couldn't make it up, could you?  It sounds like some sort of primitive deviancy!  Er, apologies to the good Christian folk of Holton cum Beckering.), the epicentre of the quake, is positioned directly over a HELLMOUTH??!!  (Again, my most fulsome apologies to the good Christian folk of Holton cum Beckering.)

Of course, every filmic baddie needs to be vanquished by someone suitably young, groovy, whip-smart, toned and hot.  Someone with most very excellent baddie-dispatching powers, and an aspirational wardrobe to boot.  Not to mention a goofy, less fashionably-dressed sidekick, with appealingly bad hair, who gets all the best lines, and whom we all secretly fancy. ^_^

Casting suggestions anyone??

[UPDATE!  What did I tell you?!  The Sun speaks the truth as usual!!  My friends, it is only a matter of time...]Click here to read the inevitable... )
songofcopper: (pixel me)
I had the most revolting dream last night.  I’m not even sure I should write it down, it was THAT BAD.  There was *rodent-killing* in it – and I don’t mean Tom and Jerry style!

Ugh!!

But in sunnier news, I had an Idea this morning, whilst walking to work.  An Idea for an INVENTION.  (I get these, regularly, but unless I write them down I tend to forget them…)  My *Significant Other* was telling me about a nasty B.O.-related experience he had had, sitting in enforced close proximity to someone who apparently hadn’t found the time to have a bath this century.  So I had to suggest a plague-helmet – one of those beaky things stuffed with fragrant herbs, which people who were afraid of catching the plague used to wear, in the hope that the mighty herbs would filter the evil miasma.  Of course, this would work for bad smells, but you might get a few odd looks on the bus.

So, how can we bring this device slap-bang into the 21st Century?  Make it discreet and portable, stylish enough to wear at parties?  Well, how about a personal aroma player, kinda like an iPod, only, let’s call it an iSmell.   Or, more accurately, a uSmell.  Instead of putting the tiny plastic blobs in your ears, you put them in your nostrils.

Can’t you just see this catching on??!  Obviously we will all have to buy attachments for our computers, filled with all sorts of essential oils/synthetic fragrances.  Then we will go to www.isniff.com to download the recipes for the particular smell we want to add to our library.  And we will load it into the uSmell and go merrily on our way, wreathed in neroli or fresh bread or Chanel No.5.  Maybe we can show off our good taste and hipness by comparing recent smell-lists at aromaf.m.!  We must of course watch for people trying to sell us dodgy smells, such as glue.  And people of taste will avoid those icky celebrity smells they keep advertising.  (No, Paris!  Britney!  No!!!)

No?

Ah well – perhaps it’s all a little too Brave New World. ;-)

[edit: hahahaha!  Lookit!  Someone has beat me to it!!  iSmell ]
songofcopper: (pixel me)
I had the most revolting dream last night.  I’m not even sure I should write it down, it was THAT BAD.  There was *rodent-killing* in it – and I don’t mean Tom and Jerry style!

Ugh!!

But in sunnier news, I had an Idea this morning, whilst walking to work.  An Idea for an INVENTION.  (I get these, regularly, but unless I write them down I tend to forget them…)  My *Significant Other* was telling me about a nasty B.O.-related experience he had had, sitting in enforced close proximity to someone who apparently hadn’t found the time to have a bath this century.  So I had to suggest a plague-helmet – one of those beaky things stuffed with fragrant herbs, which people who were afraid of catching the plague used to wear, in the hope that the mighty herbs would filter the evil miasma.  Of course, this would work for bad smells, but you might get a few odd looks on the bus.

So, how can we bring this device slap-bang into the 21st Century?  Make it discreet and portable, stylish enough to wear at parties?  Well, how about a personal aroma player, kinda like an iPod, only, let’s call it an iSmell.   Or, more accurately, a uSmell.  Instead of putting the tiny plastic blobs in your ears, you put them in your nostrils.

Can’t you just see this catching on??!  Obviously we will all have to buy attachments for our computers, filled with all sorts of essential oils/synthetic fragrances.  Then we will go to www.isniff.com to download the recipes for the particular smell we want to add to our library.  And we will load it into the uSmell and go merrily on our way, wreathed in neroli or fresh bread or Chanel No.5.  Maybe we can show off our good taste and hipness by comparing recent smell-lists at aromaf.m.!  We must of course watch for people trying to sell us dodgy smells, such as glue.  And people of taste will avoid those icky celebrity smells they keep advertising.  (No, Paris!  Britney!  No!!!)

No?

Ah well – perhaps it’s all a little too Brave New World. ;-)

[edit: hahahaha!  Lookit!  Someone has beat me to it!!  iSmell ]

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This journal is not a private diary, it is more like an occasional, imaginary column. Therefore, much of it is on public display. However, if you want to read my occasional attempts at creative writing, my Caution Elf tells me I should only show that stuff to my friends. You know what to do. :-)

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