We've reversed the LJ order to present these entries in chronological format. This is the December 12 2005 update, the last one archived.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/daver2323/


Date: 2004-01-29 15:23 Subject: house by the school Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Gloomy Sunday - Lydia Lunch We're moving soon, this house is too small, and we don't know where to put all the things we've found. The neighbour has begun to complain. I've tried to make him quiet, but he closes the door too quickly. I think he's scared, why not, everybody should be. I want to move, I want to get away from by the house by the school. It's derlict now, the old man had gone quite mad, he told me that there were demons hiding in the walls of his house. At first he was afraid of them, he said they made fun of him, and tortured his dead wife behind the wall in his bathroom. After a while he grew to like them, and we wanted to be with them. He told me he had bought twenty dogs from pet shelter, he said that he'd leave the dogs in the house while under bridge by the train station. When went home the demons would have possessed the dogs. Then the demons would be real, and he could finally 'touch them'. I found the old man dead on a street bench about a month ago, it looked like he never got back home after all, which is a shame, because I only ever wanted him to be happy. I still hear the dogs at night, they bark and yelp behind the walls, sometimes they sound so shrill I think they may be in pain. But the dogs in the house keep me awake at night, so I say let them scream I care not, we're moving soon. Dave
Date: 2004-01-30 11:02 Subject: Bloody Mary Security: Public Mood: awake Music: My Dark Life - Elvis Costello no, I mean the other Mary. The Virgin Mary. When I was a child I saw her weeping tears of blood. Images stick with me. I met the girl at the Electric Ballroom about two years ago. I think her name was Rebecca, but she may have lied. Like me she was flying on Fusion Taps. She had brown eyes, her pupils were dilated from the pill, her eyes looked especially dark. I went home with her. My Fusion Tap was starting to wear, but she still very much alive. She said she was going to get a glass of water from the kitchen. I woke up to hear her screaming. I stumbled into the kitchen I tipped over her coffee table. The white tiled floor was covered with streaks of blood. It looked sort of orange I remember. Rebecca had torn her eyes out with a fork, she made quite a mess. She was shouting 'I saw God! I've seen God!' She was weeping tears, something seemed funny about the whole. But I managed not to laugh. She then quietly slide down the door of her fridge, knocking off shark shaped fridge magnet, and said nothing. I crept back into the living room, picked up my coat and left. I'd think she be wanting to have sex anymore. Pity, I quite liked her, even at the end. It's strange, everytime I see the Virgin Mary, I think of Rebecca. I never saw her again. She never saw me either. Dave
Date: 2004-01-31 11:25 Subject: Skillet's Bird Security: Public Mood: awake Music: No Thugs In Our House - XTC My art agent - Raymond Skillet summoned me into town yesterday. His exhibition 'Matter in Practice' for the Tate Modern is drawing to completion, the Board of Health and Safety are onto him. I should not even be involved, but I need the money, I have an affinity with Skillet, despite his perversions and the utterly foul Aniseed - the teenage prostitute he's currently dating. When I reached Wardour Street, Skillet was standing on the ledge of his office block. It seemed like the pressure had got to him. I rushed inside to stop him, he stilled owed me 46 pounds for my last commission. When I reached his office, it seemed that there'd be some sign of struggle. It was probably Aniseed, she had a habit of flinging her own excrement at the walls when she got upset. I'd never been to her house, which is a good thing. In the centre of his conference room there was an empty birdcage lying on the desk, gently rocking to and fro. I stepped out on the ledge with Skillet and said hi. I set about trying to talk him back inside when he interrupted me, apparently, his latest purchase - a Madagascan SabreBill, had escaped from his birdcage and was now loose in his office. It had already killed his secretary. The sabrebill had a penchant for meat, for human lips. Skillet thought what it'd done to the temp was hilarious. He moved out onto the ledge to escape from the rampaging cockateel and was waiting for the Fire services to come and get him down. It took about another hour, I should have worn my coat, it was very cold yesterday. Dave
Date: 2004-02-01 23:24 Subject: CopperTop Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Invisible Sun - The Police There was missing mail, and this happens quite often, hidden it seems, behind the bins next to our house. Someone is tucking away my mail, I'm sure it isn't the postman. I received a letter from the Dept of Health and Safety, I thought it would be in connection to Skillet, but it wasn't. I seemed that an old friend of mine had been released from RedAngel Hospice after almost five years. CopperTop was back roaming the streets, no doubt looking for his mother again. It has been so long since I've seen CopperTop that I can't even remember his real name. CopperTop was a nickname that the police gave him, connected to both colour and smell. He'd killed his mother by accident. He was trying to get back into the womb, but he only got as far as his head before the Armed Response Unit caught up with him. Poor soul, never knew much about biology. He'd never fit in there again, but he'd had a good stab at it with a retractable blade. When the police finally wrenched out his dead mother, the blood had congealed all over his head. I imagine it must have looked like a toffee apple. One time he asked why the whole idea hadn't worked, I told him it was because it wasn't his birthday. Dave
Date: 2004-02-02 12:05 Subject: Closer now Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Red Skeletons- Coil Something was screaming in the hallway again, at first I thought it was a child playing a prank, but when I looked out through the keyhole the creature throwing a tantrum had fur. coarse black fur. You see all people break down into two categories, one is the Clown with a Meat Cleaver, the other is the Monkey with a Straight Razor. I am the latter, I know this instinctively, The thing outside leaves blood wherever it goes, it speaks with an old woman's voice and whispers by the door 'The sun has died. The war is about to begin. It is time to play the Ocean Game' Dave
Date: 2004-02-03 19:29 Subject: Night Terrors Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Pagan Poetry - Bjork When they came into my room, it was late. I was asleep, like thick syrup. I can't see their faces, but they are slim, and beautiful, silhouetted by the window. Street lights have made the blue night sky into brown. It is all I see when they lift me up, I don't want to go yet, I feel bad, unwell. They know, but we have to go. I think I am dying. We are in the other place now, we are deep down now. Did someone say something? I think I'm starting cry, but it won't come. I touch their skin, reaching out. It doesn't feel right, distant material. One is infront of me, I think it is a woman. She holds out a photo I'm weeping out loud now, there's something angry growing inside me now. I take the photograph, and leave. When I wake, it is light. The sky is grey, vast and wide. Dave
Date: 2004-02-04 22:46 Subject: Black Satin Beauty Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Afrika Shox - Leftfield There was a note pushed through my door this morning. It's from Skillet, he's playing the Ocean Game. All it says is 'Vauxhall Lane Corner, shop window' he's also stapled a fifty pound note to the paper. Skillet loves the Ocean Game, especially when he gets to expand upon the rules. It's also work treading carefully when Skillet starts playing, it usually gets quite bloody. I go to the shop as requested and search for clues. It doesn't take long to see the tea stained advert:- 'Black Satin Beauty, evening hours, couples and professionals welcome. Hourly fee 50/ no feathers.' and an address I go over around nine, just after the soap operas have ended. This is preferable when dealing with Skillet's whores. This is also no ordinary evening in a dingy bedsit, this is the Ocean Game. So I drop a Fusion Tap and pocket a scalpel just in case thing s get skittish. The buzzer on the ground floor isn't working, but the door is open all the same, I look inside the passage way. Black, shiny refuse bags line the corridor, they move and writhe as if some small things are trapped inside, mewling like newborn kittens. I dare not look inside just yet, or else the effects of the Fusion Tap will sky rocket. Black Satin Beauty was on the fourth floor, so I pick up one of the screaming black bags and head upstairs. Skillet would want me to throw one into the mix. I can now smell stale sweat and bitter milk. She opens the door and instantly I recognise exactly what she is, the dark red eyes are just left of human. She's one of the 'drugk' configurations. I just haven't see one as far developed as this one, the way her black hair blurs and melds with the forehead. The translucent skin, objects contained within the chest cavity, placed there to make her more efficient. She tells me her name is Joxxy, and that I should come back when the weather gets better. She takes the black bag. Joxxy wants me to come inside, but the phone rings. I tell her it's probably Skillet, and I leave as my Fusion Tap starts to make the wall shimmer Dave
Date: 2004-02-05 23:42 Subject: The Grass Station Security: Public Mood: awake Music: A Small Plot of Land - David Bowie I thought the Old Woman had died years ago, long before I'd first heard the awful stories about her. Obviously the intensity of her legend had sustained her. Skillet told me she'd been in operation since the sixties, in a way I'm glad I didn't hear about her when I was a child. I knew it was all real, I passed by the Grass Station on the train some time ago. It was the place where she performed the abortions. In the early sixties she'd been involved in a roaring trade and she was apparently very cheap, and accommodating. The Grass Station had no name, it had been disused long before anyone could remember. But the weeds and grey vegetation had burst through the concrete giving the platforms a lawn like quality. Few women ever wanted back what she'd taken out of them, but she always insisted on asking if she may keep the 'cast off' as she called it. Nothing more would ever be said. Then one day a boy would wanted to be a father but never got the choice when to beat the old woman's skull in with an iron poker. She just laughed at him, cackled at him. Then she opened her long coat and showed him what she'd done. She'd sewn them all on, she'd made a creche of her body. They just hung off her ancient withered skin, time and the elements had ruined them, an abominable stench was what they now shared. The boy just whispered the words 'Dead Leaves', the insanity obliterating his mind clutching at thoughts and conceptions before he was gone forever. The Grass Station was the last stop in his journey, I doubt he's a father nowadays. Dave
Date: 2004-02-08 18:09 Subject: Bad Behaviour Security: Public Mood: awake Music: I Bleed - Pixies Things turned ugly at the Supermarket today. CopperTop phoned and wanted to meet me at the magazine rack at the front of the shop but when I got there. There was some sort of commotion. Why anyone would be foolish enough to start an argument with CopperTop bewilders me. He stands at almost 6 foot and four inches, and the madness he exudes seems to rise from his head like black fire. But, it was fairly typical. His opponent was a middle aged woman, struggling vainly to remain within the confines of fashion. It was a loosing battle thanks to a fake orange tan. Apparently, CopperTop had skipped her place in the queue. She'd been standing ten feet from the cashiers till, gushing obscenely into her mobile while the shoppers infront of her had been siphoned passed the counter. Coppertop had aimlessly wandered in front of her, clutching a sandwich. She raised her voice to stop him, relying on the masses of Sunday shoppers to prevent Coppertop from causing a scene. She tried to stare him down with pursed lips. CopperTop snatched the the phone from her and proceeded to ram it into her ear. I should have stopped him then, but I didn't like the bag she was holding. The first strike at her head shattered the casing around the antenna, leaving a sharp ragged edge. The second swipe burrowed in deep, spraying blood across three aisles. The punctured wound made a shrill whistling sound, as though the screaming woman's head was deflating. But it wasn't. I walked over and removed a packet of sliced avocados from the woman's basket, it'd been doused in blood, and it looked expensive. I told the woman to find another queue and stop bothering my associate. She wasn't listening, I pushed her over, and pulled Coppertop outside. The tuna mayo sandwich had been pulverised in his clenched fist. I told him to go home and get cleaned up. We can always meet later in the week. Dave
Date: 2004-02-10 23:19 Subject: Crash Dead Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Suburbia - Pet Shop Boys It was about 11 last night when I came across the car. A boy racer had wrapped it around the big tree at the bottom of the hill. It's dark area down there, a lot of bad things happen down there at night. Not all of them are my fault. I looked in through the window and found he was still inside. The blood smeared across his face looked almost black under the moonlight. He looked sort of dead, so did the three other passengers. Two boys, and a girl. There wasn't one who looked older than seventeen. Everything was so quiet. Skillet still hadn't paid me for the previous commission so I opened the door and started to go through the driver's pockets for money. I thought he wouldn't really need it anymore. The girl in the back seat looked up and stared at me through crimson stained eyes. I said I was sorry, but I thought everyone was dead. I told her she didn't look well, and that she should go and see a doctor. The other passengers started to lift their heads and yawn. The girl said it was alright, they were all dead now. Except for the driver, Darren. She said it was his fault they were all dead, but they should be going now. They were meant to go to the old burnt out shop under the bridge, it wasn't far from here. It was where all the dead went, but I should stay away. They left the car and wandered aimlessly down into the black. I was about to go myself, when I stopped and looked at Darren, slumped across the distorted steering wheel. I thought I should really do something. I took a shard of broken glass from the crumpled bonnet, and, I sliced his nose off. I threw it over a hedge as I went home. The foxes should have got it before the police did. Dave
Date: 2004-02-12 00:00 Subject: The Wedding List Security: Public Mood: awake Music: First To Leave - Elvis Costello It was easy to get inside, I've only been to a couple of weddings. I wasn't invited to this one, but it doesn't matter. I was playing the Ocean Game. I was looking for the person in the photo. The bride was preparing to throw her bouquet. I was looking for a sharp instrument at the buffet table. Then I saw him. He was standing outside the main hall, by the string quartet, drinking a Martini. He was middle aged I think, but he looked happy. There was a sparkle in his eye, I don't see that very often. Not in the nightlife that Skillet provides for me. When I see how pleased he was, in his own quiet little way, I almost stopped. I think, there's something wrong with me, that But it passed, that isolated feeling evaporated and I strode over and slammed the steak knife into his chest, just as the crowd cheered, As the knife entered, I felt something. Like the consistency of black. The blade's tip pierced it, and finally I understood. The man was going to die, even without my knife in his fading chest. Just a few moments, a heart attack. I think. They wanted him, they sent me to collect. Blood was seeping into his beard, and he whispered, why. I told him it wouldn't be long, the music was changing. The party had stopped, they were all just staring. Blank expressions like the dead kids in the car. I told him, he needed to go, to the burnt out shop beneath the bridge. I tried to pull out the knife, but it scraped against a rib, so I left it there as he begun to slide down. I looked round at the guests, the sound of violins hung in the air, and I sniffed out loud, as though the prelude to tears. I raised my blood stained hand to my face, and rubbed my top lip with my cuff. Did I know him? I left the hotel, outside, the air was cold. I don't like this game anymore. Dave
Date: 2004-03-03 15:03 Subject: The New Day Security: Public Mood: awake Music: More Than This - Peter Gabriel I can't remember the last two weeks of my life. I wake and see red spots in front of my eyes, and I can hear the rain is heavy outside. I am in the new house, the window in my room is narrow. Outside, in the rain, in the slate grey sky, bloody entrails are floating like, crimson angels. I reach out and count them one, two, three, four. Is this part of the Ocean Game? The last thing I remembered was attending one of Skillet's functions on Wardour Street. I'd just left the wedding, and I didn't feel good. I wanted to go home, but Skillet phoned. He said he'd heard, and that he couldn't stop laughing. There was a strange sound in my ear, like meat being sliced. I put on my coat and stumbled into the... then, I was at Skillet's party. The room is crowded but nobody has a face, except the.. why was I talking to that girl? My words didn't make any sense. I blinked, and then everyone's staring at me. The girl asked me why I was screaming just then, I said I wasn't. Skillet put another Absinthe in my hand and led me out the room. I collapsed down in a cubicle, and rested my head on the toilet seat. Outside, the entrails have grown more animated, droplets of rain are thrown from their slimy surfaces. Like Skillet, I find myself laughing uncontrollably.
Date: 2004-03-05 16:32 Subject: House Call Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Oompa Radar - Goldfrapp Skillet phone me yesterday morning to see if I was still alive. He told me that I'd been in hospital during my black out. I asked him what was wrong with me, he said he'd rather see me in person before going into any details. The last thing he said was that Dept of Health and Safety had been informed, and that they'd be paying me a House Call. That was this morning. It was two doctors. They were both bald, and wearing long fur coats. One of them was wearing small, round glasses, one of the lenses was cracked. They made me feel like a child again. After we were seated, the man with the glasses reached into his briefcase and pulled out some sort of medical apparatus. He wanted to do an eye examination, but it needed to be done over by the window. Once he had placed me at the proper position he held the device infront of my left eye. 'Can you see the clumplike branches on the trees outside?' I said I could. All that remained now was for them to extract a blood sample and then they'd be gone. The doctors left with just over a pint of my blood in what I think was a pickle jar. The bespectacled doctor said they'd be coming by weekly from here on in. They got back into their rusty white van. And drove away. I didn't mention the floating entrails that I'd seen hanging the sky two days previous. They might have thought it suspicious.
Date: 2004-03-10 23:44 Subject: Tate Modern Incident Security: Public Mood: awake Music: your lucky day in hell - Eels A word to all aspiring modern artists. If you're going to blatantly rip off radical works of art involving animals encased in glass, like Skillet. Make sure the animal is dead before laminating it. Dave
Date: 2004-04-21 13:08 Subject: Bottled Goods Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Secret Life - SoftCell I finally got to meet up again with CopperTop last night. I decided to take one of the large knives from the kitchen since these excursions tend to get quite messy. We get off the train at Camden, and once the crowds have shuffled toward the exit we find a drunk girl slumped down by the stairs. In one hand she's holding a half finished bottle of MD 20/20 Apricot and in her other hand is a mobile phone. Her face is redden by crying she's got a small piece of silver foil, probably from a cigarette packet stuck in her unkempt hair. She looks young, probably about sixteen, no self respecting drunk would wear that much fake gold. A security guard in a blue coat is trying to get her up quite roughly. CopperTop storms over and pushes the man in blue aside. He then gently eases the drunken girl to an upright albeit shaky stance. The girl attempts to thank CopperTop in a quite appalling, sniveling sort of way. CopperTop leans forward and whispers in her ear 'How would you like me to give you something you'll really cry about' There's an exchange of looks that seems to linger in the frozen air and time. Then the girl starts to wail, which then rapidly becomes screaming. Her light grey tracksuit bottoms start to dampen. CopperTop has got inside her, he's managed to reach inside and snap something. I've only met a few people who can do this. They just focus on the victim and with a single word they just ruin them. I sigh and head upstairs to the ticket aisles. A second later CopperTop catches up with me. He grabs my shoulder and presses me up against the wall. 'Listen!' he hisses through an obscene grin. The white tiled walls carry the anguished screams of the drunken girl smoothly up through the tunnels. 'God Dave' he says 'if I could just bottle that .... I'd be a fucking millionaire by now.' Dave
Date: 2004-05-08 00:44 Subject: Cherry Six Model Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Ashes to Ashes - David Bowie I woke up last night at 4 in the morningcovered in blood and grass stains. My throat was sore and felt like my skin was on fire. The warm weather always does this to me, so I'm expecting a rather hectic summer. Somehow I'd managed to make it back to my bedroom, the birds outside had already begun the dawn chorus. I leaned outside and told them to be quiet. It reminded me that Black Satin Beauty had told me to come over when the weather got better. So I got dressed and went outside. The hall and stairway have been scrawled with obscenities for the past two weeks, I think it's the apelike thing's doing. I've been meaning to read what it's written. It might give clues about the next round of The Ocean Game. Joxy was still up when I got round to her bedsit there was nothing squirming in the refuse bags this time, so it might have been just the effects of a fusion tab afterall. Joxy asked me if I'd come over to score. I said no, I just wanted to sit around and kiss her for awhile. Joxy said it'd be okay and let me in. She was sweating profusely, the floor was covered in damp plastic sheets. Joxy told me that this month she was exerting Queen Tangerine for her suppliers. The sweat collected on the sheets was 'pure source' and in the morning she'd gather up the residue and siphon it into bottles. She ruffled my hair and smiled 'You can take home a free sample' It was then that I noticed a bloated four foot lamprey eel latched onto her arm. It was coiled tightly just above the elbow, and its suckermouth was plunged deep into the wrist. It had a barcode tattooed on its side. I asked Joxy what it was. It was a Cherry Six model Hypodermic. She'd had it installed by the factory. Apparently it was a good one, all thanks to loyal service. It aided the process she said. I told her it made me want to retch and she ought to put a long sleeve shirt on before I hurled on the goods. I left Joxy just around nine in the morning. The birds had stopped singing. I whistled on the way home. Dave
Date: 2004-06-04 23:40 Subject: Death to the Chimeras Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Mr Pink Eyes - The Cure Joxy taught me what she calls the 'Fomorian Trick' last night. Apparently we all have a little of it inside us. The trick is focus your hatred and rage. I have so much to give. In a short while you start to feel warm, the smell of intense chemicals hang in the air. All colours become stale. The anger gets so fierce you feel like laughing. The moment your lips part, a thick black liquid trickles forth. This substance is hot, and dangerous. Some of it fell on my leg and scaulded it. It hurt but I was too exhilirated to care. I have created something truly great. I have decided to use it, to re establish order in my life. I think there are rogue elements in my life which are not real. They are like chimeras, tissue tigers. I don't know what is what, but it's alright I have so much to give. Daver
Date: 2004-09-11 17:17 Subject: Mr NoGood Security: Public Mood: awake Music: like cockatoos - The Cure I didn't sleep much at all last night. Joxy is dead, at least I hope she is. I have been working at The Factory over the last three weeks. Skillet has yet to pay for the work produced fo r the dreadful, and in some cases tragic exhibition at the Tate Modern. The papers are calling it the 'Blue Monday Catastrophe'. Skillet had tried to replicate the 80's music video but he used the wrong breed of dog. And glued tennis balls to the feet of a Doberman and then placed it on a sheet of polystyrene . The dog was getting quite upset so he thought he could calm it down bygivingitsixgramsof angel dust. The Doberman proceeded to maul a ten year old boy. A week later, the Tate decided to close down the exhibition, and I didn't get paid. 'If it weren't for Skillet's misfortunate, I'd be a happier person today' The Factory used to produce the Cherry Model Six Hypodermic, but it has upgraded since then. The latest model on the factory floor is the 'HammerHead Blackslick 560'. I'm told it stores binary orgasms. Every night my head is filled with the ripe odour of ether, giving the capture and packaging of the Hammerheads an almost e uphoric quality. Benny the Foreman told me that I wasn't pulling my weight on the evenings shifts. Four days ago I pulled his weight into one of the breeding vats. The Hammerheads grew quite friendly after I had slit his throat and doused them in his blood. Occassionall'y parts of Benny come through melded onto the hypodermics. Last night one of them had his left eye on it's back. I was about to laugh out loud, when I heard my name being whispered over by the brown, stained window. I wipe away the grime and I look outside. In the car pack I see a Black Chrysler, there is some sort of commotion inside. Then I see Joxy being dragged out a side door by what I thought at first was human. It was wearing a tattered yellow cloak. I think it had insect legs. It thrusts Joxy's head towards me and points up at the window. It then leans forward and whispers something I cannot make out into her ear. It releases her as she slowly starts to scream and wail. I see again the power of the selected words. \It looks as though Joxy is having a stroke, her whole contracting in the direction of her burning right red ear. I can\ only watch as she fall down onto one knee and then the other. It is then that I know she is dying. Moments later Joxy lies cold on the ground. The creature leans forward and places a note behind her ear. Then it is gone. The black car is just screeching out of the factory gates when I reach Joxy. Her body is as cold and white as marble. A splattered trail of blood is running from her ear like spidery fingers. The note read Ocean Game Rule 25 Changes cannot occur within the course of one day. -- I am Mr NoGood Dave
Date: 2004-10-02 14:21 Subject: Bathroom Security: Public Mood: awake Music: whistling wind My own voice wakes me from my sleep, I say I am in the bathroom. I rise up and see the light from under the bathroom door. I'm in there. I'm in the bathtub and I've slit my wrists up to my elbows. At first I don't know why I've done this. I'm using the blood to fill in the gaps but it won't be enough. I go inside, I know my face but that is all. I've changed somehow. I look up at myself standing at the doorway with waves of hostility. I'm glad to finally recognise my disposable enemy. I sit down on the floor across from myself watch us die. 'Would you like to know what The Ocean Game is?' 'It is the inescapable truth - that thought devours the time and the body. That the hand that supports you is your own and no other, you are the enemy and consolation. We kill ourselves'. I peel off the skin from my arm and pass it to my self and say 'Throw this out to the dogs outside. They're waiting' They ... no, I want to know what I want I look up from the bathtub and say "I want you to dread tomorrow morning, and every morning there on" I awoke this morning, and I was afraid'. Dave
Date: 2004-10-30 10:45 Subject: God and the Angels Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Corporate World - Dust Brothers Exhibition Space courtesy of Jeffrey F1:- I've cut my hand on the ragged rim of another can of hotdogs. The meat itself is useless, Skillet informs me, it is the brine we need to fill the moat. So far we have emptied 737 cans of hotdogs into a large plastic moat encircling the ultimate representation of god - the Marabou Stork. Unlike other art projects involving animalsdevised by Skillet, the Marabou Stork hasn't attacked anyone yet. We then unleash eight conger eels into the brownn punngent water. They are the Angels of Briney Heaven. I think, I have, seen this in a dream. The Marabou Stork unfolds its wings as if in anticipation of a crucifixion and observes me with a cold black eye. Selected words rake my mind 'The Ocean Game is reconfiguring Beware the colour of Midnight Blue Winter is the domain of Rule Three' The Marabou Stork closes his wings and lowers his head Skillet tells me my nose is bleeding and asks if I fancy getting drunk. Dave
Date: 2005-01-28 13:09 Subject: Leaving Security: Public Music: This is the end - Andy Partridge You are the town and we are the clock. We are the guardians of the gate in the rock The Two On your left and on your right In the day and in the night, We are watching you. Wiser not to ask just what has occurred To them who disobeyed our word; To those We were the whirlpool, we were the reef, We were the formal nightmare, grief And the unlucky rose. Climb up the crane, learn the sailor's words When the ships from the islands laden with birds Come in Tell your stories of fishing and other men's wives: The expansive moments of constricted lives In the lighted inn. But do not imagine we do not know Nor that what you hide with such care won't show At a glance Nothing is done, nothing is said, But don't make the mistake of believing us dead: I shouldn't dance. We're afraid in that case you'll have a fall. We've been watching you over the garden wall For hours. The sky is darkening like a stain Something is going to fall like rain And it won't be flowers. When the green field comes off like a lid Revealing what was much better hid: Unpleasant. And look, behind you without a sound The woods have come and are standing round In deadly crescent. The bolt is sliding in its groove, Outside the window is the black remov- ers van. And now with sudden swift emergence Comes the women in dark glasses and the humpbacked surgeons And the scissor man. This might happen any day So be careful what you say Or do. Be clean, be tidy, oil the lock, Trim the garden, wind the clock, Remember the Two. -- W. H. Auden
Date: 2005-03-19 00:27 Subject: Briny Heaven Security: Public Mood: awake Music: MeninBlack - The Stranglers Mr Nogood has crossed thehills to my new abode. You can neither escape nor divert the Ocean Game, and I am to get my first glimpse of Briny Heaven, and I know now that is it My turn. The air in heaven is brackish, all colours saturate and in the murky corners … the Marabou Storks stalk aimlessly on the verges of the yawning Outer Black. Razor sharp haloes adorn their scab-encrusted heads – I know the way now He sees me, and himself in me. The mystery man is either one or the infinite and as I think this I feel as though the saber like bills of the carrion birds are scraping on my skull. His first words are little more than a helium induced giggle (I opt for another photo – this time I will use a hammer) Rule 56 - Blood follows the salty dream. Eels in the water say ‘We are the Angels, take six steps’
Date: 2005-04-26 21:49 Subject: The Thin Wall Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Raining Blood - Tori Amos/Slayer This isn't the first time I have woken up, covered in blood. But this time I'm naked, and my penis stings, like that time that I there is a homeless man, crying in front of me. He is feebly trying to climb the wall to get away from me. I am holding a hammer in my white knuckledhands. The blood on the hammer is arterial - thick, crimson gel like. I cough up what looks like a flower of some kind that is stuck in my throat. I spit it into a puddle and look up in the sky. The night visitors have come calling again I think. I am standing behind the supermarket, amongst the black bin liners andI say to the tramp 'That coat is mine, I gave it to Oxfam last month. Could I have it back please?' When I get home there is a note on the bedroom floor waiting for me:- 'There is only a thin wall that seperates you from the world outside that wants you dead dead dead.'
Date: 2005-08-05 18:23 Subject: The Extinction Gun Security: Public Mood: awake Music: 'The Car Song' - Elastica Raymond Skillet is on the run, but like a ringleader at the circus he takes his animals with him. He touched down in Glasgow two weeks ago, roaring his frustration at the latest Tate Modern Atrocity, and how the Curator had hired some specialists to track him down. He didn't say much , other than that were from 'the Art Movement'. Nonetheless, Skillet wanted to celebrate his arrival in the city by hosting a dinner and show at the Brecht Bar in the c ity centre. This would have been allwellandfine, but he brought his obnoxious teenage prostitute and girlfriend - Aniseed with him. Aniseed was spouting something about having become a 'Goth' and a 'Wicca'. She told me she was really good a crystal healing. The closest she ever got to crystal healing was smoking crystal meth, which resulted in her rubbing her own excrement into her eyebrows, and weeping about why mummy would never let her be a nurse when she grew up. We gathered at the table Skillet had reserved, I knew Aniseed and Dexter (I shall talk about him latter) but the woman simply known as 'Chick' was unknown to me. Her hair was midnight blue ? Aniseed had struck up an animated conversation with the waiter who happened to have a mock celtic tattoo on his wrist. She assumed he was a 'Wicca' too, when in fact he was just young, handsome and completely uninterested. When he managed to escape, with his mobile number mercifully unkown Aniseed sat back smug and coy, slinging the occassional victorious glance towards Skillet who leaned over to her and said 'So, did that conversation fill that great fucking gulf of what you're not, Aniseed?' The air seemed to grow thick. Aniseed's first reaction was stunned shock, a trembling lip closely followed and then the snarl appeared. The Aniseed I knew had come a round. Her blind fury echoed out from her gritted teeth, a crunching sound emitted - a metal filling splintered in one of her molars. Skillet and Aniseed were prefect for each other. I turn to Chick and asked why she was carrying wh at looked like an antique flintlock, in a holster strapped to her hip. She told me it was 'An Extinction Gun' and whatever creature she shot would be instantly wiped out as a species and forgotten by the human race. "Can you prove it Chick?" "Have you ever heard of an animal called a Nitro Zebra?" "No." "Well, there you go."
Date: 2005-08-13 00:00 Subject: First Date Security: Public Mood: awake Music: 99 Red Balloons - Nena This is my first date with chick. We decided to get together because we both work for the night visitors, and we play The Ocean Game, and we are just animals beneath, the great black eye. she has been to Briny Heaven ican te ll by the surface of her skin. Chick tells me to come pick her up at her flat in the southside. I stop in at the supermarket. Before I enter I look up at the sky it is slate grey. Everything seems old and modern. The temperature is average. Somewhere, inside The Ocean Game, dice are being roll on red felt. I almost collide with an near elderly couple. They are staggering from drink and have come to get more. The woman carries a large purse they have the scent of genuine matted fur coat. The couple are debating the sufficent funds to purchase more alchohol I can watch and see what they do, even as they approach drinks aisle. The woman opens her over sized purse. The inner contents are what appear to be the innards of a young child. As they rifle through the discoloured offal, they knock loose a small, pudgey finger onto the floor. Rule 345 Take, and you shall receive I edge past them and pick up a bottle of Queen Tangerine, and head for the cashiers. The world has not moved or changed when I step outside, Chick's flat is not far away. Chick is getting ready when I arrive. I am slightly disturbed by the decor in her bedroom. There is a lamp on her ash black desk that is pillarbox and shaped like an old movie camera. Her bed spread is made up of a combination of grey, white and yellow diagonal stripes, she also has matching wallpaper. The carpet is black with coloured flecks. On a battered black tape recorder I hear 99 Red Balloons, almost drowned out by the yell of her enormous hair dryer. She looks at me through the mirror "This reminds me of school homework, back in the eighties" I say "23," she says " you are in the eighties" Some thing moves past the window, outside Dave
Date: 2005-10-16 23:52 Subject: Golden Youth Security: Public Mood: awake Music: Only Girls Play With Dolls - Howard Shore It is raining. It is coming down so heavily that it is bouncing off the numerous bodybags piled ina heap next to my shovel. I received a call at 5.17am this morning from Skillet. He had a favour to ask, it was considerable so in return (Where are 'The Two'?) He said he didn't know, of course, but he would ask them when he thought it was appropriate. I was very serious with him. The time is now about 7.30 and grey sky has only just begun to lighten. A light glaze of sweat has circulated on my back as we finish the large hole. I bend down and pick up a toy from the loosened soil (A small black horse) Blackburn Avenue. We are burying the remains of the night before. (Skillet, Dexter and myself). The first bag splits as Dexter roughly kicks it into the hole, revealing a pretty, young girl. Early twenties, late teens. Gothic make up have been heavily and crudely applied, but it doesn't matter too much, time and earth will improve her best efforts. She is one of the twenty five children raped and killed in the space of one evening. If the police find them , they will call it 'genocide'. The Sallow killed them, but they called it an 'orgy'. As long as there has been such a thing as 'Golden Youth' - The Sallow have been there to prune its finest. They are among the world's wealthiest, and its most depraved. Age does not dampen their spirits The Sallow hope, such debasement will bring Briny Heaven closer to us. It is as good a plan as any I have heard I suppose. I cannot help but notice that many of the sacks are dissembled, their contents unreasonably loose. Where they dead when the Sallow set about them with hacksaws? Was it the Baroness's little game? I look over at the spectators lining the edge of the lay by, tucked away from the deluge in their black vintage cars. Raindrops beating their gentle tattoo like infant fingers on their bonnets. The last car is a Chrysler I have seen bef my spine squirms Perhaps The Sallow's efforts have finally borne fruit after all these years. I hope mine have too. The rain abates as we begin to fling soil down on the broken bodies. I feel nothing, but the desire to know where they are. 23