Month: February 2023

Rites of Mid-Winter

Totem Pole 3. Here be a baroque, small but perfectly formed, chaotic Totem Pole wot’s got Biiiiiiig Juju and where everything hangs together by a hair’s breath of pure Metchik. NB. This be not the Totem Pole where the two creatures you saw in Sunny Day have supportive but crucial roles on a regular basis. That’ll be Totem Pole 2. (Continuity’s not very highly rated in the Intermediate Badlands.) Coming soon. Ish.


Sometimes It’s Fair Weather

Sunny Day. Here, have some fair-weather bliss. For aching hearts all over. The two small creatures here enjoying the environmental bonanza are just heaving a well earned break. They will soon be resuming their roles as supporting elements of a Big Juju Totem Pole currently undergoing refurbishing.


Revolutions

Spinning Fishis. The despondent fishis of a few weeks ago have decided that life is too short for this kind of gloom & doom fool’s game and have defected to the Halfway Badlands, where they have found themselves some protectors, sponsors and friends: a couple of chubby demonettes and the two Big-Nosed Wandering Heads. They are now undergoing spinning instruction. Very stimulating; very good for the soul. In between gyration bouts they chat with the BNWHs and they say “My, what a big nose you have!” “It is for to better smell the flowers, what!”, the BNWHs reply. After the storm, the calm. All is fluffy.

White Heat

Furious Flowers. aka Pre-emptive Strike. No.1
Ours is the first age in which many thousands of the best-trained individual minds have made a full-time business to get inside the collective public mind. To get inside in order to manipulate, exploit, control is the object now. And to generate heat not light is the intention. Marshal McLuhan
Things out there are getting so bizarre, so very Ligottian that I’ve decided to hang my prophet’s hat. For a while, anyway. I honestly cannot predict what They will think of next to scare the living daylights out of us peasants. Could be anything or everything. Global warming and the need to freeze, smell and live in semi darkness? (So that Las Sodding Vegas can stay lit up 24/7 like a vulgar Christmas tree and Their fucking golf courses endlessly irrigated.) Food chain collapse and the virtue of eating grasshoppers? (So that They can keep on guzzling the Krug and stuffing Their slimy gobs with organic fettuccine.) “Russian” bots taking over the internet ergo the absolute necessity to have every word we utter constantly monitored, controlled and, if need be, censured/cancelled/penalized/incinerated by the Thought Police?) A small but very loud frightful army of Shirleys (or Lorettas) imposing their Victim’s Intrinsic Virtue upon the rest of womankind? Our thoroughly justified despondency pathologized, if not actually criminalized, by the Happyness (sic) Industrial Complex and forcibly vaccinated by the Hallowed Therapies Mafias? Who knows. Your guess is as good as anyone’s.
But that’s no reason not to rant, rave and complain vociferously and denounce, indict and fume. So, here are the Furious Flowers doing just that. See them incandescent and kicking a big fuss about…anything you thing should be fair game. Plenty to choose from. All you have to do is listen to the BBC for just half an hour, (or to Lee Anderson for a mere ten minutes: see https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/may/11/tory-mp-condemned-after-blaming-food-poverty-on-lack-of-cooking-skills), or have a quick shufti at the Guardian’s “lifestyle” section and Robert Balfour is you proverbial.
I hereby attach a helpful example of Guardian piffle. (Sweet Mother of Bumba, but am I glad I’m not John Crace!)
https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2023/feb/08/standing-room-only-as-zelenskiy-delivers-a-lesson-in-leadership
Have a splendid, wobble-free week.

Stop Press. Re. The Next Big Scare. ‘ere, how about UFOs? I mean, think twice before flying a kite. It might be mistaken for a “Chinese” (or even Alien) spy balloon
Stop Stop Press. I think I will put back my Cassandra Hat. Here’s why:
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2023/feb/14/prepare-for-wave-of-extraterrestrial-sightings-in-uk-say-ufo-experts
If “They” know how to exploit this one, it could be the next Big Scare. (I said that a couple of years ago, a year into the Ukraine Panto, just as a joke, but, hey, you never know, do you? 🙂 )


Get Your Love Here!

Wee Ghosties. aka Anti-Valentine 2023. The annual Mush-Fest approaches if, just like last year, in a queerly listless manner and at a laggardly pace. Which is not surprising, given that antagonism, hostility and naked hatred are becoming the default positions all over the place. (Must be the abiding effects of all that “social” distancing bollocks that the We-The-People bought so blithely three years gone.) Anyways… That’s not stopping us from keeping faith with our own anti-shindig, except that this year, as we all feel very tired, a little lazy and kind of reticent, we have delegated the organizing and running of the blessed thing to an enigmatic entity that calls itself…The Entity, look you. It comes highly recommended by both the Shub-Niggurath and the GorgoMormo, who swear themselves blue that It is a true genius at creating and managing all sort of outrageous riots, parties, shows and other social events. Now, we know that the ineffable Shubby is many things but not exactly reliable in her assessments, but her rating of this particular creature is backed by the beautiful GorgoMormo, who is. So we are all half agog with anticipation and expectation and whatnots and well disposed to like anything said Entity throws at us as long as we don’t have to lift a finger, tentacle, pseudopod, encephalopod, forcipule, feeler, antenna, claw or whatever Nature (or Chaos) has been kind enough to endow us with. Kudos to Idleness! We will be carried to the secret venue by a specially licenced Byakhee procession. You’re all welcome, of course, if you can find the invites -soon to be deposited in the as yet undisclosed dead-drops- by yourselves. I’d suggest a few burnt offerings to Hypnos and a special postulation to Great Cthulhu. Love, vodka, cupcakes and grooviness to all!


Voynich No More…For Now

Voynich4. And here’s the last of the series…for the time being. There’s another small half dozen in the vaults but they can wait. Stay spiffing.


Still Voynich

Voynich5. More of that Voynichy stuff. Please note how Bubbles has dyed her bulk pink to accommodate the harmonies. She’s such an adaptable, obliging creature, she is.