Monthly Archives: September 2016

Cover songs and other oddities


“Originality? It’s over-rated at best and at worst deeply limited. It’s also mis-understood. So you think that fan fiction is derivative? That the covers band that entertained the pub last night weren’t credible creative artists? That any artist working in a genre they didn’t create is simply pastiche? Seriously? I guess nothing’s original, right? There’s no point trying to come up with anything because all of the good ideas have already been explored? You know what? Fuck you! Fuck your petty bourgeois reactionary rationalism! Fuck everything you’ve ever thought! How fucking dare you tell anyone else what is valid as art? What the fuck do you think makes you judge, jury and fucking executioner over what is and isn’t original or acceptable different or worthy? I’m done with fucking arseholes pontificating on subjects about which they know precisely half of fuck all!” 

I took a swig from the dark, black, bitter, burnt coffee, swallowing the lukewarm dregs with a grimace,

“Enough already! Fucking makes me sick, bunch of fucking deeply unpleasant pricks!”

I blushed as I realised that the background volume of chatter in the coffee shop had fallen away as my rant had increased in intensity and ferocity, my vitriol overtaking any self-esteem issues just as the power and passion that inspired writers, singers, artists to revisit and recreate the glorious work of their idols and heroes, their muses overwhelms their natural instinct to try to create something unique, the dark desires awoken by a chance discovery, the need to do it again only better, harder, faster, deeper, softer whatever. I slump in my seat, drained as the adrenalin flooding my system abates. She smiles, acknowledging that she has once again coped with my outburst, coped with the strange passions and behaviours of her friend, coped with being my friend….

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Losing my friend….


The phone ringing tore me from my thoughts as I sat, head down, waiting. I knew what the phone call would be before I answered but nothing could prepare me for hearing the words, fears becoming reality as the soft voice at the other end of the connection confirmed what I already knew.

“We’ve carried out the ultrasound and the CT scan, and I’m afraid the results are as we feared. We need to make a decision on how you want to proceed while he is still under anaesthetic I think.”

The vet, a young woman in her late twenties was trying to avoid the words that were already tearing my heart apart

“There really isn’t any option, is there?” I asked, already knowing the answer

“No, the primary tumour has destroyed his spleen and there are multiple secondary tumours throughout his body, there isn’t anything that we could do other than keep him as comfortable as possible I’m afraid”

“Then I think we need to do what is best for him, and help him slip away, if you would kind enough.”

Her response broke me ;

“Thank you, it’s the right decision…do you want to come in and sit with him?”

The tears were streaming down my face as I sat on the car park wall, trying to speak, the words choked off in my throat

“I’ll be there in five minutes”

Sitting in the waiting room, trying to hold my composure, surrounded by other people bring their pets to see the vet, knowing that they would all be going home with theirs while I would be catching the bus home carrying an empty collar and lead

Who knows when….


I know something

I dont know what but I    

know something

Can I know something but not

know what I know

Who knows when
how much is

known is unknown when

I don’t know how

much there is to know or

how much remains

unknown

who knows when
knowing what when who how

where why unknowing the

meaning of the knowing but knowing 

anyway

disconnected knowledge is not 

power knowing 

who knows when