Month: August 2017

Health & Safety

BearBat&MatesS Just like pushy mothers, heartless bastards are not the sole preserve of our universe. You would not believe the con-fauna that pulullates all over the Middle Grids! As poor Liolí  the BearBat can tell you, much to his chagrin. Last night a couple of itinerant mountebanks accosted him on his way back home from the George & Orange, where we had gathered to watch the season finale of Dimension of Miracles, a spiffing space soap very laxly based on Robert Sheckley’s masterpiece, on the landlord’s brand new ultraphotonic radical-definition holobox. He was, as we all were by the time our host chucked us out, well in his cups and in a jovial, fluffy, indiscriminating mood. Which unfortunate set of circumstances the two said charlatans took advantage of and in less time that is taking me to write this, they had persuaded Liolí  that a onesie was “the” thing to own, wear and show himself in at social gatherings. And there you have it, dear reader. Now, I’m not making a case for abstemiousness, by any stretch of the imagination, but if you’re walking home, late at night and half cut, make sure you don’t do it alone. Ask Selina, the double-decker amphisbaena to walk with you. She’s immune to both high-proof alcohol and cant, hence she can spot mercenary bullshit before it turns the corner. She’ll be happy to see you safely home -as long as you let her prattle merrily on about the agonies and the ecstasies of twofold duality, with its attendant internecine contradictions, cognitive dissonances and the ensuing inner racket.


And here be a couple of ungainly creatures: Mr & Mrs Ugly, at your service. Too ugly for words, granted, but nicer monsters you won’t find this side of the Van Allen Belt, if I say so myself. I’ve attended their literary salons and poetry reading soirees many a time and I’ve always come out ethically uplifted, spiritually well fed and utterly & blissfully drunk. So there.

Demockracy 4 Beginners

ShreddedSoldiersSFitter, tougher & scarier than Weetabix! And possibly cheaper in the long run. Coming soon to a conflict zone near you -which could very well be your back garden, if ExxonMobil decides it has fracking possibilities. Or you can get them @ Amazon, no doubt, should you want to join in the fun and start your own little sordid war on some crack-brained meretricious grounds. Or no grounds at all. It seems to work nicely for most American presidents. And for Tony Blair, of course.

Matters of the Heart

SweetHomeR'lyehXSI was missing the Deep Ones, and the Deep Ones were missing me, so we got together with the Shoggies and a few kegs of Leng’s Moonshine Candy and we got a modest knees-up. We all ended up prodigiously drunk, naturally (damned Plateau pocheens…) and a tad sentimental, as you can see. Here’s to beautiful R’lyeh, then! Hic…

Antisocial Life

TheExpendablesThe Expendables. Blessed are the meek for they will be obliterated in many and varied ways, all utterly barbaric. Thus they’ll be spared the agony of seeing their loved ones being brutally raped, arbitrarily executed, casually incinerated, droned, whitephosphored, shot in the back, guantanamoed, waterboarded and ritually humiliated. And their homes razed to sheer rubble and their land poisoned for decades to come and their olive trees uprooted for the hell of it. And, to add insult to injury, blamed for their plight. So, they ought to be grateful for small mercies and shut the fuck up and stop bitching. So say the Masters of the Universe and if they say so, why, then it must be right and true and woe betide who dares say boo to them, innit?