But yesterday, the big day.....

 all a decade, comes, as if  to crystalise

All the so 'clever dick' load of lies

(film too goes with this

Reithians taking the piss...)

But rememberence, the smiley young man just a bit ago

Their word "aware" (he was good.... 

"even my horsey lot ..its understood

the fancy tinctures potions cures

end up piddled out or in manures

they know are......' aware'...

poison waters down from theirs..."

 

" but does that mean you'll be out of your lovely job soon,

and out of new shiny,  likely forever chemical treated, uniform...?"

A question not necessary to ask.

As the new  van, new everything...... will forever last.

Forget every single word heard

merely  1/4 decade in transit

hoping to pick up some once sane..... dot dot dot

There was always one simplest big job to do

each new Messiah,

 same old words repackaged for some next .... 

gushing awful Anita

who hasnt the brain to say " ehh same ole....

 bet we could find something in even our archive

proves you're just on repeat, on loop

same ole chicken soup..."

meaning one actually has to be brave   enough to suggest

if all those small grass roots groups

cannot think to put their own words to the test

back home, in respect of ...

well .... it's ALWAYS " we know best

what to do next"

never, there's plenty of culture already extant

points you in to all will be only ever cant

unless each and every participant

in Mister hunky-beardy's new Utopia

are nicely but firmly, peacefully, but always

held to actual, account.

and that sounds so so horrid.

All i know is that i have a pretty unlined forrid

Never  mind always 8 hrs sleep every dawn a new one

As every smallest white-lie inability to be 'aware' of every single word i have ever said

about something i may DO

even if god i really cant stand you

and your armpits smell of toxic interference

never mind the fat arse hangin' out from your joggin pants

i still remember even twenty years ago nope twenty three

what was hinted as next, but never could happen, 

not even because of me

but integrity does in fact mean

'awareness' of what should have been.

Cos i said it would.   

In other words in an essay soon must-do. Yet another Messiah blaming even billionaires, other politicians, and assuming that some latent goodness is within, a people who have already for decades only ever really thought of what's the advantage, for them.

Now I am not a 'Marxist' ... mererly a truthist. Being billionaires are a piece of cake. But not stupid, if they saw through search or even cookie, that there's so little real resistance, even Ellie cant go out for a bike ride without the latest high fashion superexpensive  saddle bags.

Indeed it often only took just  a handful maybe dozen

of Levellers, or even fake legal 'activists' i pretended

on my side 2009 ... via made up emails router routed via Mi5

if they see or hear some will actually stay the course

like Jack Straw 2009, ran away crying,  

one chap lying

" i have ten more coming to our march"

 If they know nobody ever really means what they say as they say endless clever  newthings rather than those that for thousands of years sometimes  worked.

And a months later digitally hiss or even block.

I've known mini billionaires theyre always stupid

scaredy cats.

Really bothered if they think even a handful of ordinary people

see through the spin or hype or advertorial

and their 'resistence' is at least medium term and real.

 Its astonishing just how quickly they throw in the towel.

Already dug their NZ bunkers with big fancy trowel.

Indeed strangely there was only ever one simple word

worked once.... even from the boozer

Solidarity...

But it mustnt be fantasy

As my fun but tragicom chronicle ... 

universal i know but ... i wish there was more than me

who told the actual truth in actually true books

As the only hope for generation next is learning to peep through the microcracks in the ultimate of handmade 'artisan' mirrors

.... nobody even told them nexters that Alice's  lookingone

an allegory

which means it may just be critique

of  the nature, along the hairlines, of

"you are what you say you are"

and all that simplest stuff 

that really was enough

to fix even the hardiest fracture

if they have the truth, by word or even picture.

which is all merely 

(about 2002 wandering up past ohh yes Morelli's MAndolin next soon... " god it's so dull here....i though fin-de-ciecle decadence was meant to have ended by now..." )

dilettante decadent

infantile

As plenty of post Enlightenment jolly good tries

books films poems even (if limited in effect)

mad it crystal clear, less is more;

let go;  all shit stuff even death by drowning in it, has some magical positive silver lining somewhere... as almost all heart attack survivors would eventually say... and mean.

merely, everywhere ...  'bougie' aint just some cheeky slight

 "bourgeois"... 

once gave the whole world a fright

which unfortunately 

unless they turn 'aware' and 'me'

into one simpler word, 'metoo'

may be rather cyclical....  

  

But nobody can it would seem ever tell a story and mean

walk the talk no matter what

because for some years at least i know i didnt 

isnt hair shirt, nor any kind of martyrdom

its the first step of becoming always esteemed 

even if some days or dreams

one pretends to still be interested in .... ....

But knowing no way never will one ever change

even if silent -  nothing safer 

and attempt the highfalutin scholarly page

or thousand

even if not even in ones own allowance

means no matter how  the deck  is angled

your inner even outward  tango will always be in pewrfect balance

The definate end as i got loads to attempt to fill in, soon

FIRST (i have a list )

The fatman scream down his high st even if least important

The small almost impossible fix this July she didnt know about if i can find the film

ehhh.... the recording of a badgocidere.... 

especially if they seemingly, have links here...

and other things nothing whatsoever about this so uninteresting place

I needed to meander as merely clue to the far more edgy alive lasterplace

where they werent as good at pasting over all the fissures

And nothingness behind their admittedly less attractive, reflection

 

and all i know is no notes ever

(for this the very few months on my list still to 'DO')

every morn i awake 

with things to DO

not this big silly mistake

and not a thought of one word to type

just photos films and other slightly arty things

so, no aforethought nor EVER battery time to think

as  the ineffibles are my witness, my truthful mitigation

for the crime of being the worst slam poet ever

(inspired only by 2009 Billy

Undercover.. 

rather good,

(i told him Billy i never said this before to anyone rap or folk

"you are the new Bob") however 

 even that bloody hippo job

would have found a tad of incpongruity

crowdfunding his smiley 'tribe'

to write his next album  11 or 12ish of poetry and vibe

about the calamity of global warming 

and all that ...

from a  very crowdfunded, and twitterstreamed hammock in Bali, 

"only place i can bed down and be in my yummy  grove.... 

and write the songs about  you love about saving birds n bees and even mangrove..

and as you know i love every flower and tree 

none of which were removed to make yet more space for holidaying jerks like me"

so yes anyway in mittigation

i never have a spare electron to ever even think

how to grove up ...sex up this  faecal stink

and thus hope i earn my rightly deserved reputation

as worst ever bad sick poet who ever stained this Shakespearian nation

(even if his babes were always only ever having stuff done to them

mine at least do the doing, or rather dont....)

thing is one was a liar Queen, deserving

" i cannot ever ever write even a  verse to keep me out their bloody hearse"

she insisted every day!

even if straight away

ten times better than, me

thats what you call a tragedy

 

Teller of Tales

 .... well wait until my archive tells tails about that first one...

ohh i have already, as that was the first 'storyteller' who used a local girl she knew very well over the years  as her personal virtue signalling ... candyfloss to her addictive Liverpudlian lilt, and i forget what her Nick Cave wannabe bloke was called oh yes Ray.... "Dirty"  too 

i still don't quite know how to sum up a well known even if really crap writer who got clicks based entirely on her looks...

saying to a young fan  she had known in person for some years " you can be the pinup covergirl of my new bearded schoolgirls book.." and never meaning what she said...  at great length over sugary drinks

Which is the only fundamental way to really ruin a generation, for good,  i know of... false promises. 

Anyway its hilarious - better comedy than even Basil and his wonderful  so sadly departed, bosslady (i have my tribute in the can from weeks ago but SO behind the sequence) ,  when the whole church disintegrates into "she said she said...". 

and the odd he.

Anyway as this whole tribe spread throughout the cheaper housing of the environment and recreated 'storytelling' into fantasy  for clicks and cash....  its astonishing how one could discover just how brittle their sugary molecular constituency was if ever  confronted with real 'story'... where maybe they are a little more than a.... fable.... as warning to other actual humans with real stories under their hems...

So yes in a land where even the church now becomes mere tale tellers, i havent even started on an update of Silas.... needs to be a ballet really.... 

The second of so many gibbers over 20 years... back then - twenty ten

 and a bit, it was only the 'him's .... the other sex perhaps just a thread of dignity left, to actually remember their own words,  well when it came to the rural jobs rather than their 'money-from-off', holiday ones  

" ....so you need some work on the verge of 'unger well i know the forty fishes thing i preach down my local Temple a load of balls.... some years now  my sheds need reroofing....  you can have that job..."

Quite extraordinary how even a few weeks later they can't remember their own words.

Even when you've had meetings looking over the leaks talking product...

Quite extraordinary.

Him, and his answer to everything "charity"

oh yes i know why i turned the thing back on:

words you will never hear (but really many stories already part told in free Substack pondcast over several years, and there's another landlope.com has bits not yet got into this fat one ) : " ...  they.... him and his buddy from the council/ his neighbour /  his Green Party colleague .... have told tales to the Environment Agency  about us breaking existing lore nobody bothers to enforce  the Greens so busy enforcing some NEW Messiania ....."

As they know such 'theys' are irrelevant over time as few people living in the environment have much spare time....

to follow through or further complain

unless they live in the same house sleep in the same bed

" they have told tales that bloody bunnyhuggin'  dogooder couple... in fact probably their ecstatic bleedin 'transcendental' foreplay 

 rucked up together teamworkin away...

also during  their filthy natural fabric cottonsheet play

is sharing ideas and smiles

of how theyre  going to use the plan b strategy 

to get us nicked, or fined, if the first legislative tickle our way, 

fails...  theyll keep coming back, with moor

take a note of THEIR front door "

is however what you may hear as they know only such tale tellers  are worth considering  as actually... valid.

And may indeed come back with, more.

Being theres something called ... remembering who didn't mean what they said

especially if sharing the same bed

This in the region which is not just THE envirnoment  but in fact all of the whole of the Eastern half of  Wales feeds the water courses that extend way into the midlands even the South...

The Welsh bragged of 5 years ago "we are bringing forrward the most radical environmental law [ref nitrates in the catchments] ever...."

and every stupid Green or just passing Guardian reader [f] for 5 years would say " how DARE you....you nasty man ....you are just NEGATIVE NEGATIVE NEGATIVE....even suggesting nobody is DOing anything... the sweet lovely Welsh have spent millions already on advertising their great new revolutionary legislation"

fast forward nto near 3 years ago me to Monbiot to his face at the sterile rtiver he is sat by eyeing up the vintage clothed....younger birds flocking to him " ehh are you aware of the last six months the greatyest scandal ever ref  the actual environment we are stood by .... how they delayed then put to further 'government consultation' the lore they promised was to be rolled out last 1 jan 2023... and they are now saying 'we will have to put in a licensing system'  which means fatter farmers can bribe the local bossman to leave their nitrate pits alone.... and anyway its now years away...?"

The total fake prettyboychild not even a man,  says to my chronicling devikce " nope ive never heard of this  new law.."

  anyway ehhh ohh yes the archives soon.... if i remember, the way the Green Party would email my then under 30 housemate every other day the emails that the 'under 30s' got.... i think i still have them. Not one word about the environment,  the rivers, or natural  hairdressing advice but every other word about how every tranny and every woman and black in the land are being continually beaten within their last breath as good as....

ohh yes it was so funny to see a few months ago their 'activists'  in action of course we can never entirely know for sure  theyre not stupid, but listening to the occasional good interview about how the Corbynite project was redeveloping  it was of course entirely a fluke that literally hundreds of commenters were writing almost exactly the same snide short paragraph " dont know why anyone would bother with these so called socialists an utter load of fakes  now we have Zac  The Greens are the only real socialist party i wouldnt waste your time with this lot....  "

or small variations.

None would even think about their 'representative' Ellie living as we all knew in an exclusive gated community  even if fair dinkum converted once stately home of extremely exclusive yuppie flats only ....in a  region housing really is a seriously almost permanent issue

only because of SO many living in houses built for five or even ten...

alone

 anyway maybe starting point some of those emails but i NEVER take anything out of context, every word is only after at least ten years seeing hearing exactly the same load of pondweed and thats an insult to the natural  evolution iof said fine real weed... 

that lot couldnt even weed a fishtank theyre so-phobe of.... everything ...  

Funny thing is though when you get to know the real phobes behind their endless phobias theyre far far more brutal and tough than i am .....  

which is why they have used even the smallest fake story of vulnerability, even pain

for.... gain

ohh and i am a European meaning far more of them luvvas jobs livings... I have never met any European who acts

just so. Ever....

Poor blokes getting actually Harrissesd

 (my my comedy lastereve listening to how every Scottish churchy peep is getting 'bullied' by all her congregants and her ladybish)

I am really good at making REAL friends. Standing up for the undergdog, even if they come and annoy me with a convoy of trucks parking me in lasterspot, justernow,  emblazoned with the hated signage:

 " hey...whats the latest here....  i'm on your side i write about ehh well i lived 30 years in THE environment where everyone knew  even when they were first built that the small domestic sceptic tanks and hamlet arrangements were never meant for coping with even in ten billion quids worth of years.... the massive increase in chemicals  being put down the drains when all the fancypantses came with the shelves of bathroom products even Phoebe Waller Buggered-Bridge managed to sight about in her awful 'analsex'aeration load of tv crap they all loved so why not take note it was quite a good scene her sat there wondering whats it all FOR!?! ....  i heard Southern Water a few months ago dare to mention....    you should hire me as your PR... i am bullteproof even without a backpack.... "

" mate ..we get it  in our ears ....all the time its   continual.."

 photos later

right time to actually forever give up

no point

Even her...no memory.....but at least i now know the one whom one thought was what her profile said.... no hope.

Is only joy!

 

Scientific proof my readership is Britolite wimmin...

 So ... the fine writerchap i always forget about

As they do especially, is Mister Lee

whom they only ever refer to in some falsie fantasy

version, perversion.

Which a fine woman gave me if memory serves for my twenty first

Jaqueline the first.

A not just "poignant" infact biblical appreciation of his loyal rural family.

Now literature is all very well

but the reason your environment has gone to hell

Is very simple

In the 'environment' which must be defined as perhaps  less than  20 or thirty peeps per sq km

Being herons have very sharp eyesight and can see every stalker within about one

Never mind otters, one peep of two legs and they're gone

(sorry Southwest 100..  nope, just a suburb, and all tourist blurb)

oops back to the point yes as i need to weave for..?

well i've lived.

Actually true. 

As i saw in the brightest eyes of two:

" yes..i know its all  buggered and

i have no magic wand..".... 

Anyway for  the Jernny-comes....

ohh yes scientific proof mine readers are the English variant

(all Europe despaired of decades back, 

ehh lets not stick anything rhyming with ...)

Take their bearded madman Russel De Drugs

His latest one Jesus ....

oops thats a point, Tommy, too....

It is beyond the witof ANY English to ever even ponder no more

the time immemorial words even the rather moody King Croesus would have 

understood: 

"if you love someone, challenge them to  be at least a little bit better, or itzy witzy bit good"

nope not possible in this Wasteland of nothing

No simplest actual understanding of forever human .... 

doing the right thing.

Anyway ...  i shall loop back hang on to your sleighs

As i walked out one midwinter morning

should be the real title. 

Ten years ago. 

Most important thing about roadtrips is you must never set off on one!

They may just reveal themselves if you hang on tight.

Anyway (reference from a week ago soon) as a recent extremely rare eco talker  talking sense said also 

" me and the missus we worked together to prevent eco Wasteland.."

Now the Jennies will have to go back three years here which will take forever

or pay me to edit and make indexes, sooner rather than later which i long plan to do 

There is a picture of Rachel and Chris

Farmers up in THE environment.

A few km down from the Hay Bluff region of The Black Mountains

(i happened to live upon at 1400' for six years (even if it was such paradise it still seems like a whole lifetime) , alone*, from 2004, with no heating, except a daughter to keep me warm from our constant activity actually in THE environment)

*  equals it was even then quite astonishing how all the Southern invaders didnt  even want to rent a spare room IN the glorious environment half an hour up a windy road from their vile little town which by about 2007ish became " there are more VERY expensive womens clothes shops here in dumpsville in middle of noweheresville than actual bookshops"

Anyway R+C many years there, a hundred or so acres or real farm, saw all herons starved to death etc...   and when i got to know them from 2010ish  would immediately bright eyed go on about trying to stand up to monoculture farms nearby of woodlands with only one intent: to get sold to the citybased financiers,  whom would also be on the nearby so called 'farms' up for the weekend terrorising birds for sport... thousands of them. An even worse monoculture.

Fifteen years roaming that whole region and chatting with the 10/sq km at most farmer peeps and occasional invader  they are the ONLY people ever i met who immediately put their cards on the table:  " the cunts who have bought up surrounding land are polluting it with pheasants and monos....  we are fighting them using the current eco lore.... all we need just get current lores enforced.... "

why? because as Bach wrote in B A F ... a couple is the only unit of polity in actual rural places... and places like Hay can be all very same sexy

but the Johnnies come lately tend to stay in the town where they can pose outside their antique shops

So Richard and his Mary Movie Star would have discovered that if standing up to local ecocider, they will be down the local pub asking around " so who is this bloke   writing letters of complaint...?" 

The answer is not " ohhh... he is part of fake Greenpeace or Extinction Hairdye Showcase Organised Rebelling against nothing  ....  "

The answer in THE environment would be " ohh he and his wife ...we see them at the wholefood shop.... are bloody townies think they can come and tell us what to do.... like protect THEIR bloody faery  woodlands and birds..."

And anyone who knows THE environment knows there will never be a local Greenpeace office (as [my chronicles show in time] even at Hay on the Wasteland River Wye festival of Angelas  all they can do is come and parasitise the locals for money to pay for her hairdye and fancy posters on the back of some  other environment in some glamorous other place she wants to be champion of rather than the river actually fucked just over the road....as it looks good on her FAkebook.... )

so in THE environment there are hardly ANY actual companeros (with the squiggle - it merely means walking companions who are honest of either sex)  as there arent many people living ONLY there, so you can only speak out if you are at least seen to have one fabulous Rachel hugging Chrises back  as back protection-armour as i would see on the back of their quad....  so often....smiling

It takes two to just create the Tangotime poster campaign... never mind polity all the dull politying..

So, you 'walk out' to go find a ...

and on said walking out ...

One first discoveres even in that

(ahh yes the same old Miss Interpretation of the jolly good egg blokes often clad in hunting wear....  who care

Over 20 years every single bloke i have known some very well,  who state " yes my fishing grounds.. [ even shooting grounds though one tries to avoid them, adults grew out of terrorising birds  for sport with my farmer gun, age about 16 ] .. its all damaged ..polluted...you do know Simes what the only solution is.... there are too many people..."

In other words they want the population culled.  Wonder what tjheior attitude would be when it was their  daughter and son's time...?

Now no woman has ever ever even hinted at that solution so keeping it simple one has to attempt to challenge the non genocidal sex to be a slightly better version of themselves.... as i have been at for two decades, one most intensely...

although of course even 'challenging' is far far too difficult a concept .. (tough 'love', also, why their kids are ... well the data isnt good! )  

Anyway proof of my istiness

piggery (more to come)

Before the fakes invaded from 20 odd years ago....

Even thirty back

The number one remedial instruction was so many years on earworm

basically: whats the point of moving away to Colour Supplement land 

if you still! "too much hurrying here and there"

As the greatest of them all sang

Andf i forget being a whitey prejudiced mere ...whatever

But i don't forget every single instance of over ten years

duel purp

chattin up shyly the occasional meanderer down the lesser spotted

streets and alleys of Kingtomn Presteigne Clun anywhere but their place of fancy clothes shops

whom one got to know a BIT

over some walkings out

And they SAY they care about their Lugg or Arrow or Teme...

But the second sentence of almost every single idle chit chat out doing a little basics shopping, would even ten years ago, in THE environment, be

" ohh my i am in SUCH a hurry i havent really got time to chat.."

Now rather than being impolite and saying why dont you fuck off back to Harvey Knicks  as you clearly dont know why you  downsized and bought up all the peasants housing here.... there being only one point, to not be you...

I developed a line as politely as possible even ten years ago " well i became the worldwide single issue campaign group against every woman who we need to be our equal politying in the rural places as if one went to a POLUTING FARM as just a  bloke it'll get all arsey but if woman and man go there in unison its more civil.... in her second sentence saying they have no time.. even for a wistful chat on dumpsville Presteigne high st..... ohh and while we are at it you think you came to live in some fantasy freedomia that shop there was the newsagents and you can read online how the local coppers really DID bully the woman shop owner in a mad Orwellian manner for selling the Charlie Hebdo magazine .. they terrorised her to hand over the NAMES of the citizens of here who bought the publicly available magazine....  i know as i knew her....but fat cunt pretend journalist Marchant lives just down there  never said a word about fascism on his own doorstep...as that may affect his property price.... errata value..all they care about. ."

Anyway ten years on nearly.....  now i really know even if i knew before...but crystal clarity is a perfect golden rain...

All my readers must indeed be of the female variant and have the English disease...

just like every other one met in persona (but which!?!) 

 

i mean one day i happen to notice stats say 200 readers..

the next 2000

....  proof: the phonotype -  thats all you are a lump of lard, plus what you think is 'real'  via your worst culture ever extant

 just one day  hot... next one....cold

Can't even keep your own temp 'regulated' 

why all your stupid kids been brainwashed they're 'dysregulated' 

the most absurd new word ever they brandish as if prize 

(but i saw the fire in those two sets of eyes)

Now ..

 (oooh shivvers down my spine...really, i dont lie or perform yummie sourceiness oops they wont like that and its utterly irellevent as when you discover the only other honest " bird" .... Natasha Carthew... writer lass even if just moanin  

alas

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m001l23j

though does highlight 

her homebird region

[ " A Place Called Home"]

junkies wailin all night

and her words 

" down the road,  her place 

a ' theme park' bloody disgrace" 

and for the Former Sovs well the great cinema of the seventies even eighties

and even yank

told us theme parks, allegory for 

yes youve already walked the plank

one way

and the prozac pisswater in your fruitloop flavoured latte drank

but theme park, even if Natasha wrong

not just her homeland, whole damn 

peninsuline penitentiary 

gated

counties of it

... nope far far closer to Hux's Brave New one

[ jabby fone far too much pain in finger to italix eyes even one 

word

even if three small ones: hot and

cold] 

anyway yes  a whole cowardly old world if nothing but

well i told the one whom admitted '" bubble"

yesterve

" well believe me ahead may be trouble"

pastyshite  typo but fits hahh hahh

all them posh bits

take just one walking chat

septerthis me and the woman rather fat

meandering the beach up from number one exclusive 

5 grand on a personal plate

that says plebs who fant afford here,  we hate

as suoerman motors in gunshot grey

we know what really they  they say

" were off now thirty years  tendin this famous  beautiful peeps, pub

..  had enough.... this years takings...

well tell her to sell her rottin oldtub!

its over... the gated fantasy.... rotted pissed on itself ... just greed and misery

and as dor wankyfancy Hidden Hut

 .. he told me yesteraft ...his profits ... well, something is leaking from someones butt "..

anyway i have absolutely zero interest in any Jenny come lately fantasy place...

Rupert Cammy and Tarq's tax loss disgrace

get yout vat back on the antique landrover's refurb ... 

"well it  advertises our hipstercool beardy whicker baskate my face "

   merely needed to understand how the lasterregion was 100% invaded

by whom why?

as there being kindof minority

they  were a tad less Bravely not very new

aged and rinkled still at it

still pretendin....  

theyll live forever when never actually became alive

as alive means...

eye yo eye, two now...

lovely yummies of thister irrelevent load of underwhelming playground  hills

 very close eye to eye yestereve

would have seen if she blinked the nervy liar  fantasist

oculars stutter

" yes i know.... all my walking places up here ...the   only thing keeps me sane, 

... biologically fucked 

utter

disgrace ...".     ) 

now road trips need..... 

an ending

even if i merely amble

never straining tendon or  especially mind

all the same extremely full kind

but thats certainly IT

eureka

all one can ever really say:

one day hot, cold as ice the very next day

The end

( unless she could he trained   ... when you have Ivry, Warwick's lass mister abbo rights!  he even  denies  a big fat credit!  ... soon loop back to im.... and even Scarlet... in your fingers ... and swiveleyes.... well..... we shall see)

)

well, there"s only one lass who

 is back on loop thistermorn.

and what a magnificent sub-blimey!!

she is good In person

But as for America.....

 Free Speech will soon be tested.

At least the junky Ritolish (untestable on the actual group they pump full of it) actually warmed a bit to the son of havin' a bash

But in the land of dead children by their own TommyGunning hands

(you think unimportant, but the actual immo wave of their mums taking over our academe, third sector, even child services !!

for real not a joke.....stealth stealth but there comes a point where ... 

test it,  the amount of Whitehall voices on social policy have that ugly accent

paid for by your taxes and silly Unherd do gigs on 'should we divorce the Yooessay'  when they never even noticed just how many hems  imported, 

their way in here via Golden visa ... 

Freddy the most infantile geezer ) 

A young man, steps into his long dead dad's boots

and to quote one of the very very very few commentariat, seemingly the only one with a heart

Greatest song. Greatest performance of it. Fight me.

 

 

Which bloody story!?

 So Barenest Amos will feed the next generation of 'warriors' on their Fakebook, a whole new generation of moaning groups (i started or at least got judicial topnoddy to nod in 2006 " and Yer On'her....  this weird stuff has started Myspace and a few others,  and peeps want to tell the stories independently  of how the -  to quote you in 2011ish to The Times, 'Maoist' SS and other lanyard wearing variants, terrorise them via their children just like those lovely Magdalena nuns did over the water.... " ..

LJ Wall a fine one " well i dont understand why anyone would want to use these devices or what they are for but fair dinkum if the plebs want to have a go at being Fourth Estate so be it..I am sure you are right there so what's your next point, ohh you think we are Maoists you cheeky 'arrogant' chap.and 'secrecy is ONLY to protect our arses .. well you may have a point there...." to paraphrase accurately a  fine one...     

sadly gone 

(life is SHORT do it NOW)

Anyway so forever you will now have endless Fakebook groups or whatever next quoting Her Barrenest .... " the system has traumatised poor mums and bullied them as they're givin' birth ...[ 0630 Today today i have many other refs one day]."

So barren of ANY real human story.... such as cycling all the way up the whole of hilly neigh actual MOUNTAINous, mid  Wales that one glorious day... setting out at 6ish with a bit of wireless on the gizmo for company and travelling light with no water bottle  on comes the BBC hysteria " ohh my ohh my red alert the hottest day of the year... do make sure you are plenishly ..HYDRATED..or you will immediately die just on your tube journey to work."  when real cyclists know that filling oneself up with all that heavy hydration will just slow me down at last thirty six years later,  goin' on the quest ... [actual] Princess Di prowlin....

The Beauty of not just the valley.. (but so much more important than being the actual "woman whose never been born"  to quote Percy even if i can never listen to them ever again hearing in fact the public schoolboy junky still is an obsessive collector or Crowleigh First Editions...

. but the hills of Corwen and all around...   a year of wonky FAkebookese pinging and ponging between us  startin " god you commoner impossible to have ever thought of findin' again with the commonest name in the world ever..... look i need to tell you a truth i had to leave the whole septic country age 18 cos of you.....   having fell innnit  with you,  that night after knowing you two a year or so...but you so in love with him....   nope ... couldnt face ever seeing you again...but its so wonderful to tell you now... "

" fuck this for a game of soldiers... a year of the most intimate pingin and pongin.....i mean even tells me to Ramble On the other side of the world and go prowlin S America, ill,  lookin' for a lost lass...' you just gotta DO it man..' .... but even she made mad by her FAkebook addiction and cant read give us a bell......  im just gonna get on my bike and  .... meander her mountain...and as for stupid Tolkein 

ruinin' 

all their brains probably hers too...

life aint a faery tail

lifes about tail only  and ....

her boys even lost their only black in the valley, dad...

....well i got a vacancy

but how weird is that he's buried a mere furlong from

me

and she needs some shedbuilding

for her undergeneration 

rather than "you can fix my daddy's house " concatenation 

that became the future endless bullshit of their sick little lost princess ..imagination

...Im good at that

off we go" 

 Amazing how the phone rings after about half an hour en route

 after the newdawn  dawn message (probably still up, all night onnit) fuckit im just on me bike luv"

So you actually nearly die not of imagined unhydration like

(ohhh i NEED power the shot of Moth on the floor panting in the lying movie is STILL stuck in my minds eye its so so funny it sums up what every walker in the whole SW has in their minds eye that without a gallon on board they are definitely going to die of something.... when a real walker if theres some hyrdationemergency  its impossible to be further than half an hour walk from some stream in this land even in a'drought'...)

but 12 hrs on you bike all day up pretty steep Welsh hill passes ...  not enough fuel on board knees shaking...

And there she is   

 It's an extraordinary thing this time thing when it comes to old beaux....  once before sadly the true princess of course i was too prejudiced at the time to appreciate  the  way that the one ... 

well.... in fact she had the movement of Ms Heights all KAtie 

and skinnier!

but unlike that fake...

Olwen had adapted her palest green skirt to be ankle length and by far the sluttiest ...

to go with her sublimest faery or witchlike dancing around the corridors my own personal prowler for years....

in fact she glided...  on a magic carpet  - that made of genuinely natural materials..

of obsession

absolutely no idea  why on earth

but for me

For several years i would have to iognore

pretend she wasn't there hovering with her ten times sexier than KAte, look..

and sluttine fashion sense which drove me bonkers the first time i noticed it

But...in a very very uniquely classless region, sadly there was still a very small underclass. basically Olwen and her two equally sluttite gang...

almost proto 'goth' before they became as common as much.

Frankly a genius.

Whom of course intimidated the lower middle class other girls  who didn't have one speck of the eyeliner genius that the actual temptress 

genius possessed

so they were sidelined...

Only ever to be enjoyed out of the corner of my eye

Anyway theres nothing worse than a decade later at last plucking up the courage to attempt to put right ones error as usual only due prejudice

Never having even spoken with ones prowler  even if having many an evening ion ones minds eye been with her on her naturally fibrous magic carpet ...

To knock on her front door and discover

she's gone and got as fat and jowly as the first Ms Bush....

Until, there is one thing worse as fat can be cured

Well i need Mister Bates

Herb

Even if one may 'visit' the prototype

still sometimes at night

(in fact errata torturing onesself for mine art looking at Kate warblin their atrocious book - every English private schoolgirl ive ever known has on their Desert island one! ... Olwen not only ten times more asluttine dress sense her hair i still cant forget the perfection in longer than Kates and far  more sluttine in arrangement....  if one had stumbled across Kate in some back alley at night you would walk past not even knowing her...but Olwen made sure with the genius of every serpent slitherin under non existant Eve's skirts as if she could Pied Piper every one into only on her obsessive mission and crusade and never ending  tirade ..of looks that needed no words...   you know what serpents are ...for....and she could never be not noticed as totally unique... and the only one whom ever got the look, perfect  )

  

Anyway there is one thing worse: discovering something immutable. Fat being dealable-with, no injections required...

There you are.... and within an hour of being in The Princesse's

 kitchen... 

thirty six years late

  and hearing her tales of thirty years senior SRN at The Countess 

of Chester 

and then meeting her [f] drug dealer joining us 

for tea and....

And how they both boast of the 

"no i wouldnt if i were you .....not even out of curiosity, having 'grown out of it 36 years ago'..... this stuff is utter brain damage..."

As one discovered was indeed the sad fact of the matter

no brain left to damage 

30 years gobblin that stuff 

But it was the boasting the real sadness

" they wouldnt dare....  there are a few of us, quite a few in fact....  but drug tests ... well we are considered above needing to be monitored, or even questioned....i quite often have a big fat spliff behind the bins at ...work.."

wont be in Barenesses barren report barren of the truth of your sceptic aisle...

anyway which story of all mine,  may  be as simple and poignant of Herberts magnificent Love for Lydia  (and in fact many others of his better and subtler) that Fitzgerald-like  but without that silly YAnkee fizz,  chronicle the true .?..   well truth of how once good things do rot...

but somehow he kept within his tales of Wasteland some kind of  life affirming, something.... 

makes you want to live, despite her....

even if the only real sadness is being shouted at  snidely  and angrily, by a woman in charge of health for many for going out for a walk alone on the mountain she lives just next to....  as mad to want to go for a walk ...

  

Now....

 Let it be ... ehhh..... 

So in 24 hrs it seems almost every single Lady Bishop, and what was it yesteraft someone doin' someone for Harrissin' but the judgie goes and turns the tables and says "no the Harriser was infact the Harrissee..."

Which is the exact reason the WHOLE eco movement ground to a halter 15+ years ago as rather than turn their foaming energy on the baddies they try and drown each other in pools of foamy fluster and "youre bullyin'" bluster

 But best of all a poor Harriser or Harissee Lady Bish  should in fact become the arch False Allegory

as it seems now all her pathetic little congregation are now accusing her of being a 'bully' which is a very strange thing in an organisation where one can just.....walk out the front door ....its certainly not legal to be made to be there...

or coerced

  except

Anyway none of my business even if i am so lucky that for a decade i saw within their whole business of what happens behind a front door...

And just how many default to, make up...

The things i saw

... .. ... which is THE 'healing' they all so desperately desire  - it hurts at first.... but when you know the true truth you then understand, the news the nonsense ... even why Nigel... which has nothing to do with brown immos. Nothing ever even slightly bugs you ever again...

Righty ho positive news, happy endings... 

If someone had said a decade ago, and certainly three years ago this time of that year freezing to half-death with a  looney storkin' ... that i would have  a whole wonderful extremely happy and very very sublime, large enough territory (they must be at least 30km diameter for 'stealth' and not being seen same place concurrant days...and leaving one inner-territory  - your 10km diameter zone of concern, is so nice " pheww escaped that intense dump once again.." a daily inner yoga session or releasing the pentups...)

well in fact its been like this a whole year really.... but the very best full-ranging non-place as really greatest of all territory... is in the region "hated" ...

However a true man of the land never even uses it's name... a human name for anywhere that is far bigger than human even if denuded and indeed murdered by human, as kids we saw through as indeed absurd... it's just " the hills" ....

Anyway ... the absolute glorious  zenny centredness and plenishy abundance of a few warm mornings  with absolutely every movement and twist 'n turn planned to minimise carbon and heatloss...

which is how an actual 'offgridder' must live (8 of last 16 yrs)  and you love every second of it.....  as its not just 'beating' the system its being just a little 'above' it.. but you don't tell anyone - or rarely, as god how they HATE you for... not having their worries frettin's ..dramas... 

True hate.... even if it doesn't exist it merely is ...envy of course.

Such an interesting human emotion, real hill people (formative years all you have)  dont understand as you dont have it bred into you....

  

 

Well she will chime, that Bush.. :-)

 (All is smiley when all your life you saw through ALL silly chemicals.. it's only ever been about finding just a few on the same page)

But i need the thistersummer art-project photos that show just how ugly they all are.... poor things.

Even poorer in the lymph nodes their pores channeling  the ink to xenobiotic itself in that particular unsafe 'space'

(how on earth does any unpowerful nanaboatee manage poorer and pore ... ? even Queen of the bodily...)   

But that's just fuel.....

 And all the " ohh you are an internet  conspiracist too..." as narcissistic an assumption seemingly default

Nope just learned how to think for myself....

When even the slow'hand of god....' starts to make vids about something even an actually intelligent 'god' cannot know about, whether some or other bug or injection has 'harmed' him.... the mindbody interrelation of all even humble hobbits being very complex..... 

way way beyond 'Deepmind' as even the magnificent Prof MArtin hasn't been able to update his splendid 1997 suggesting its very weird....

rather than saying GET OUT IN THE SUN... walk exercise and ... be NEW do things you dont want to do..m aybe even for others you really know not to even slightly like..... as that makes the mind stop mulling on its own miserable inflammations or whatever else nobody will ever really know is extant... but make some new bits that work too...or even better

in other words (said as shyly lifelong conflict avoidant expert,  hobbit) fight...a bit

gets you to live on 

and without a tad of brianrot either... as it requires brain and guile to avoid the backseeking knives all around...

(actual data does confirm ask any honest old folks home superintendent to ask the ones who live...longer....just "why"? .i know i did around 2012..) 

 

Right the real [InNix!]version needs to start and begineth with .,... define it, first

 So three year'nago

(funny thing is the current one - talk about hardship! i shall miss it one can get used to ANYthing....

 even this really THICK unintelligible 'app' that sometimes stands photos on their side just to remind you how like them it is... then its made by them so whatdyer expect..)

There i am innocently natterin' about small spaces even if the opening lines were crystal clear....

I mean you can't be clearer than  " all the women over here in the actual environment which has 10% pop density of your, well you will say it one day! yerself.... HATEfilled .... suburb....ran away to be closer to Harvey's Nicker collection .......

or died of Bovarian cancer [ copyright me, just came along into my polluted stream

of consciousness meanderin one of errs the other day

likely up by the waste of good stone in some so called circle

I think thats what that EVERYwhere common-as-muck book is about, 

lust for pretty things.... 

eats yer up from within...

but there's REAL books by real peeps like whom i am 

soon as i read it only a few years ago i knew what books is for...

to find yourself: total  irrelevant slightly thoughtful bloke gets new neighbour sees her on the landin' takes a fancy, in propper French manner, knows she will like boys or if having a phase still like boys just as much and respect them as necessarily evil, and part of real life....

anyway nice cups of espresso ensue...

but shock horror innocent naive bloke encounters some evidence that in actual fact she's a tea leaf....nickin her own family's gold or purse...

" ohh god will i ever ever meet ANYone on the level...  i knew she was ok but it seems not and no way do i want to be around any dodgy loon  ex towny or towny as there are simple lines in life and thankfully i dont have some weird need half of em seem to do to tango over them lines... just for kicks or why?..."

Turns out spoiler alert  everybody naturally was rather miffed at her the maybe nicker...  and he went through such a wonderfully philosophic time pondering his 'love' vs authenticity...

he needn't have as all along she was innocent entirely...

some back of the sofa nicked it instead or whatever second i met him thats me....

Anyway i'm not interested in fine old stories only those of now...

But then i should have gave her my speech that ive been giving nicely for a decade... but even Balzac that genius of true art, that takes you there and yes does have a tad of judginess to it  when he takes you right into his mind in a  standard human way 

as humans are standard even New New New Labour seem to be realising that at last even if it won't work as there's a whole massive INDUSTRY (see third sector audio waffle)  based on the labels the newwords that are as meaningless....all of it

(capital i didnt know:  Totty twinned with Narnia [sic]   well i did, but didnt know how the whole region of course attracts the acolytes sub species hamngers on...like flies attracted to a turd..scrappin over that particularly sweet LOOKing dribble off the crumbplate...nothing to do with me but its always eventually good to know who one is or what the real so called 'people' is)

Anyway there we are three years ago

" i'm bulletproof..."

well OBViously nobody is entirely but you can't tell em ....any of them..... even her, an actual proveable truth, i bet still:

" as i was a propper parent genuinely respecting the innate frequency and naturane faeryness and pixiness ness and mystical shmaniac Shakti within, of my kid 100%, i would give her POWER  - the real version, unlike thefake faerying about at these new woodland schools as their parents are too busy buying competitive yoga mats,  to get their kids to read books... so yes kiddo even at the pub for early dinner... and get her to read out the last few pages of WAtership down in public knowing exactly what always would be occurin' " hahh hahh LOOK at my mad bad baldy of a dad blubbing...you can see the tears welling up LOOK!.... blubbing ....at a silly story about bunnies and Fu Inle faking interest in one just about to expire from the mixi...... god how pathetic!"

"But other than some minor occasional ' ohh yet another one..'...and appropriate feelings sometimes.., yes i am bulletproof this is something you EARN if you fight a bit of a fight and no English woman ever ever ever even wants to have a second cuppa with anyone who has been a bit of an actual 'warrior' as you pretend you are too... thats not important but...  ohh please not you too......"

unfortunately i didnt give the standard speech of ten years starting around 2010...would it have made any dif?

"luv....  right i am a scribe+ i sit for days sometimes with those going to courts about domestic issues such as wars over kids etc... these are in the civil courts which work on paper representation... i would write down for them their STORIES which is what lore is based on...  as they couldnt even think about who they were any more so i spent a few days with each teasing out who they were... for their story... so they can protect their OWN kids possibly under threat of removal... for a huge commission in someones back pocket one day down the road....  from some private orphanage or the like.... 

" luv [at first only the f.s the men caught up about 5ish years later]  since around 2008ish EVERY single litigant going to court DEMANDS that their story is mainly or in fact ONLY about how HE has serious 'control' issues...  every single one.... poor judges they must get so bored of every single statement saying exactly the same....  and then the blokes caught up and now both sides endlessly going to great lengths about the 'control' issues of the other side...  and then from around i dunno as i started serious online use of online about injustice via the 2006 test case but saw it perverted so i gave up... around maybe 2015ish every single person started to accuse every other person of 'narcissism'...  like everyone...

" now never mind a great strategy,  if we didnt use the n word at all and told the judgie about when you have managed to compromise and how fabulous your kid IS despite you.... maybe judgie may find it ...different...interesting... indeed even LIKE you which is wot lore is about dont be fooled by the word 'justice'...

" ehh if EVERY single person in YUK is accusing every other single person of being a 'narcissist' well doesnt it all kindof cancel itself out.... ? ..like lets find something to talk about we can DO something about...maybe..??"

nope silly me i should have at least tried

But then i didn't know that in fact my slightly exaggerated speechifying lines above - only to help peeps actually WIN court battles they said they wanted to win often with tears in their eyes..(was maybe at least 75%  - 'control' then 'narc' ).. from early 2010s...

was actually 100% correct in that it seems every single person in this whole Penninsula does indeed think almost everyone else they may speak with not merely shallow bs speak.. they are a "narcissist"

It makes me smile inside as i attempt a mental whispered game of " hmm...how long will she last out before using it..?"

so i understand how even a good to fine mind was polluted indeed drowned in the shit in her own shitcreek - figuratively speaking

And as per last or last but one audio no immo ever ever had power til second gen to say anything real  - critique fully their adopted sociuety, as Mister Naipaul explained most beautifully in Bendy River 

which is sad because the first line " and before you say anything about us UK should be before us in the queue at The Hague.."  about 3/4 of the world does also know is true  

And how the F35s over GAza still were kept tickin over with UK 'logistical' support...euphemism for some bloke in a houseboat probably offshore even ... brokering the arms most to scaredy cat, slithery.... to actually direct market them ... the Middle Men of the Mil Ind Comp thats UK...

but i bet it has never been repeated to anyone else.

Anyway such a hard word....  especially if one has just become surreally absurdist commentatin' on billions of vids with nowt ever to say so not 'join em' just....

i don't know but all that matters

is even a badger baiter can become an 'honoured' Member of the Badger Exterminatrixes, too  

but once ok art ....which shows how Mister 'God', 

the hand of god

In fact pretty much only his hand

No fancy settin' fire to his axe with lighter fluid no fancy anythin just stood upright unsmiling likely in junky withdrawals...

didnt really TRY!

and no cameraman even tried to film his face - nothing to see just an axeman doing his job....... 

and thus is perhaps a good record of how That Sublime kindof gets invented 

no not by MBE him.... 

turncoat .. toady...

but the first time maybe ever someone just ..  without trying just let them ferkin angels be in the orchestra alongside hidden behind the 'gear' too.........and just.... 

well there are no words for trusting in the 'moment' to deliver some...thing... perfect

THE one and only horny mum of them Welsh Hills...

 Now.... what the English fail to ever have recorded as maybe they don't know about it (me only interested in the actual counter-culture, internationalist version and TOMORROW) was how from the 80s meandering many thousand kms of European hills byways out of the way places... almost only; almost continually for twenty years.. from the hillpaths of S Island NZ early 80s to all the European ranges (never ever with walking poles or crampons as the only place you need them - top 'o those Alps or Pyrenees is for showoffs   with less sense and more cash than those of us who are quite content with a few thousand metres and no showoffs with neon or the lastest expensive haversack around (i saw that the  antique version is so so so the bird magnet around Gweek Helston most of their polluted S coast - clearly the way to entice a girlfriend..if you are a girl.. errata middle aged woman pretending you still are one with an antique rucksac as old as you all shiny and refurbed just for a walk to the shops )

 is how if one were tramping around the 'bothies' - yet another word monetised to trap tourists in absurdly overpriced 'shepherds huts' - i am a allowed to parody lampoon say what a load of wank as i was an actual real  Full Monty in fact quiote often solo hillwalkin lookin for the lost sheep one...shepherd, in the days no self respecting shepherd would require shelter from anything ...  

in that one went Bathsheba herding on wet or cold days a more indoor sport that wasnt a sport as you needed someone to help salvage the burning hay with you ...Johnny come lately from Troy pissed as a fart ....... and fine days went to work....

Anyway meandering further afield for good one hoped then, walkers huts, youth hostels.... all over Europe..cafes in the morning in the outdoors the olnly civilised way to chat up girls ... with philosophy
And over the years one would fall in at times with other likelminded humble walker/cheapbackpack-er types... many who may have a copy of Siddhartha tucked into their bag ..i was too prejudiced to read not against Germans but knowing already the 'East' is full of bonkers most materialistic types who  would sell you a  dogburger made from your own pet one if they could turn a 'Buddhist' buck just so ... these days they sell the backpackers some kind of supposed alcohol that...kills them...as they knew it would as sure as ferrits are...

Anyway none of my interest as its not for others of any other county to comment on the indigenous county unless they are George Borrow updated just meandering and chronicling all counties, as one meandered all around Europe especially.... 

What one does NOT encounter is always far more interesting: even then....  Europeans kiwis... even the occasional Yank one would sort of fall in with for a few days completely sex-neutral good company maybe walking together... almost every one would NOT wish to be at the same table in the Youth Hostel as...the English...

So interesting....  some kind of second sight some kind of intuition or maybe just an allergy to arrogance especially in such places .... the places one was in so as to be nobody...

I wonder if there ever was any truthful travel writing about just this...Graves? probably not... whasisface getting his disproportionate Chatwinesque attention...?

noting how many on these European Tours or just meandering did kind of avoid the English...

None of my business as i began to mainly mate with the actual human ones...

But theres one thing for certain in life a life of meadering ...and living many years at 1400' in the Black Mountains  2/3 of the 00s... hill people are far far far more chilled and 'above' the nonsense this Frog is being lauded for ... by the 'tech bros' (and now the BBC yestermorn predawn)  - no nobody EVER coveted ANYthing  - never ..i never even sensed any person wanting what others had.... needing to be in that herd...

which is either a hill-person inner setting or maybe just a standard GENUINELY 'rural' person inner setting.... i have never wanted ANYthing anyone else has or is... well maybe one... a certain 'skirt' ...

but other than birds 'n Bees... nowt ever

But i met one mountain dwelling mum who clearly WANTED something.....

The only one ever. 

Funny that so if i wrote about or even to, her daughter.. famous BAFTA babe, for nothing i bet...

"Gina never mind the nights we spent under the cold moon up outdoors on The Pass.... i think you made the first pass, i wonder if you recall with crystalnacht clarity when you took me home to mums for dinner that time, .... and i loved to bits her warm girlfriend, Jen, too...  but didnt really have the attention span to take her in too as your utterly Grande Belazza mum  spent half the evening smiling at me in a  way  - with her Elizabeth Taylor kindof look on a good day all supermodel sexy full woman way...that only said ONE thing...

never mind not caring for her daughter's  rights to her boyfriend.... that just maybe her girl-on-girl thing she they made SUCH a thing - i guess the first in valley and surrounding hills........was just a phase...

your own existence being rather proof of that too...."

Nope its a strange sad thing being shipped off to an English  boarding school does to you (i still have the letters so many) ...

Go and become business partner creative partner of a British 'national Treasure'...

who has done more to ruin this society than anyone else ..

if a man.. i mean a man-man like Primo who never really even moaned about Auschwitz that near killed him but looked inside at us ALL through the lens of it...

..  had slightly fallen from 'grace' publicly in a way that one cannot remember why it was so made up...

and then spends a decade making public and then internetty pity pieces about all his  so many issues and illnesses and mental wonkinesses 

 he would have been told to fuck off and get another agent if he can find one that is....

but no.....  the one good thing about Mister Fry is he discovered (i forget why)

that freedom of speech is rather crucial

otherwise.... talk about having owning neurotically NEEDing..... so so much public space, oxygen....with nothing whasoever to say ever...

beyond which good old Oscar once did in actually BEAUTIFUL words, getting his fair proportion of one of many 1.5% minorities ... for a whole lifetime of Frys..

Never mind how many other genuinely opressed minorities exist that never get a word ...  like the solo environmentalist wandering the lanes of Titley or Herrock hill where 2020 thousands of acres were felled IN BIRD BREEDING SEASON 100% against the lore...but nobody dared say... so i couldnt

even parody the signage put up around by their woman PR with her details giving the snidest reasoning ever for breaking the law....

(the only reason your environment is fucked is NO Green or even likely future BAfta nominated Fergal Sharkey  ever does the extremely hard DULL work over many years to make sure quite adequate EXISTING law is actually  even policed! never mind kept to)

Of course Gina won't make that film.... as she ran away from hers ok fair dinkum a tad mined .... and fabulous MOST modernist romantic lanscape under the full moon that night....

you either STAY a person of the hills or...

funny thing is thought it could never be wrenched out of you...

Perhaps one man alone could, whats their word ohh yes transition, someone...

But dont think io am negative as in the audio yesteraft the FULL version of the only one.... who actually ever did transition ALL the way....from corporate MAnchester PR queen...

to actual shepherd...

to wandering down to COOP, ion her truck,  in the middle of nowhere,  if she saw me on my old bike heading that way 

as she knew only one man appreciated her genuine 100% curative healing transition:

" Helen you make me bonkers the way you are wearing as usual your eau de lanolin to go shoppin'.... but more than that its the way you really are proud of it.... always.your face always says just that.....and it is the REAL you....not just a phase..." 

ahhh 6%...

 Now, in a peninsula of  100% gibbers, not only does one have to define that word, even if utterly pointless, as all my dull life (well from age15ish when the first wave of bluehairs invaded Theatre Clywyd - was that Mold? even then that place on the fringe of the hiils of N Wales full of nasty junky drugs and bovvaboys so we  my sweet wholesome underclass pals of youth never ventured there incase ...

So this class of Nutzis who started to roll out the 'culture' of that very very deprived poor scruffclass region back 'to' its indigenous peeps -  my neighbours (i say my as my parents hardly had anything to do with them unless transactionally.. )  

We literally would laugh about some or other faery tale myth of the 'natural' folk of region even wanting their dinosaur language, 'back' .. the bluehairs (we didnt know then) based their future government pension pots upon all those pots of indigenous gold buried by sweet nice peasants hiding away from some nasty invader who stole their language and   .. (the 'public' side -  one means the newly arrived lanyard class who colonised a closed old theatre nobody liked or used.... that is...) 

when your home territory was unpronouceable LLangynhafal ...unless you were a kid of said parish and said it when directing the Lowlander girls up to your lonely hills... and even the born 'n breds hardly ever used the placename, as they were just fine speaking in the English language their tractor handbooks came in, and sheepdip bottles ...and anyway everyone knew where the farms were by surname, either English Whittingham or Parry or Jones - all the varying variants of them.......well you have all this in perspective.

I never heard the word "Welsh" ever..never...., especially when twice a year the farms around would by ESP as hardly anyone talked to each other the rest of the time too busy surviving, 'gather' to combine their labour and feet to walk ....all several hundred sq km.... a couple of times a year to gather the sheeps...

deliberate dumbed down wording there only cos of boredom

we all were then but....

now.... by happenstance as i doubt he even looked at the ts and cs although we had a house with  20 acres about a km from the 'common' we never used that word, only the mountains, a few of the 40acreish  farms  right on the edge - meaning fields actually the first fields down from the wall that was the 'mountains'  had fallen pretty much into Wasteland and dereliction and property man my father picked them up for very little and my real cross, eyeing them up to be the first one in the UK to REALLY publicise the yuppie barn - one of his things (via RIBA magazine) 

which the local farmers he ignored often would gibe wont end well, in fact we were all wrong, as i was shyly on their side " this wont go anywhere ..."

But thats all nothing to do with me, 

all i know is what was REAL community..

couple of times a year a ragtag band of sadly only male blokes would sort of by esp sort of park their very old clunky landrovers - the few who could afford them that is, and on foot we would walk the whole of that few hundred sq km....

nobody would risk their essential landrover up the really buggered up mountain tracks as they needed to keep the thing problem free on the road back and forth to get their groceries or take their kids to school and none had a dime to spare ever everyone accepted entirely...

no quads not invented then not even motorbikes as none of the farmers could afford one of them ... and certainly ditto regrading nags... 

I hadnt learned to do the dogs...

because in fact the dogs   were inadequate in that very upsy downsy hillside topography  a dozen sheeps could be blissfully munching away all day with the 'muster'  ongoing all around them, and even the dumb dogs couldnt be trained to scout the WHOLE area including all the small hidden away hollows surrounded by steep banks or undulations nearby upland stream,  never mind all that towering bracken.. and get them ALL in. (for lowland newgrass 'feasting' or their annual bath or nailbar time) ...so you had to cover every single sq km by....foot...

no walking sticks no map no nothing ... no useless dogs... and certainly no ugly neon....

just like a mountain goat...

and one slip in such hollows and dips you may have to wait days before the extremely small band of us may stumble across some disabled  actual mountain shepherd 

(yes i was one...  a real one for 5ish years which wne you are a teenager is a very very long time...... and there were only about 10 of us who had 'grazing rights'   to that whole wilderness likely the same size in reality - actual 'common' as the underwhelming tourist trap of the SW, and we were so thinly spread over that couple of hundred sq km one rarely even knew who was doing the same forever role  a few km along that wall....)

anyway ehhh....community: it was brilliant. Most of the year grunt oif you are lucky from your adjoining farmer.... but a couple of days a year without having to be told to or with any complaint about the last 6 mths of weirdo grunts... there would be perfect harmony. Even the odd smile... the maybe 4 or 5 of us at that communal all hands on deck gathering...

And the one word nobody ever ever used was 'Welsh' ... some families obviously English sounding such as Wittinam'  perhaps only there 30 or so years maybe had moved in from Shropshire...others, them Parry or Joneses... probably many generation peasant farmers...

But nobody ever used any word to delineate what the obvious accent was...

nor ever really mentioned the completely natural apartheid (as the 'Welsh' girls were kindof prettier in a certain fizzy way and wore more oppressively conformist in the way that say Mandy fabulous  sex kitten to the school bullies would personalise her green school dress in a wonderfly slutty as possible way but none of the welsh were allowed to by their mum or chapel [none ever went to!]  and thus there was a certain 'something' in their attire the in-your-face Mandies could never replicate in a million years of trying tp be as modern as possible....and it wasnt fair as the 'native' tongue welsh about a thrird of the comprehensive dump school had their own section for most of their lessons in the  Welsh language not one ever even mentioned all it meant was one had to wait until breaks to have the true thrill [ no american pornographer could ever understand how less is more and more clothing if its Rhian in her very very Nutzi sharplyironed  to perfecting, nonsexual pencil thin skirt her mum will have thought will keep her chaste .... was the only one you REALLY wanted to chase around the yard to where the bikes were left...but it wasnt fair one had to be in the apartheid stream meaning one saw far less of the quite equally 'free love' other lot..... ) 

Until of course it will have changed now 

And by 2008 well my ohh my.... my very toughnut champion ferret breedin, hillwalking  lass, 10cm taller than anyone else in her class,  came home sometimes in a quite delicate mood over a  period and eventually dad alone got her to open up...

(with some trepidation....thinking someone was gangbangin'  her in the bogs at breaktime she was genuinely hurting in her soul as i could feel)

" well..... it sounds silly .... but it hurts me.... S**** .. [ the senior Social Workers daughter very popular girl bigging herself up always kindof understood to be school headgirl-in-waiting ]  she keeps saying to me  all the time ....'Esti we feel SO SO sorry for you.... really sorry ... that you arent ...Welsh'... god it kindof hurts me inside...." 

so said that popular main-girl with SW mum who really made it clear she was Mother Theresa too....... the schoolgirl then near ten

 they all kindof touched their metaphorical hem, 

to... in USA she would be the cheerleader one at the front, of that pervy-porn-parade

i never had the heart to say of course " yea...deliberately.... you were made 3 km inside safety - the county of England, cos they went nuts decades ago...a different 'lore'  a completely made up version of Dylan Thomas who couldnt wait to leave the mad dump stuck in the century before last....  in fact he became a thinker/poet only in London... prostituting a fantasy version of his county [not a typo  - deliberate, when you roam their hills for your existence as teen....there are no borders]  of birth... as he wasnt good enough to be really original and say anything real about anything real... such as how oppressive Rhian's stupid mum was in choice of skirts.... except it failed as you cannot dress 'down' her so wonderfully bright eyes and a sexy smile i would die for to see one more time....  that were ten times sexier than Mandy's rebelliously painted toenails or even Melanie's similarly shaped skirt (but a much darker shade of rebelious green!) with an ironic  English freelove girly twist in that you just knew it was saying the exact opposite of Rhian's ....or that was the intention...   that failed.

And nobody EVER i knew had ever even heard of...King Arthur... the Managobbyion or whatever it was called...

As in fact our splendid just slightly hippyish history teachers knew even then mid to late 70s...

he never existed except in the minds of.....

I mean you do have to blame their high priest the forerunner to deathcults that still exist like Crowleigh

 ....

says it all biorn in junky central likely even then they would be experimenting in coffee shops with 7 spoonfulls of sugar instead of  how coffee was invented to be drunk strong black and no sugar...

always of course these English junkies  - if not in person doubtless giving the nod  to some Opium Eater down the road... get some things right...

Even the girls from down the valley where the dead language of the DEAD word (that half of the artists in PAstyshire think is so so alive !!!  as a branding.... wait til you see MY art collage of their bullshit)

hiraeth is DEAD  it means " some fake Londoner,  junky who is desperate to make up some book that hasnt been done before  about a word NOBODY ever used cos its dead.... in more ways than one... makes a coffee table book about a dead word which actually means:

 ' we lost our old life ... cos we became so alcoholic and tv addicted by the 90s  most of us are too fat or busy wifebeating to ever go for a walk on our lovely hiraethy  hills..... and we will never  get it back [actual defn of hiraeth lost forever]  cos we became too alcy chipfat addled and Pobol y Cwm tv addicted to bother trying ....   whereas saudade the Portuguese  version is not [ no its not as your Guardian tells tou one of those untranslatable words]  about a wholesome past lost  forever one must just moan about it actually means [ see Pereira MAintains clue is he resists in Rua Saudade... no spastic Britolite critic will tell you about this! ] ... nope we can stilljust maybe FIGHT to get back the wholsome better times...

 so yes as usual they have some good things they PR ...

and maybe the 'free love' that knew no boarders, nor Rhian's oppressive hem...  in my yoof.... 

was ever present most happily....

 a few even made it clear they did love the Parfum...

of freshly mown hay and even lanolin

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

ahh yes 6% battery only... 

so ehh...

when you have a whole region - penisnsula ..of gibbers

what you have to do years ago is plan every smallest 5km drive to maximise charging (no cash to run motor..)...and words jotted and...

'issues' 

not that anyone actually ever cares about 'issues' they may themselves Fakebook promote.... caring is good for you, especially if it hurts...

cos eventually the hurt phase turns out to be exactly that....

 

... hmm did i finish that point all these Blakes and that whole gang of private schoolboys.. DeClancy  even whatisname Bishe ..never mind   Lord Mad BAd.... 

all of them perhaps starting with Blake created this whole mythology .... its easy to make up 'myth'..or exagerate it for attention...

merely because they werent actually good writers like for instance Silas' mum, Ms Evans

and frankly theyre just trying to out-bad the badboy next door.... so dull, shame they succeeded...

just as the English bluehairs invading Theatr Clywyd way back then (further away from their bnosses and nobody else wanted those jobs so they had 'autonomy' to go mad and invent something never existed)  succeeded in creating a myth about the 'welsh' needing more welshness as theyre opressed...

only by the dinosaurs like Rhian's mum as even she had Reggie Perrin or Man Alive or the great 70s tv...

they chose to be what they are...

and no dead language even has words like 'free love'...

or even 'fax machine'

and Nobody oppressed Eleri....   with her 'English' surname 

and Eisteddfod fame

to be cont

 

Now ..

 ...i know ..fancy words like "the sublime" ...all a bit hard to get the (well she said it " the education a disaster" and in fact it's more a case of just the general dumbing down, as i didn't have any education... but in time educated onesself bit by bit and for NO 'reason'... that's the thing no reason... and i still remember sat in my old motor 35 years ago as even The ...(what does one call a national broadcaster that posits almost its whole output on a corruption of the actual data?..mustthink of a simple name, in Time..was going to be the GAy Times but we read that age 17 and it was a fine mag..i still have a photo of Mark with his copy reading everything no prejudice just reading all opinion)    before it was that, reported fact by some thinkers before John Gray was allowed on to be part of the dumbing down, hearing   " and everything is dumbing down" )  modern day Fakebookese infected angry little 

spittle

which isnt a "divide"

It's merely a form (notebook a week back it made ME smile ) of Bovarian cancer, actually not a 'form', it just is

And all your protein folding alogorithms in the world wont figure why it is...

unless you read Silas.... then Turgenev, Bates, Wharton...  ehh and well Alexei kindof got there  - the sane Alexei that is who didnt make a whole sexist series attacking a woman snakeoiler...

 without pointing the finger at her more senior (snakeyoil as he back massaged)  man friend 

to be cont and entirely opened up....soon

The Sublime

 the last little section of reflection has had a bit of pictorial add in....

 hahh hahhhh.... now we're in trouble.....meaning the whole of civilisation which started with the first real book .. probably before in fireside stories

Anyway... Youtube seems to have a new neurosis in that you put up a few minutes of video as in that last one and it now spends 5 minutes checking 'content' which means of course their fancy new 'AI' will 'read' it....

Now i know there is NO hope when the only woman i  knew had a good mind goes and as usual FAkefriend-performs interest in 'AI' as if it is some cute little tool that even underttands basic intelligentish wellish read and do a bit of ones own sleuthing too as i BELIEVE in 'some'thing....in other words it can 'chat' ordinary post-enlightenment thoughtful   person speak...

 

only once " ok chat with me cunt...what is The Sublime" in fact i asked it that obvious question in as simple language as possible. No ambiguity...

The Sublime is something one so rarely sees. I saw it in someones artwork yesterday....   it 'elevates' you for REAL....no faux pretence of liking something as all the other vipers all cliquey like it too....

Nope... the chest heaves with emotion  - the right kind - 'awe' but not the awful English Public School boy version of 'awe' being something that's gonna whack you on the bottie if you are Mister great actor McDowell in IF... one cowers at - pretending stiff upper lip to take it like a man but you know that that kind of 'awe' will hurt you at some pointy if it can....

(as in the great storms Turner painted up in his log cabin)

Nope.... The Sublime is in fact (my hated word) kindof about juicy magic...maybe magic... it never quite reveals itself or purpose... but European languages and dictionaries are far more enlightened in suggesting it may be there, and  of 'lofty' intent.... maybe for goodness? one never really knows but that's the hope....

Even the Polish etymological dictionary them not exactly an honest or honourable peeps yea yea we know they had  a hard time but they just want the bling back they had 150 years ago... their etymological dic does speak of goodness...

The just maybe-magic just maybe of 'lofty intent.'..

unlike the English version of performing that whilst figuring how to stab you in the back when your dozing in your tent well away from any of them...

Even if they get a free pardon as they don't even KNOW that's what they're doing as they lost their simple philosophical cortex decades ago...

But you would have thought Mr GPT had some notion of The Sublime being a complext word and concept various scholars (as long as you dont include any of them except my many year customer Babb fellow of Oxford writing about...'it'...  THE Bible on it... a decade later " ughhhhh... i just cannot get there....volume three is what is IT??!!!....  but i do know one thing, it recreates itself every day..."

sadly the man i knew very well and had long engagements with over many years asking him please to share with the world what he was being paid to write thus far as he was dying.......who couldnt share anything despite being also Christian curate as he aged...

This is 15 years ago...

Anyway to the point Mr GPT not only had not one thought to share about the very subtle complexity in that world which DEFINES all art - the goodstuff... from the enlightenment...

it didnt even know what the simple (wrong) wikipedia version of the word was....

you aint got a HOPE in hell.....

when even ..... well

give up.

But i knew the future before even asking 'it' that test question.... and anyone who thinks that anything 'tech' can ever in any way have a fair mind is really stupid...

As it clearly was.....

(a decade of doing peace treaties between parents from 2006 - THE one group of persons who when you get their background one immediately knows they CANNOT compromise or listen or get over their own pathetic imnadequate arrogance was ALWAYS anyone in computing....  and then the very very close second place became any client i asked about their 'sprituality' if they said it was important and they only cared about manifestly good vibrations and healing all around...

infact errata they were as inhuman first equal as the geeks...no humanity in them...unable to understand that "sharing" a child means  with him/her too.... even if it was 95%  female child abductresses  with all those so so so c,lever even medical treatises on why mums brekky full of supplements and detoxins...

cant be replicated at dads and if Corro went there he would die immediately... but we still value dad as the beloved  equal spirit we prey to every day...

and thats no skit either...

funny things patterns.

Not funny when you find them to be templates for absolutely every copy cat

But nobody dare join the dots ....

maybe they cant see them.... good job i have a magnificent library of references blahh do blahh....

about the pasterregion...will keep me busy well beyond thisterone

I mean when you say to EVERY single landowner you work for witha  smile " if i die of a heart attack nobody helps us rural workin chaps  and most just nag and undermine as they clearly hate men i mean its been like this 20 years its not like any are original.......chuck me on the compost but i ask ONLY one thing you find Ralphs sickle and pass it on to lass.... " and you  just know that not one will have remembered your ONLY request of them.. even the next day

Anyway great art thats got a bit of Sublime sprinkled over it ... its still alive in my minds eye now and will be for a long time  as if i had been invited up to see the actual original 'etchings'

ohh yes thats a point maybe the 7.5% are honest.... i mean TRB a rare hero.... chief Gayman sing if you're glad to be.... cos of his superb War Baby

well it clearly  was a phase.....

as i hope his children have learned to make GREAT jokes about...

jokes cure all..... eventually

(but not being a Green under ZAc you will find when his first words in power were 'he should be locked up for his  kick it in the balls ...joke!" which is over my own line however as example to the peeps...only FREE SPEECH will save your planet....

pissin' on the polluters parade

and if Mister ZAc doesnt know that.... 

you havent a hope  even when hell boils away and your just left with a hard planet sized  ball of oxidised bathroom products 

(wow what a GREAT bit of imagery perhaps she can use but nobody ever ever ever believes they can really change and become even more sublime...) 

The Last Walk (as the one enjoyed talker couldnt be ... theres a word that rhymes with that ...but SHE told me to REMEMBER to prowl in HER woods!)

now...ALL literally ALL i care about is some beauty

but if one trudges through item two here, that rteally is THE one and only thing that therapises anyone even me....

All my words vids and audios have actually rather fine quickshot photos (from 15 years ago!) that quite poignantly also tell stories even if as i rarely emailed perhaps yes a few paras of poetical explanation makes them..understandable

 in my case that is rather not so interested in the 'mythical'

bullshit

But the real esteem - thats what its all about the endless for 15 years fat lanyardists bragging about how they are esteeming (or the ubiquitous Big Sisterspeak of 'empowering') people via their lanyards when it not only doesnt work like that

Its the exact opposite. As the only thing for many years i liked was being shyly pretty quietly unesteemed to bother saying much....

And even their endless 'empowered' will fall into the boggy mire at some point and being 'empowered' is the exact opposite of your rope ladder out

In fact the rope ladder to.... 'centredness' or whatever word is merely knowing over time that the you you ARE ...nobody can even imagine as you had to kindof pump the self up to become what you didnt become as deep down you are what you are...

but everyone will assume the exact opposite

and 'giving away' ones wish to do it in the beautiful version with lovely pictures is just as much the cure, to being human...

(as the battery wont last and that mode takes far far longer )

which everybody wants, but nobody dare ponder

The Third Sector (includes churches and all the slightly public cash funded). And The Source is their 'retreat', too. Poor Nigel won't have a HOPE of even understanding as they are clever unlike him

https://open.substack.com/pub/ralphschism/p/the-third-sector-includes-churches?r=2jdt8a&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

For the 'shy'; and true "centredness" for the brasher. The best real therapeutic 'work' of all the Jordans, Eckhearts, Gabors even Martíns and especially McGillchrists wont tell you, as they can't.

https://open.substack.com/pub/ralphschism/p/for-the-shy-and-true-centredness?r=2jdt8a&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

just a smattering i think they live with the above audios sort of even if every word for 3 years is all about oner same subject