nearly.... five thousand a day and you get the biggish long read... direct emailers can get it advanced copy...for free

Not that anyone ever dares

"intergenerational justice"

now the role of the very very ridiculously good stamina non-action-hero person my age group, who has managed to tolerate what really is only contempt - yes it is i know the definition of Illusionistaism... the more spadey version, and the more 'spiritual adjacent one gets which deosn't mean a load of very-townies strutting around The Source  (twinned with Narnia) who can't even keep their own river swimmable for someone who loves going swimming which is what swimming in rivers was always called, in an unecessary wetsuit, to keep the plastic out  of ones pores never mind the total toxicity which surely is a splendid metaphor for their whole gig...if that ain;'t enough i see it on their faces every day.... even the occasional one who makes it up to the hills despite ALL their 'ills'....utter alone wanness ... all that 'onness' or even 'nonduality' - i can't remember where we are in that one fatty McGilchrist versus whoever else is Sheldrakeing around saying nothing except

 i am, cos i smile, cos of the scotch...

does such damage.. that is what 'wan' means.... paleface, no blood left even to gurgle at themselves..

self-vampirism, ooh thats rather good and i am in a hurry i MUST keep my battery for ME for a bit...

died of being the one...

(environmentalism / small scale farming which is contemporaneous no Toty tart Can ever think never mind advisor to the Minister of it, all early summer i had to tolerate her... requires a COUPLE to be a functional economic unit - taking turns mucking out the pigs...or even muck the vegan  carrots [deliberate word play I'm sure Toties know carrots don't like it one of the few species that go curly in the wrong places when faced with it]..... the personal in personal places,  rather than PAndy's imaginary Utopian ones where Shabana locks 'em all up  for hurty words - uk's splendid family policy for some decades... interestingly reversed recently but still i bet they still try to... is a PRErequisite for even fine 'regenerative' farming...  him indoors figuring the rotations her outside doing them.. rotate... unless of course she MUST go to the 'care' job... 

so as to afford to pay for the 'care' of their elders...

CARER NUMBER 2 told me superb stories about this we must leave her on the shelf for now because nine months its taken me to get her to loosen up and when i succeeded my my the damn broke " you are right...it may pay my bills but it is frankly evil and unsustainable - a rediculous drain on the tax bills of the youngers too...... because.... "

 which i have known years as if you are in 'green' politics you must know because rather than spend cash just protecting a BIT of it it all gets spent on paying out for what in Europe they wouldnt dare to subcontaract to the state as  its below their dignity ..(largely), to be so stupid and create an obviously unsustainable schema that just gets thrown down the road at the younger generation 

Anywa i certainly never ever pick on anyone and anyone 35 or younger is never to be even cheekily jibed about...

Not only have the most greedy generation ever - retaining a FAR higher proportion of national wealth than even Ghengis Khan managed for his buddies I'm sure, they also conned a whole next generation down, by not telling them: now god is largely put on the shelf...now racism largely rolled back...  we can now PROGRESS a ;little further... which was possible in the 1960s  bigtime... and yet all we have is a slide backwards in many ways which is not an inalienable certainty as getting god OUT of the picture was a first ever, Star Times thing .... upon which we could have carried on actually building sanity ...egalitarianism and all those boring simple things the science says 100%  better life expectancy just for example, for the most peeps...  (even if maybe with rather a  lot more house-share, which also is SO good for your life expectancy so the science says, they being immune to science in Dooneshire...and all The MArcheshire...)

all utilitarianism is.  

anywya part 1 of something that needs to be far more elegantly turned intoa  screen play as he really is magnificent..

I think she would be too....

character is the ONLY hope - but it must be authentic... and the only 'hope' is that yes the youth generally can smell a rat

(unless he is a Rat who thought he could match Stevie on the 'extension of himself bodily' , but having failed, as failures always do...became so so sour he put around false medical data, which is what the word 'narcissism' is too, as i say "unless you have a Broadmoor doctor's assessment and second opinion  from one that did at least one serial killer, as its such a hard science that of diagnostic labels, please keep your vile disgusting medical   defamations about others to yourself.."  which would shut the fuck up all of Totnes with shards of Alices Lookinglass jammed up its horrid dumb little tight ass, with merely a Narnia stuck in it so as to cork up the shit thats ruined everything... everywhere,,and always will as they knew even in the times of Pendle which I'm quite sure was far more sex equality than made out and plenty of blokey witches were used as firelighters too  

Bottom PP5 of many 

 TOP - pp 1

carer #2, a whole book on her words coming up one day " you're right.." daring to stand at my open window at dusk in a backroad no one can hear you scream

" and let me tell you about my sister a perfect example...'as a nipper and then the government want HER to go out to work so as to pay someone else loads of cash to pay to care for her nipper... its daft.."

Well what's daft is in Affluenza  published 2007 said exactly that, was indeed extremely prominently featured in the dodgy Beeb for several years, including the bits " and if you ship em off to a nursery before about age 4ish then you are actually infecting them with space dust -  the very toxic type as it statistically does damage their mental health, and  lifetime chances..." but nobody listened even BBC Woman's Hour to what was on the same channel rather a lot on their topic: there being no such thing as any autonomous 'woman' - refer to fab evo biol Heather Heying, prof.. until Brett made her even madder and all she do is moan about some 'cancellation' about a century ago..   especially when it comes to children and society  who no matter what the BBC may think (radio play friday afternoon quite quite extraordinary you would think men CANNOT exist any more, errata fathers )  nobody not even the Mormons can actually hide a child from the meme/concept that there are male people who often are fathers, even in faery tails...and thus in a  child's mind they will always be there somewhere ..as a potential input no matter how many lesbians took over the Swest...

errata, more (MY ONLY PALS in next town,  are a couple of em and i keep trying to lure one away from tother as my theyve gota  sexy vantoo, and i can't report how rude they were about a certain famous no longer with us virgin, it would probably get me word-policed, but at least they made me laugh..) 

and none of the Whitehall retirees round ear have even heard of it...funny that most working in advanced senior social departments

just shows how ON:LY 'up themselves' they all were always... on your taxpayer cash

as that one alone is going to cost the next generation even more of THEIR cash...  wiping up the decades of mess made by those who have had broken attachments..

thats not a tech term its been known for decades as the foundation of jolly ok mentul elf, and physical... and if you kicka  kid out into some others arms...without extremely long handovers - of many months as James found....you really do fuck em up...  badly

And that New New LAbour have since Jezza went (voted for by the yoof as they smelt his trusted grandad AUTHENTICITY) is jerrymander " you can send your kids to criminally abusive stateaided  abuse factories,  even younger  - at least 50% on average, this new century,  than EVER before, by far.. thirty hours a week for free.." if i were  35 i really would want to write that book on exactly why there should be an actual non violent but real revolution...as sadly even Jezza didn't have the balls...

Now, public service announcement, to one private communicant

 Lil' Miss "Can i ask you a  question..? about how to get into walking..."

 Its just SO nice to be asked a question.

And few are given my url.... you never know.

Part 2 as always everyone has places to be so be it...

THE one and only piece of equipment: 

Having spent a  decade joshing my my once friend who sold them,  in Kington, yet rarely used them in her real life...

YET another piece of performative plastic, fucking up the planet,  at 100 quid for the latest snazzy pair of 'walking poles' are not only likely to do you more harm than good if you trip over your own...

but steal from the necessary bodily skill that will always develop, balance. Only exception of you are climbing Everest or maybe have a back pack of 20 or so killos or more.

How.... ever, THE one most unfashionable doesn't look good in the India Jones snaps, is in fact what no one is down to earth enough to ever figure any more: how to save on all those damp tops, and drips down into your backpack...

a brolly.

But it all comes down to class. If 'laptop class' then usually ones every other day 10km can be fitted in around work, and the weather: jolly good no rain for a while off i go... no need to take brolly or waterproof coat or worry about the rains..

If in 9-5 five  days a week class of course one may have to grab ones afternoon walking on a day that's manky, and almost always  the following applies: if possible big fat showers, almost always one can stand under  a tree if caught out....or if its more than 20knots and the brolly will get hurricained away..

 but almost always showers pass or if one is caught out in even an hour at less than 20knots... its extraordinary how useful a brolly is - small collapsible if its only going to be 15ish knots no more... any more up to about 25 in truth a bigjob is nicer, and can usually be borrowed for free from church porches some lovely old thing forgot theirs ...     (cos they dont walk enough my my it does the head good too, dodging the rains and all that)

and if you mjst can double as your walking stick if you havent bothered to train yourself to be a goat and walk in moccasins as did Lucas in his best ever non-walking, walking book, Uttermost...., or plimsoles

and about the only thing the towny neurotics of the weather centres  - especially BBC  can't overforecast (it seems to get worse by the year) as it is remarkably scientific -  them isobars, is the windspeed. 

 

and my ohh my the aggro they save you,  drying off the fancy weather'proof' jacket that isn't quite as proof as it pretends...

is quite lovely...in fact keeps you walking for longer  - being less damp-dribble-dispirited, all nice and dry under your brolly,  so you end up with a bum like mine...

But you won't find one in the India/na Jones catalogues or the ridiculous rip off 'outdoor gear' stores... as they don't look good in the catalogues or ads...

and in fact careful usage (the technique of turning them into a 25er of course so as not to damage)  i usually get at least five years out of mine...often a decade.

and they can even be weaponised if the (fake)witch of Herrock Hill turns on you as she did in ehhh... 2018 if my memory serves...

which is why its sometimes useful, only if a man is this necessary,  to take protection with you .... if you can't get your own pocket witch, to walk hand in pocket in tandem... then ..

well, someone knows how i protect myself....

even on the hills... 

And it has been splendid duel purpose - tells a story of these lands you won't read in some Toty compliant fake book of lay line liars or good vibration addicts...... when they went bad on even Herrock. (proper middle of nowhere) . that was 'the day the music died'; here, an irrelevant little bit of suburban string pluckery... the proper big job one already twangin' a very discordant scary sound long ago...

to be cont

 

your world. Change it!

Ignore unless you are the superfan sniffin' up my bot

  (to think I'm several weeks behind, i kid you not)

and rest on every word.

bot to top, it's at it again... weird such supersignal in here today, almost as if otherworldly, ordained

errata don't ignore yet, as i have to merge two posts

simply because of the time factor

Decades of mine they lost.

Except 'the technique'.

Now i have to get out of this mode, 

as there's a lil' rainbow at the end of one road...

and it requires clearest conceivable English communication.

Never mind my few trusted are all of other nations.

Thank you (break a leg as they say i know it's some ineffable Trumanian mania...act, but who know=s why or who's got their mitts on the ivories )

 There you go you do forget your 'story' or just simplest Trip Advisories...

This endless ashramian eyes thing

i know who's puppet on a string

not me

Most of life, meandering ideally very quiet lanes.

The key to walking is park up somewhere (safe which is hard in Swestershire as even Poshville has endless "pikeys" scaling their garden fences

for whatever they can pinch for drug cash or fence

And i really do decry every day how horrid it is to be in such a place

But exiting a motor fairly safely parked, some small lil' town caing the joint

least likely spot to have a brick in the glass and your stuff nicked for loot

The key to walking is making sure one parks up in a place where very soon after exit there's nothing much human

going almost entirely into the humanfree landlopeing zone

My very most enjoyed activity

Knowing the byeways with very least passing traffic, ideally

(thats two an hour, at most three)

But of course one sometimes must traverse via one or other a bit worse

maybe one vehicle every few minutes

BUt a whole life of knowing exactly how sane countrymen behave

narrow lanes (you hear them from at least a few hundred metres no need to panic

anyway the walker has right of way, and you march on until theres a space between nettles to nestle)

BUT..of all rural highway codes of sanity, honour, decency.  or legality

there is one time immemorial genuine danger

a vehicle,  towing almost any kind of trailer

the walker squashed into the hedge so as to let them pass freely

but will obviously as s/he sees their rear end come into the peripheral

vision, relax, danger squeezed by, coast clear for all

NOT know that the 'TRUCK' is towing a trailer, almost always a foot wider

that might slowly creep by a split or even full second after

and unless walker knows it is coming, maybe impossible if into the hedge looking

mangle them so bad they end up in a hearse!

Now... every single other place i have ever wandered, every single farmer or whatever reason to be yankin some trailer up into them hills via the narrowest of byeways

know the above. Is born with it in them: if pulling trailer, you'll have to take double extra health and safety thoughtful care and paid attention

or you'll be looking at a license suspension

never mind ... bugger up reputation...

Except this whole county.

Even worse than that of the Pasty!

I bet you it has some kind of anthropological psychogeographical cause and effect being too close to Toty...

But no historian will ever know

the 100% propogandised bad travel writing, false heritage, show...

doesn't let real people real lives even be known .... and try speaking of just child-lethal traffic, it's as if you're trying to steal their succulent, overpriced doggie's, bone 

That's a point she was going to be top of my re'connect' list today

and she phoned first..... 

 

 

 

Now never mind the Ai that isn't even man enough

to 'hallucinate' all these silly Sam Harissianists so fixated upon, as just a passing phase, and 'solution' to all your mentul ways

(the Gwerk adjacent one near three years ago FAR more interesting selling her super'mush'y coffee at £12 a pack, merely of a biggedup dozen...

not even 'aware' that her advertorial social media featured of course guess whom....

him. Main face of the socially mediated PR job disgrace of a con

Gabor.....so chummy smiley all the whiley, hetoo, the mushcafe will be on,

meanwhile, her lasses she couldn't even manage to find an obvious (offered, bridging) solution to their default-to, false allegation if any man would ever enter her small ...holding.

Whist 'holding space' for their pin ups, fraudulent  face. 

  Anyway thing is, a few decades back every single semi sane adult knew when they were conning the rest with PR marketpeak

Not any more....  it's 'embodied' into not 'me' and 'it'

But i 

thats not very clever but at least I aint Ai

as AI never ever could word-slant..

or paint a picture, soon, via one Miss Spelled but so often said, word.

or create out of Utter dsidain:

turn dagger eyes, or their use of a rope around the only one you ever cared for's neck, into something free of any pain - 

merely universal, time immemorial, rubbish philosophy  

Deepl i think is now about a decade old

and i certainly wouldn't bother trying ever to write in Indonesian..having passed through long ago

(another story from along time ago, on the way to being ALMOST certainly 'rooffied' even then, 

by a so smiley anglophone Australian

guess what, even when there's loads of circumstantial evidence, you never know, unless i guess you get the swabbing done....

best generally just to move on)

Anyway (i don't ever stick it in centrally justify 

even Oggle 'services' sixteen years on, go and think for themselves,  

i wonder why)

Had one not noticed, always leaving it on, sadly but not really, translate from  "English" 

it decides othewise

good job i've got very sharp eyes.

 

what a fun word, 

ohh yes merely to remind me, not my thing I'm a one woman chap

but  yes their whatever it says above, "subsidised  by the local authority..."

Of course to English eyes one never knows how they may react

"splendid laiissezz faire... if you live there"

or some " well of course, that explains their revolting foreign bangers

all too busy group at-it, in the local hanger"

rather than a simple understanding of what Voltaire's enlightenment actually was: almost anything other than what established (partly papist) church, said.

Other than the splendid simple kindof of obvious 'morality',

don't tell porkies 'bout your neighbour, 

or gossip 'bout the boat half way down the harbour.

Anyway brings me to so much to even begin to add in.

 

Especially as ...what was the great line " having left a mere spotty teen, i no longer know my native tongue... and thirty years over here, am honest enough to know the depth and nuance  of your lingua franca, to become really fluent takes too long.."

which is 100% correct,  and why i was too stupid-arrogant-limey to bother much with any other European tongue.

Simple fact that it really is a lifetime to have every real nuance

 of that they speak even in France

And also you do actually have to work with them 

and do other things with them...

Longterm, to ever have a real chance of getting all the REAL-life deviations from the dictionary norm...

And the problem always was which of these splendid far more at ease in their own skin, societies, do i chose?

 

Anyway maybe i can update or set in stone

something about which i never moan

but could, as it's the daily grind

I just don't speak Swestern or any of this Lowlander kind

of language that has taken them back to the stone ages

Just as Dark Ages as in fact the official Dark Ages never really were

All concocted in De Bottie's little meditation class

or Totnes  how-to-have-a-permanent-lanyard

without ever troublin' the dark place up your ass

by hurty hurty pullin' it out, even in the hot yoga yard.

No we are all expected to have only embodied every chameleon

discarded scale of pay-as-you-go, by donation, unskin

an actual human having one rather less thin.

Anyway all their words (at least now eight or ten

from lost lamby to sound mother hen)

do agree has ruined more than the language

but all coherent even Kaetempestuous society

   

Me i just refuse to use it, the WuwujujunotmeYOU

language,  but do always find bridging words, 

that say the actual thing they mean, alternatively and not to hurt.

But no even that's not good enough

No point....

I was raised  in a  language that no longer exists.... 

 

and haven't bothered learning others any as my nana boatharbour

for intellectual reasons, of many years listening to show-off Englishmen (always [m]) putting out fake modesty about how they can't quite speak the local tongue, when in fact it takes decades to  even have the first idea of what she means with it, really.

Which in fact is equally a matter bodily.

And i do not mean double entendre smuttily

all words are a mere part of a whole mind body action

interaction. And also a cultural knowledge, such as one knows its impossible for the English one to change her mind. 

Other peoples by living what matters among them

Not so.

Many Europeans laugh at no meant (NONsexually)no, when in fact along along it meant, lets see... what happens.

Which if you ask me is a sign of splendid healthy psichiatry,

hidden behind the, i was hope it was going to be gangenbangen shack...

or in fact more likely, library...

as reader on the 6.27

Ove

Pereira

and as for Intouchable

so beautifully also tell us - the national cause, and effect... 

you don't end up in Jojo's Zurich..one way

Anyway the notion that with a  specialist company  very diligently working away fora  decade to try and get Deepl to do what it says on the can..

but can't

reliably

... lets just say one must feel sorry for the poor little latest-hyped up generation, the con started with ours...." Wordperfect will.... one day be bug-free..."

laughable.... sure it may be in a decade or so.... 

but that's a long time to wait until ...

to be cont

NOW....will this one at last be the end of the rainbow..?.. 

a 'smallholding' of unicorns all tailswishy gaily

trottin' around and no motor sound

i know where i wouldn't mind spending a month stationary.

we shall see.

 

Roundup...well it was going to be... (Wussy not wokey, and why)

two audio files

made yesters

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1sqD2Kg1AinriddrSXKcRt6yClJUd0RrM?usp=sharing

DRAFT notes more later i haven't got the rubbish gig Mister HArris has so i can't afford elves to listen to him and make proper menu lists of him saying nothing that EVER 'helps'

 part 1  - why even one of the very few partly sane YANKS is sadly lost to his machinery....

part 2 WHY 'woke'? and why we should have proper understanding of WHY!  - your awful stupid Katie Hopkins, never mind rediculous Triggernometry and all these awful silly men, and some babes even Meghan,  simply could never understand,  even my rare brexit-ear allowed in to my inner circle of nobody can't listen, (as she  still has some of her mind left) loses her   mind, whenever any woke matter mentioned...  can't speak in such a way that OLDSCHOOL simple humanity has had for centuries, how to sort it out...understand 'them' even the "they/them"...  which is a historical  lead pipe whether its been lopped off or a plastic one  added in, will eventually be ripped out as the toxin it always was....

 as all they -  the under 35s from about 2010, can think of is small things and thats understandable... and i noticed it.... 

One should UNDERSTAND...empathise, with those who went 'inside' into small things that  they became neurotic about.... for UNDERSTANDABLE reasons...

(the least of them being Mrs English,  Asma Al-Assad's  husband's   delightful rather large... google 'assads barrel bombs'

  how interesting you don't hear about THAT in your news ....

or on BBC Babes Hour any more https://theweek.com/syria/83670/calls-for-syrias-asma-al-assad-to-lose-her-uk-citizenship and all i was looking up was 'assad's british PR firm... based in Chelsea if memory serves me right....oops no

google  The PR firm Brown Lloyd James was paid $5,000 per month by the Assad family to act as a liaison and help manage the public image of Syria's first lady, Asma al

and you see it's  just round the corner from the sad little ex drug dealing status  car obsessed little cigar munching   Iti who used a young woman to burnish his image, too.....)

now in AI ruined substack free audio

as the AI botts colonised it from midwinter  faking 'likes' 

i don't need anyone to like me, as i know i am right

and furthermore why it mattered as a bit of wussiness blown up into something it never was, did give Mister Trump a lot more votes..

as it will Nigel ...unless you get with the REMEDY program. Me

Saying exactly what i have been for a decade to even so called intellectual 'green'ery...

and of course her of the Barry Trotter fantasy rubbish too thick to even stop and thinktoo...

UNDERSTANDING ‘WOKE’ was the obvious answer, the wussy wank*ers of so called ‘heterodox’ ‘new media’ were too pumped up to ever bother thinking of, as THE solution to it.

PART 2 see post https://www.ralphschism.com/2026/08/roundupwell-it-was-going-to-be-wussy.html

https://ralphschism.substack.com/p/understanding-woke-was-the-obvious?r=2jdt8a&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

references a book NOT about abortion  he's PLAYING with words, even if no English can understand that sentence any more, but the only book i have ever read and i wasn't going to, 'borrow',  that gets into the head so beautifully of the ones who walk into the Piccadilly brasserie

and due their  really rather remarkably abundant rather fulfilling, brassiere

and every tongue hangs out and wants a bit 'o nourishment

and how awful that is for them...  there.

But will always be a fact of life.

And he finds the solution,  (I shan't spoil the end,

 I'm your reviewer, proper-friend,

i know which cliffhangers work, 

and those that don't matter and if you get a preview, as its the journey..and philosophy, 

one can't sum up and ruin it for you, with my limited battery)

ref 2

Katie FForde ism i invented a new one!!

i had forgotten all they think about

This the £199 version

TWO VIDEOS TO AD

 (ADD IN A WHOLE COLLAGE OF PASTY PICS FROM 2023 and 4 of the most absurd showoff sports injury and training vans and signage,  and footwear collections, ever,  that even i didn't believe could exist

especially when the actual  science has said at least four years that in fact Zola Budd was 100% right and barefoot is best and gets you more brownie points with the world record top-of-the-pops chartists...even if it takes about 6 months for the barefoot foot to redadjust and reset itself back to superfaster human ) 

right i got ten times more poetically subtle nuanced content unpublished WORK to do...never mind a whole range of final 'ROUNDUP' notes i get them now...

only as its a lovely rainy afternoon

Ang on maybe I am wrong even if i never will be

 as i shall show one day maybe next week

"oi you yankee chatterboxed in data tart.... 

do something useful just for once, some modern art

make for me an artficial video ....

with Siouxsi and Nina duetting, to go ... 

that'll sort them out and blow up all their data farms

never mind give you a bit of 'unintentional' self.... 'arm" 

Now, the interviews....soon

 All i really want, just the safe space to forget them all....

Whom (i still don't know when to use their silly 'm' ) stare and, sadly even Cecile wouldn't know....

the meaning of life is, always,  ask someone who is the VERY last person on the planet you would expect to tell you anything interesting, a question...and in the Uttermost worst shithole in the planet intellectually, (the 'Welsh' border going through it infact their rugger ground paid for by the EU, in their very big snazzy hardly-used, community centre, paid for by the EU,  even if they weren't very grateful and voted ferk off 'n die....    and let him speak into your interviewing machine... four years ago.

Even if i need to break free of timeline, now, as not one thing has changed in twenty years... 

(other than what's in the hillock walk of an audio yesteraft if i remember) 

And you're all addicted to " but what is 'now' and datestamped 'today' ...."

as am i in a way as all i care about is showing no way does anyone ever for one second get me down...

as my daily chronicles (i only share a quickest unedited highlights)  do

Now... having established " so what do you do in Germany then...?"  they'll give a visa to any Tom Dick and Harry, except me,  as long as he has a big job...

which really even back then, 1983 or thereabouts,  to work as puddle jumping trainer, for this little ultra sick control freak Mister bouncy Fairclough ....

Every other word that came out of his (i am still traumatised by his saccharine painted on smile) horrid little mouth  - little as he was also remarkably short so i guess needed all sorts of extensions..

"well when i was in the squadron.... 

 "

[the silliest squadron ever of course as if the Ruskies even had a whiff of their noisy dick extension,  from a few thousand k away... there wouldn't be a planet left never mind his Watford two up two down  ..].." which was as the whole of HIS  Flying club and Watford knew was the only way the inadequate little shortie could get the girls to have  a drink with him in his office, all he cared for ... if he could manage to " ohh were delayed at work this evening, bad weather over The Solent,  wont be home for an hour or so... "  and get his likely rather short extension at it on the company sofa..

Anyway that's history..of such an irrelevent aisle.. (its interesting how many commentariat are joining in with me and becoming really rather rude about " what does this silly little shopping Aisle that lost it's empire 70 or 80 years ago and is bankrupt... [AND has a far higher percentage of its national debt  owned by  international  money lenders than almost any other country in the world, double that of USA i believe,,, and them foreign debt collectors may not quite as arm twistable than the one who they went to Eton with..] ..think it is..?...all it can manage is to pretend to prop up some ex comedian pumped up little prick managing to singlehandedly murder off his own people... when treaty long ago would have saved arms and their dynamited faces.. " never mind on just about any international matter.

anyway... there we were in the unused large computer room of the EU funded major 'hub'...

" well i was in fact sergeant major of the big one..i was THE guy who told THE guys when to drop THE bombs...from my lead vulcan..."

" RIGHTY HO... THAT DOESN'T IMPRESS ME ... [OOPS ACC CAP we were infact planning a joint rescue mission for his lass in a pickle having run out of Prozac in some far off land she a concert performer pianist if memory serves... which is often perfect but these 'type a' daddies all the same ferk their daughter's in the head as sure as ferrits are ferrits... so I'm sure she was sadly useless....] .. tell me THE one interesting thing about you and Mrs  Madwoman living in in Krautland... all those years...?[he still did]"

" ehhh....well in fact it is this..... we moved out of mitary fascist HQ and bought a fairly decent largeish house in a truly Disney little hamlet  - chocolate box stuff..  classic bourgeoisie VERY VERY decent neighbours everyone so perfectly behaved always a perfect 'community'.... anyway they have a large community centre very well used.... all sorts of wonderful well behaved lil' community things most days.... making perfect little knitted dolls of Saint Nicholas or whatever was on the very very organised PLAN....schedule....  map.... or .... 

" But every friday evening ...at a civilised time as many of us are middle aged... seven o'clock perraps....

" an orderly  queue would form at the way in.... 

for an evening of natural no coyness group sex ......i tell you more besrk than even their great punky Queen 

 herself could ever have brought to life on stage...."

" ahhahhh...how interesting even if not my thing... Nigel didn't mention that lil' national characteristic did ee then...

"never mind that i have to confess i didn't know, 

never mind also explaining one night in Munich long ago

with such a sweet looking really simple plain rural girl i met in a cafe one lonesome friday eve

my only 'type'....  please believe!

whom only left me most confused Monday morn 

never mind with some raw bits and mind blown"

 

 

 

oopps.... the silly men and their almost

 silly Sorbonne worthy " and Simon Cowell on his telly show is part of the 'post-modern' pastiche " or whatever cleverdick nonsense they spout on your taxpayer dosh, i mean Oglle whats the highest selling Frog song of all time " and you get this..

..which, as i know Les Grenouilles, rather well - (indeed the GREAT Cécile Le Gall, who i do hope did get into print, as she provided me with the greatest booklist ever never mind being on manoevres as a propper French "intellectuelle", who unlike ridiculous little English 'post modern' nervy things, was proud of her credentials and research méthodologie

"how did you damage your arm that i see is in a sling ?"

" ahhahhhh. well i am trying to write a book about Islam, and especially Arab men... so i have been touring North Africa several years, shagging as many of them as i possibly could.... the last one i was researching, after a few months got a little 'clingy' to say the least ... and i had to run away through the mountains to escape... i just slipped as i wasn't in mountain running practice, it's nothing... ")

It would likely take all of De Beauvoir and Sartre put together - ohh yes being French they did work together and happily fucked together to break the tedium of the work.... illegal in England..(imntentionally)

to analise if that is a surrealist thing or some other historical not very modern commentary.. on ducks

(i haven't even started on ducks)

But all i know...is how can absurdist Wikipedia call the obviously greatest Frog babe ever, 'Jamaican' as every sinew of her was made in Le Marais, or even a twilight boaride on La Seine...

And as everyone knew the moment they put her on the turntable after a Siouxsi....

France didn't quite need our punk thank you very much Monsieur Plastique...

Cos they have their own equally pure and talented shake-it-all-about, Seditionist...

Now...

 One last time, a one line, for the Yank

(was in my head at the perfect sunrise time five thirtyish)

Later.

Sundays really really shouldn't be for anything in any screen

Unless you are so plensihed with real photons 

never mind the stamina,  as if indeed better than, i wonder when i last saw ....her...?

A long time ago.

And i nearly did it... does abouth three paces count?

Who's counting anything. 

Except the truly sourest assumptions in all of history.

Now, i know as i observe... few speak with him and his "Tibetan Chikwawa [is that right does it have a k? ferkit i aint got battery time today] " 

that made him grin, and it bark.

We shared a true bit 'o real human mirth. No division via his divinity.

Which reminds me, so i have to get  this 'god' stuff now perfected, subtly, better than Chaka's wrong choice of book.

and it's no longer ...perraps....

('slight return'? ....I've never in all my life known such an interesting 'slight') 

Now you see long ago at least a decade back, in fact one and a half, i knew something.... pretty obvious, I ain't no Phd...

How to blow the fuse of their even then predicted chat gpt

Which not only would i never use, 

I know it's language abuse!
never mind their neurotic needy

 lil' conformist 'spell check' i always turn to advisory only

or ferkoff and die of not one smallest bit of other dimensionality

Cos you mere browsers couldn't possibly know the real version of Sam's 1740 Pam.....

Is in one word for fifteen years deliberately Miss Spelt

Or will it be "hotdamn" 

surely unhyphonated, if said one Boonies darkie,

all ...well, does anyone female know how to actually time travel, back, via the mere human sensory, all of them still alive

as if still in eighty seven...

 

Them lil' grasshoppers chirpin'

Even if his loving son did indeed do a better version..

Pure Kathleen Noonan timewarp inversion...

Of how for one poor son, 

'twas daddy's gone, and....

to be cont

Funny thing is a rare evening a bit of music, even watching lovely Miss Amyl and her Sniffers....

fifty years, nothing differs

Other than trying to hard, and searching for some unfindable new cleverer  'melody'

woe is me.... 

Now....when even Eton says face to face "we don't arf need one.."

And for years you've been in the wings, 

figuring which one.

And the Italian mission is underway, one day.

"practice lass... Sicilian garbage and trash all over the place.... 

"sayin' somethin' anythin' ...

"it's all just practice, even if them Cosas may get a little irate

"because all that matters, is the fish that ends up on Lil' Olive's plate"

Thing is, now i really understand.... what the issue always was, is and will forever be unless.... 

Ne fais pas de suppositions

les suppositions font de nous des imbéciles, toi et moi.

C'est une expression anglaise utile. 

Cela ne « fonctionne » pas en français.

Car en anglais, « assume » –supposer – commence par « ass ». c'est-à-dire le mot « 

l' âne »

All i know (UNintentionally), apart from a hell of a lot about the actual behaviour of the 'god'ly of ALL persuasions, on this planet now, is that not one so called 'spiritual' person has ever in my earshot even ever said, 

Tout ce que je sais (sans le vouloir), mis à part ce que j'en sais énormément sur le comportement réel des « divins » de TOUTES les confessions qui peuplent actuellement cette planète, c'est qu'aucune personne dite « spirituelle » n'a jamais, à ma connaissance, même simplement dit : 

"L'utilisation de piles rechargeables est une bonne chose pour la planète de Dieu"

And i am surely one of the poorest peeps in The West for sixteen and a half years...

And i still keep mine alive and kicking, from even twenty years back, charged up and working, until the bitter end. And only for one short phase - caused by someone else unable to think that her kids may not benefit from them, in my tin can, have i even had in my tin can, non-rechargeable batteries.

Thing is... making everything last until The End Times.... is fun, is the best part of what is never a 'Struggle' to quote the ridiculous Norwegian, it merely improves ones stamina. Always. Eventually

But it is in fact for her the ' paid friend' here, really

 

 oops wrong way round 

only 3% left on the orrid lil' thing

no time left even detypo the thing

bottom to top

now in the most wonderful August almost ever, my own always most hated month...

i had something actually survival-important to ponder a whole month ago

i clear forgot about, thank you

Aww the Tempest will say theyve been peep trafficated .. ' cept he she them.... arent seen, comfily gated.

behind yankee homeland security

cctv keepin locals at bay,

 all over The Marches for many a year while they play

grown up games, of money and land 

not ' spiritual' trickery, 

a bird settled in my  ex ' bush' 

is worth two 

or in fact two hundred 

limpwristed shamaniac hands

( i'm sure it says in their secret Harvard investor strategy  doctrine compliant, business plan ) 

 I only blame one man Mr Oxford profesor of ...

" you must be only atheist just like me"

( old man Noble doing well  of klate popularising " ehhh we got it all wrong on biology [ its so much more complex than Dicky's 1976 little bring it down to small things sick Ron'nMags adjacent  ideology] ...)  ....

far better " no one can ever know what's reality...." 

for all i know even if i insult em daily ... and never use perjorative drama queen words like 'miracle'

the unknowable lil' faery brigade are tinkerin' every full moon in the extra light 

( countrypeeps know thats all its good for)

to keep my tincan on the road

my only daily fright: 

surely it wont start or run! 

no time or cash to maintain the ferker  five years now....

its impossible it never even squeals at me

"tlc now!!....  [ cept for one 9 month phase thats  yet to be written as best ever parable how to tolerate heaven, you were always too blind too see, the useful side of, even SIMPLE life expert, me]... you will not keep on keepin' on,  on maintenance free! "

All the English can ever moan about

 clever Jungian bullshit ' shade'

 or whatever other clever duck,

life defying sanctuary glade

 they buy up

next to the immo evangelist adjacent conartist  up The Road

a metaphor for even the Amish would be proud

( tho not them, the other lot who MAKE their babes wear a hanky on their head just to drive up the streets 

in their fleets

of Stretton mobiles, movin in.... )

rather than dream, and DO

Mong that means youtoo

those magnificent, mature Serbian yoof

want to take part

in the only  inadequate solution there is still to Bee

in actual real grown up not wanky wuwu Jate ir Jae Tempest Toty

moaning about someone elses perceived supremacy

when the whole vile Bristol n Western class

never actually bothered to dream up actually bein proper full on 

fotstampy ... .party political, we claim and will WORK for  our ..democracy

 ( full interviews on Miss Taken Carl in the can a month or so)

Now..i can't 'rush' her.... (the OLD Americans)

 Is what i say to myself, meanderin' past her front door...

Always thus far a welcoming scowl

(and the untold stories well the very best one my MOST enjoyed Englishman just a few months ago me bare chested to him tittilate

scything and mowing her gardens in the heat

"   ehh up so tell me about Beverly Hills ... just back from i hear, mate..."

A fabulous obvious gay-marketeer, top ranking adman, errata brandman,

"so tell me is it still wuwu tyrrany just between you and me?"

" i was at a top admguy party just a few weeks ago

someone chatting about someone they don't know...

and all of a sudden you could hear a pin drop....

'what did he say!? ... we heard that, RETARD... get out the mop

wipe away the disgusting shitstain of a man and his banned word!

was the zeitgeist, silently....until i heard...

the first snigger, then whoop whoop! 

you mean at last! we can reclaim our fave hurty word!

perhaps at last we are emerging

from all that can't say that false hurting"

Anyway i know i can Russerrr... "whats the BEE in your fabulous unworn fancy bonnet!? i need to know

 you alone have set me aglow   

you alone are liberty

and fuck me you make me laugh

"rertard, ive got you!

is that what you think of me?!

of course i can manage to watch these films, and think in the dimension

you imply beyond my comprehension

busy, just building my kitchen...

to amuse you as Perinesque Grot, art..."

Now....so rushed it's daft

as i have no interest in 'now'

only three 'narf years ago

fuckit down there i must go

And untold stories no one can ever see

such as how  in MY Borderlands, come 2017

They came, serruptitiously

Nige's BREXIT bounce...

the nice  FORMER SOV immos in a bit of a trance

no longer sure of sanctuary

so...

so untold, begineth the real actual  new immo monstrosity

American 'evangelical' so called churches, golden visas given away like sweeties

(as they had already infiltrated Midlands so called  'Free Schools, for free

'only mutual benefit, you pay for the building and and your hundred grand visa you can have for free')

I know where they all are

and exactly how they treat their Amish babes even photo'd in Church Stretton

struttin around in the Coop as if its still the century before the last one

he never of course out with the shopping bag

too busy back at base, on zoom with the lawyers back in the mother country

figuring how they can get planning for the next charitable rewriting of history

now... nobody in uk moaning snivvelin' little journalistic remoanery  

has brought you actual reality

good for me

However...

so be it clever them.....

sneak in under the radar paid for by snake oiled anthems...

in Vudu churches (interesting how the Horrorfordshire pastorate

 are only WHITE!)

so be it let it be...

and they defrauded even real history

However... as i am only internationalist i from time to time seek even a middle aged smiley YAnk for a reality, chat

But of course so busy figuring how to get THEIR share of local authority or charitable grant

too busy for even a cuppa at Alice's restaurant

(i know their culture better than all of em put together after all my bestie called me up in Beograde that night

was their perfect childwoman,  " is it all right with you

 i trothpledge with him rather than ...well i know you do.?"

anyway so be it...

But every single one faked their entry credentials suggesting philosophic intent

or even spiritual arty ... they know how to con theioor way into this rotting tent

(Yank Elizabeth even embezzlin HAy castle from her bloke, 

divorced him for one little non QE3 poke)

But thats them, me i like real history

"So ...ehh back in your homeland do they have things like hoarding disorder neurotic little pisqueekitis?"

I would like to know reality, merely so as to have something real to pass on to our next generation who all have UNDERSTANDABLE 'my small things' - like their smells, spots and smaller things from about 2010 frights..

global warming Syria dawning....

 

Nope not one ever can ever have a real homeland conversation.." back home they even hoard their  tooths...."

 (the dead version but so lovely to see at least some brothers who collaborate rather than shoot each other, in the side... one day i shall turn something into something from which mine - yank infected,  can't hide) 

Anyway all i care about is seeming really quite one hundred percent with it, which only true 40 months in the desert-on-Wye can bring daily as if ...

to be cont down to three percent

its quite extraordinary how every one of MANy especially in swestershire yank invaders.... 

can't ever have an even slightly mature conversation about their own society

whilst stealing from this one... monestising a fantasy (ohh many an example in my chronicles, all for free)

Too temporary trite a nonculture, oops that was their Oggle which can't spell hell, their nomenclator, of course they come without one of them, either..

and then try and monetise why ours are all just not quite as they require...

in their fuckin Vudu choir...

some may call that the ultimate infection

( them ALL every one being germophobe)

of Disney

i call it just the epilogue of their awful bible, by Mister Mcarthy

anyway ehh  every lil unwoven thread i maintain in my totally sane head

The Serbian priest ( full essay soon) 

is right... ( a fragment of his fine mind, randomly i found)

but wrong in one body of christ was reborn as the only

pukka remedy

hahh hahhh my algorithm welded at exactly one hour thirty seven and a bit in

perfect art authentic, subtlety

the anti Marcher and Swestern immo song.... no One cares about those poor fat unloved Yanx...

the remedy babes of the Lowlands not stupid....

not gonna extort them with my snakeoils....  and potions and .... royal jelly fruitdrops...

or fake tango dance

most of em too fat anyway

but for the yurten field or bijou workshopspace

they can pay

as only one man dared subtly

suggest

Ians gang maybe not the last of the  " greatest"

errata  Mister fine,  i hope not dead yet, priest 

"For the English to...hoard"

 

now my  standby shitty little underclass camera

 so  awful i take the time to make sure you can see

what you can hoard and bottle so neurotically

now what else foes one ' care' about?

well obviously with such real pestilence sweeping even quietitude, aside

nobody had the time ( too busy with sortin'  SIX skips when one of the above up 'n died)

to propper care about the local environment

furthermore to the soul such sickness heaven sent

underneath fake 'caring'  facade, 

theres always some sickhead's hoarded ' vintage' leather trouser  collection, to 'care' for....first.

Its a free world. " let it be"

said my friend under our palaver tree

Thing is, twenty years ago, raising then  a new-mind ones responsibility, 

the 'artists' begin to crawl in to the asidelands, sniffing out truffles to be had,

not from ' nature' but their London mate's dying dad

who long ago had some pad

hidden away in The Marcher lands

" oohh..lower rents we can afford...

and safe tourist wanky art we can do Lord

of nothing too much like reality"

So.... as society in once only bigoted, bullneck rural fringes, which fair dinkum in a distant past did have some semblence of cooperative

and not too sexist,  just about functionality

(" he knows if he breaks down  back from the pub theres only one free taxi")

' progressed', evolved..into wonderful  enlightening ART...

the 'artists' came ( running away from the Portobello  Prozac dealer's unpaid bills,

 his nasty lil' pacifying pills

didnt work on him, either)

"great fine... some culture for our local kids!"

but then you realise, fifteen years ago this is nothing new

all they ever paint is ..fantasy

sad, as surely ' hoarding'  sickness, is such an interesting reality

big bucks innit, if anyone dared... if you ask me.

As for three years i have been telling

hundreds of pastichian  painters of a ' reality' long long gone

whats REAL 'art' Turnerworthy, 

the installation, of just how upset they are deep down when one even mentions this reedculous bucolic fantasy 

or even " hey ...dickhead Grayson Perry

on Start the Week  spring '24

said he makes tons  more gold  pissing on the front door

of his rich and established   wank-hoarding clientelle!

( footnote: as ' gender' will be 

in real history

Podger's train ride i watched in Hellstoned

her  moaning about fluid sexed up identity

ehhhh..... hoarding disease aint so fluid...

fairly long term,  fatal,   carried into perpetuity

even if the joists don't go, its so lonely!

nor is the ... lets just say yesters he didnt remember all our chat, either

local territory middle aged  well to do 

dad, still just a sad druggy.....

in rural hideaways, fewer CID

to get the dealers who love to ferret out kids like his

and..... especially in the ' country' ... 

now to me thats what actual art should be

at least pretending to ' reflect' upon, reality)

nearly....

 

now...even  your...not mine i knew 16 years ago ignore them,  even if its all you think about 'analytics'  are often fake

230thousand nosey parkers a few days this summer an honest mistake

( nobody else would honestly self piss take...)

but four five six thousand consistent ocd addicted self armoury

popping here, even midsummer daily

does nothing for me

but a few nore hundred - five grand

stupid standing, off and so mean

i shall put some other pages up

one's a silly almost book, all for free