My Blog # 014 ~ Endless Apologies

As it began so it shall end...

Greetings Sisters of the One True Planet, Her Majestress, Mater Earth. (Peace be upon her.)

In light of the current global low-frequency CRISIS, I feel now is the time for honesty on my part. On everyone's parts.

Firstly I apologise for those who only know my online presence. I concede this aspect of myself has been in limited availability over the years. Due to the onset of brutal electromagnetic hypersensitivity I started suffering shortly after my last post, I have been distancing from ALL electricity for a long time now. I'm not sure how long exactly. My offline self has reaped the benefits however and - although still very unhappy in my skin day-to-day - I continue to sacrifice ego and know there is a larger plan for me. For us all. So despite unhappiness, also much happiness. Happy despite tears. Many many tears, irregular IBS and decreasing EHD. This first apology culminates in the announcement herein of the killing-off of this blog. This online self no-more. I had pondered doing so with the advent of EHD but THE VIRUS coming into the world has solidified this decision.

Bringing me to a second apology: I apologise for contributing to the birthing of THE VIRUS. My constant negativity towards myself, my planet, my life, has added to the net-negativity imposed by us all on One True Planet. I truly believe my own negativity to be "the straw that broke the camels black". Knowing the introduction of 5G technology was going to have a BAD impact on Mater Earth, what did I do? What did any of us do? I used EHD as an excuse to avoid using FIRE to destroy all transmitters of electricity. The grid MUST be brought down if we are to return to our Natural Self. I self-loath and in turn THE VIRUS wreaks revenge. As below so above and beyond, I imagine? Drawn beyond the lime of treason. Push my envelopes and watch me flap. Oh blinding FAITH.

A third and final statement of apology avec proof of guilt: I end my blog as it began. Poetry. Revisiting my diary on "The Day Of The Virus" these are the words written GMT0353 31/12/19. I repeat these words as a prayer to the Earth Goddess. Please all, disconnect from your technology and connect with your fellow HOMOS. Forever in utero. Down with the Grid.

Sisters o' sisters
O' Mater Earth
Knead and sow
Plow and furrow
And in celestial womb
Grow

Yester inform
Unknowingly learn
And yearn earnings o'
Morrow's harvest
Slowing hereafter
Too soon

Hillock from stream
Hydration form steam
To each her own
And owned alone
Through great tidings
Below

Festoon sunder
Ineffectual plunder
Buzzard's Hat
Rhyming this not that
In underlying everlasting
Feminism
 

Everlasting peace,
R x

I smell like suicide

Feeling like Charlie and Craig Reid's
"Caledonian clown"
I reminisce and wish my
Scottish roots were somewhat more,
Prominent.

Have I lost my way?
I rediscover "Turning Stones" - it helps:
Judy Tzuke's philosophy of youth
"We'll go dreaming" forever-more
At least I hope; for now
I can but mope.

The man whose name rhymed with
Mandy, remains in my thoughts;
Such tragedy.

"Track 1" [a short story]

It was round about midnight when we rolled into Nebraska

How exactly we were going to hunt down our favoured Asian mystic in the light

- I was not sure

My thought train shattered by the crooning beside me -

Loretta was hungry and it dawned philosophical enlightenment would not be possible

with her a'caterwauling

Pulling into an all-night burger joint

A glint in the rearviewmirror reminds me of a spherical lampshade I used to own.

"Man of the moment" Steven Bunting serves up several super-sized and as the lukewarm meat ingests I reflect on my journey

Back in the Caddy' the sounds of "Devia Kokomo" from the radio blast

If intrauterine genocide punk were a style - these cats sure played it well

Her belly full of meat, Loretta drifts off beside me

The radio barely audible over her snoring

Pulling up at a red light I just make out the announcement "...war"

President Robert Buttons taking on China? O ladyboy-ladyboy!

Like my fifth time on acid suddenly this trip's taken a turn for the worse

And that's when it dawned -

I'd come all this way for an Asian mystic to predict my future?

My future had just fallen into place

- I needed to escape this country before the draft came in.

I'm heading for the coast - it's decided

First task, leave Loretta somewhere

Second task?

"Another Portrait of Society"

An untitled automatic writing piece from 2012 that I went on to recite in a Glenson Heart McBrute jam. Subsequently released on the "You Can Call Me Doctor Balls" album under the title "Another Portrait of Society" in reference to my 2006 prose.

---

Piece by piece
How the parts come together
Rise and take hold
What he knows she feels
Death and his maiden
The portrait looking on
Who leads the leader
Who writes the song?
Foot in hand
A clumsy dance
Struggles for resolve
Finds its way somehow -
With trepidation
A sweeping sound
And we're off
Imperfect cadence
To finish off

"Andante con moto"
Said the weathered face
What a shame I thought
Of course Schubert knew what to do
Electronic glitch:
Welcome to now
Gone the aspiration of old
Still, to experience
When all's said and done
A merry old barnacle
Who sweats out fun
"Anne Frank" he'd shout mocking
A somewhat beleaguered attempt
At humour - missing a vital
Point of contention:
She only had one leg.
Does humour belong in music?
Does humour belong in comedy?
Does humour belong in geometry?
Does subjectivity belong in life?

"Hot Space"

Hot Space
Red, green, blue, yellow
Cubes compressed to two dimensions
Chuck Berry sings -
Only on television
Where one day we'll all go to die
Yellow trousers, Saturday Night Live
I wonder if lemons will evolve
And if so, into what?
Perhaps a cure for cancer: aid for all!
A raucous guitar enters
The bongos play full speed
Will this cocaine groove ever calm?
I'm too high to care
And sex enters the mind
Once again, blame the tube
Effervescent signals
Keep us wired - sleep is for the weak?

Hot space, hot space
Please God no!
Don't make me listen to hot space.

Red, green, blue, yellow:
It's that woman from that film,
You know the one - with the mousse
Well how she went downhill
Not at all like me.
The drums always clash
And there's noise in the air
But when voices fill the landscape
We find some relief
Harmonies swell the frequencies
And finally some relief.

To be someone
Reject something
Then take it back
And start again

Red, green, blue, yellow
Hot space, hot space
Please God no! no! no!
Don't make me listen to that again...

"Heroin Daze"

Heroin Daze
How did it come to this
Where did it all go wrong
What happened to that face
What happened to those songs?

My insides coming out
My outside caving in

How did it come to this?
Where did we lose our way
Craving for the skanky brown
As the horse courses through the vein

My brain is melting slow
That slow melt feels so good
Opiate visions light the path
Between Moses and the Burning Bush

A final mustard tooth
Aching in the gum
I'm trying to scale the wall
I'm searching for a hit

These days, these days
These days, these days
In a glorious
Heroin daze

"Now Knowing This..."

Despite having been written late 2009, "Now Knowing This..." wasn't included on my contribution to Hope And Monet until the summer 2010 recording sessions upon rediscovering the lyrics. At the time of authorship I consulted Robert Heart who advised it would make the words more accessible if the word "I" was changed to "Keith Chegwin". I have published the original text here to avoid any legal issues.

---

NOW KNOWING THIS (F*CK OFF YOU UNGRATEFUL SH*T)

Does it show through confidence,

The lie behind this smile?

Find your morals questionable, no lie.

Wonder how you’re functioning, I resign.

From motion, reduction, inertia on my side

From madness, regression, confusion by my side

Forever, forever, I hide

This game will cease without those caught in the web, the problem is you know it only too well

A spider weaves on and on shaping things to come blindly deals out consequence

A cry for help affecting those around so selfless in conceit

I can’t believe the cheek – It hurts them all, it hurts them

… they’ll never say

Find your words disheartening, no lie.

Do you hear my confidence? I try.

It’s time.

From motion, reduction, inertia on your side

From madness, repression, the start of a new life

It’s alright, you’re okay, we’ll see things through somehow

Keep saying, keep hoping, we’ll see things through

From motion, emotion

Forever, forever

Electrostatic current, by my side

A flickering flame will keep me warm, tonight

Cut out the photograph, the memories it hides

Sedation closing in, no bad dreams tonight

Does it show through confidence,

The knowing I was right

Please don’t take things personally

You know that I was…

Through motion, direction, you know I’m on your side

Through madness, past caring, this cannot ever reprise

It’s alright, we’re okay, seeing things through at last

Keep saying, keep hoping, keep knowing, forever…

"The Morning Saga"

Written as Steve and I were finishing off Hard Rock Hotel, The Garibaldis' by this point a two-man outfit. I was mightily depressed at my close friend David's departure and from this void came a burst of violent creativity. In one-sitting I wrote the music and words for "The Morning Saga", a seven-part suite; an acoustic demo version of which featured on my hastily compiled debut solo album, From the Wonderous Mind... in the summer of 2010. It is an early example of automatic writing, or more accurately, 'automatic song-writing.'

---

THE MORNING SAGA
Monday
Morning the start of the week can I face another seven days? Morning time to get up what lies ahead I don’t know and never shall unless I rise. It’s Monday my friend, it’s Monday my friend. Monday I feel so rough, recover, stains on the sheets; who did I do? Last night in a daze? The start of the week seven more days…

Tuesday
Tuesday morning I feel quite refreshed, the sun is shining to ease me out of rest. In several hours I’ll be back on my job, kind of depressing, I feel like eating hog: so I ate and I ate and I ate and I ate, I licked the last of the hog right off of my plate: a hearty meal at the start of the day help’s the brain, that’s what they say. Half an hour later and I’m on the train to work, the day seems so much brighter than yesterdays depressing murk; the train’s rather packed but I’m not claustrophobic which is a relief, cos’ if I was, chances are I’d have passed out by now. So I travelled and I travelled and then I got to work, the boss said I looked a mess which really did quite hurt! I ignored his comments and sat down at my desk, where after a lengthy burp I had a heart attack.

Wednesday
Wake up, smell of disinfectant in the air. I look up and guess who is standing there - the doctor! Says hello “You had a heart attack, now you’re in hospital, pal” Oh thank you, I tell him and get a strong urge to eat a cow - I say to him: Doctor is there any chance of you purchasing a cow for me to eat? He turns and laughs says “you are a silly idiot!” Excuse me? I say - he says “you don’t realise why you had a heart attack do you?” No, is my reply, he says it’s cos’ I consumed a hog all in at the same time I like my food I told him, needless to say, he wasn’t impressed: “Well you’re doing fine” he told me “just hold back on the hog’s and don’t get depressed or stressed” I packed a little suitcase with my bed gown, said “goodbye, nurses! Hope I’ll never see you around!”

Thursday
Thursday hits you a like a train but does not stop there only two more days to go then the weekend is here! Get up give the wife a kiss - wow forgot I even had a wife - where was she yesterday? While I was fighting for my life? Why do I like Thursdays so much? I just don’t know. It’s only past mid-week which this week’s been slow when did I get married? Christ, do I have kids? Why do I like Thursdays so much? I just don’t know? Time to take the kids to school - what happened on Monday? They must have taken themselves along, wow this is getting weird. Time to visit the doctor ask him if this is normal: to forget you’ve got a wife and kids, I think I’m going to faint…

Friday
Wake in a daze: I’ve been here before… Distinct smell, polished floors? Yep. It’s hospital. Twice in one week. Some record… What happened yesterday? Here’s the doc: excuse me! "Ah, yes, back again are we! I thought you said you were to avoid us? Not doing a very good job are we sir? Well I suppose you’re wondering what’s wrong? Well the reason you’re here is that your mind is playing tricks on you. No, you don’t have children. No, you don’t have a wife. You’re just a dirty old no-gooder, who dreamt of having a job and a real life. Ever woken up to stains on the bed? That’s because you’re a paedophile. You should be in prison but they let you out on the basis that you mind was all screwed up. Every day is different to you. You put yourself in new scenarios, you could say your life is one big saga – every day you’re someone new. Yesterday you fainted, hit your head after walking aimlessly around the streets shouting for your wife and children. On Tuesday, you had a heart attack because you ate a whole hog in under 17 minutes – thinking you had to be at work. You turned up in some office and no-one knew who you were. But look on the bright side, you have no life, but, it’s Friday morning!" I’ve woken up, it’s Friday! The end of the week what more can I say? Gonna go out get boozed up take home some girl let my anger out. I get my kicks from beating little girls it makes me feel big, I like it if their hair’s curled. People think I’m bad but it turns me on so look out Clapham cos’ I’m on the pull! Friday! Pack my bag again leave his damn ward maybe go on holiday? The Caribbean looks nice at this time of year, think I’ll do some robbing to fund my trip. I get my kicks from being a nasty man, I go through phases I just don’t understand; sometimes I forget myself - believe I’m someone that I’m not - but now my head’s clean I’m gonna party like its 1994!

Saturday
Aching head, what did I do last night? I’m lying cold on the floor feel like I’ve had a fight. Come to my senses, look all around a familiar sight greets me this morning: I’m in prison again. I'm in prison again. Policeman comes to call says I’ve done wrong, I beat to death a kid - a girl - who I impregnated. I swear that’s the fourth this month, I’m getting used to doing time; drugs and drink and stuff, memories of a past life. I'm in prison again. I'm in prison again. Time to get a move on, time to go to court - I know this is deja-vu of one particular sort. I think amongst my fantasies, in one life I lived a life - a butcher by the day a murderer by night; I'm in prison again...

Sunday
Up all night since yesterday all cos’ I’m on the run, no time to sleep no time to think just run-run run-run run! No looking back to see if the coppers are catchin’ up, if I get caught this time round they’ll throw away the key. I’ve lived a thousand lives and all in one week, I've been so many faces I forget which is me! No point talking my way outta this one if I did what they said: murderer? Paedophile? That sounds about right, I’d be better off dead. Hate, pain, all in one week, no refrain. On the run, no turning back, I could just stop running and have a laugh - but I won’t. Monday: start of the week, Tuesday: ate to much hog, Wednesday: hospital daze, Thursday: one of my turns, Friday: tripping out, Saturday: if only I could remember! Mornings pass here and there who knows what the next seven days will bring...