Proposed cover for anthology ~
Monday 10 February 2014
STORM!
Storm
is on it's way!!! Batten down the hatches!! Stock up on tinned meats!!
Paint a large SOS on all people left outside! Hammer large pieces of
crooked wood across the windows!! Put the cat in the breadbin!! Burn all
the incriminating documents!! Shoot all deserters!! Make litres of
pasta sauce!! Dig holes and put things in them!! Sit around trying to
tune a radio!! Find a rifle in the attic!! Light fires to stay alive!!
Listen to 'Two Tribes' by 'Frankie Goes to Hollywood' on 12 inch for
full instructions! Chinese burn all the squirrels! Smash up furniture to
make a raft!! Ration your cigarettes!! Eat all the biscuits!
Card Fraud
I
have been made the victim of credit card fraud! An attempt to use my
details to top up £10 of O2 credit plus, £4 to a floor covering firm in
the United States. The operator indicated that perhaps, this wasn't
behaviour that was too out of the ordinary, and that I might be
interested in taking advantage of the reduced prices available in North
America,
"To see the U.S is an ambition of mine" I began, "I hardly think I'd jet over to the New World, land of Faulkner and Hawthorne, Meville and Poe, to acquire new tiles for my bathroom"
"There's no need to be sarcastic Mr. Morgan" she replied, "I re-floored my beach hut in Yarmouth from an online discount textiles company in Michigan"
"So what would £4 get me there?" I asked,
"Our records show that the transaction was attempted in the cafe area of the store. It appears that the person tried to buy a burrito"
I paused,
"What kind of burrito?" I asked,
"I'm afraid our system isn't able to determine such detail Mr. Morgan."
"To see the U.S is an ambition of mine" I began, "I hardly think I'd jet over to the New World, land of Faulkner and Hawthorne, Meville and Poe, to acquire new tiles for my bathroom"
"There's no need to be sarcastic Mr. Morgan" she replied, "I re-floored my beach hut in Yarmouth from an online discount textiles company in Michigan"
"So what would £4 get me there?" I asked,
"Our records show that the transaction was attempted in the cafe area of the store. It appears that the person tried to buy a burrito"
I paused,
"What kind of burrito?" I asked,
"I'm afraid our system isn't able to determine such detail Mr. Morgan."
more Millie
Last
night we unwittingly locked Millie in the studio. Her routine of
running around, purting at things and attacking objects has been thrown
out of sync. She is currently investigating the various empty boxes I
left out for her last night, before launching herself full gallop at the
towels hanging over the banister.
Cherry Tree House
Cherry Tree House, should the reader ever happen to look beyond the Church of All Saints, behind the graveyard where it stands, is a hostel for people who, by illness or hardship, have found themselves without home and forced, therefore, to seek its refuge from the streets of Norwich. It is a moderately modern building, with a few rooms that serve the purpose of immediate remedy away from the cold October winds. Immediate only if the various agencies visited, the appropriate referrals procured and the never ending stream of papers signed and counter-signed. A tedious process that often takes many weeks of waiting; waiting in doorways and through hard nights, after the doors of the charities had to close.
It was to this hostel that Matthew Arnold had finally found himself, after many weeks of distress and begging appearances at official buildings filled with interviews to determine his needs. All the while, the cruel night waited, the weather quickly plunging to a more than inclement autumn. He was alone in the world and had nothing, save a backpack of some belongings, clothes and books that had also served as his movable pillow. He clung to it as he waited for his knock to be answered. He had been on the streets for many nights now and was thankful of his numbed memory.
The nights were difficult and had produced in him an instinctive method of survival and the ability to sleep anywhere. He had quickly adapted to rummaging in bins and stooping for cigarette ends, anything in fact that could alleviate his discomfort. Mostly anything.
The prospect of a room, a solid roof and a bed seemed to him like winning a lottery and he was happy, happier than he had ever known in his thirty four years. A light came on in the hallway and Matthew was met by a large smiling man whose thick brown hair swept back from his forehead as a gust of cold wind rushed past him through the open door. The light was warm as was the beaming bearded face of this man,
“Ah, excellent, you must be Mr. Arnold? My name is Tom” and a large hand extended to shake Matthew’s firmly. The grip was strong yet, Matthew noted, the texture of the man’s hand had a weakness to it, like charred paper,
“ I will be your point of contact. I should think you are hungry and tired. After your supper I will take you to your room where you can rest. Tomorrow, tomorrow we will have much to discuss”. He led Matthew into a dining area,where he brought a small bowl of soup and bread. With the sustenance, Tom also brought a large bundle of papers,
“ Just red tape, I’m afraid. I can’t let you have the key to the room unless you fill out these forms, just to prove you exist...” Tom flashed a smile and Matthew glimpsed small teeth that may have been pointed but for the light in the room.
“ Just red tape, I’m afraid. I can’t let you have the key to the room unless you fill out these forms, just to prove you exist...” Tom flashed a smile and Matthew glimpsed small teeth that may have been pointed but for the light in the room.
Led by Tom to a room on the top floor, Matthew took the key and entered,
“ We’ll soon have you re-housed, re- habilitated and re- introduced into society” Tom said and flashed his smile again. When Matthew closed the door to the pallid room, the silence was total. But the bed was as inviting as warm water over cold hands and he crawled into its heavenly sheets before sleeping quickly.
The moon was high and clear. Not an owl stirred and Matthew may have slept the night through. But as is the case of poor old Homo sapiens, especially in circumstances that are new to an old routine, his body woke him, expecting the hard stone of a street and the chill in his bones. His limbs ached from those trying nights and he found it difficult to regain a sleep. He rolled a small cigarette, leaning out of the window. As he perched there, slowly exhaling thin tendrils of smoke in the clear air, he looked across the garden to the tumble of gravestones, mute, cold, empty of feature save the stark crosses against a sky and the hulk of the dead church, beyond.
The very night was as still as if holding a breath.
The only sound was the small crackle of the paper burning under his lips. As he looked, he noticed a shape, a movement between the stones that came into view. It was a figure, in black, moving forward and as he smoked, the lines of his smoke blurred his vision as if the apparition was shrouded in a mist, walking through the stones. He strained his eyes against the dark and became certain it was a figure. Sometimes it walked as if drunk, holding onto the gravestones, other times in seemed to stumble and vanish between them, on all fours, by now crossing over the thicket of the old graves in the hostel garden.
The only sound was the small crackle of the paper burning under his lips. As he looked, he noticed a shape, a movement between the stones that came into view. It was a figure, in black, moving forward and as he smoked, the lines of his smoke blurred his vision as if the apparition was shrouded in a mist, walking through the stones. He strained his eyes against the dark and became certain it was a figure. Sometimes it walked as if drunk, holding onto the gravestones, other times in seemed to stumble and vanish between them, on all fours, by now crossing over the thicket of the old graves in the hostel garden.
“Hello?” Matthew called. The figure stopped and stooped over, heaving as if taking plunges of breath and spoke back, “Hello”. The voice was distant, echoed, a rasping breath of the final throes of a human screaming. It then fell to its knees and crawled in a most unnatural fashion, reaching its thin black arms before it, reached, pulling and coming towards the building, “Hello” it said again in it’d disjointed manner, limbs contorting, “Hello”, moving with a speed of sickening immediacy that caused Matthew to utter a small cry and retreat behind his window. On the wall outside, he heard the form slapping palms and foot soles against the brick, now at the back of the building, trying to gain purchase.
He rushed out of the room, downstairs to the dimly lit office, where Tom had his feet up,
“Outside, a person, a man, needs help! He, came towards me from the church, the graves, he...” Tom replaced his geniality, with that flash of a smile again.
“ Oh come now, there’s nothing to be afraid of, first night in a strange place. “ He led Matthew to the back door and for a moment, Matthew trusted the familiar genial smile as he opened it.
There, the form stood, a shrouded corpse of ripped grey and bone, arms reaching for Matthew,
“Hello” Tom said to the ghoul, reeking of the deepest pits of human confinement, and stood aside to let it in
Girlfriend Quotes
'When you mend something, it enriches the object' ~ Daisy Plackett
Well, you mended me.
Well, you mended me.
Simon Morgan's Acting School
Simon Morgan's Acting School.
Hi everyone.
As an actor of over fifteen years experience, I'm often asked about how to go about this business of show. Well, I've decided to give you budding actors and thesps out there some insider tips on how I, an actor, manage to pull it off.
1. The script.
A script is not just a series of words strung together to make people think you're clever, no, it is the actor's tool. Many people have said that I'm the tool, but I'm not, I'm not a tool, the script is the tool, for honing one's character and bringing the play to life. Read it and try to remember the bits you highlighted.
2. The character.
In a play once, I had to play several characters, so I had to really think about what I was doing for each. We all want to be Indiana Jones sure, but sometimes we have to play Miss Marple. In order to make sure you are doing a different character each time, try having a different wig or a different pair of shoes. Maybe a broadsword or a miner's lamp. And try a different voice too, but be careful you are appropriate, a broad Glaswegian accent is apparrently not at all suitable for Miss Marple.
3. The stage
I think it was Judi Dench who said, 'A stage is like a lover, broad, flat and well lit' ~ maybe not, but it's something she might have said. Get to know your stage, walk around on it before a show, test it for knee sliding potential and make sure that there aren't any nails that might inadvertantly tear your breeches during the last act of Hamlet, infront of a BBC Film crew.
4. Ad Libs
Ad libs or 'Additional Libbing' is quite hard to do correctly, so be forward thinking and write them down on your hand before a show, even using bits of the set to stick them so you don't forget. Trust me, your cast will thank you afterwards.
5. Other cast members
In a play, there are often other actors doing things onstage at the same time as you, so be aware of them and make sure you say your lines to them as much as possible. Also, in the dressing room afterwards, it's a good idea to get changed FULLY before you go up to the bar.
6. An Actor's Life
It's hard being an actor. Remembering lines of a play. Remembering people's names. Remembering all the birthdays.
To be a successful actor in the 21st Century requires a lot of guts, as there are thousands of people who would string you up like a halibut just to get an email saying that they might be lucky enough to one day eat in the same restaurant as a Casting Director. So you have to be better than the average actor on the tube, heading to the same audition as you. I try to keep fit, eat well, drink my own urine. But the best thing to do is learn a skill that gives you an edge. Juggling, lion taming, breathing napalm are all very fun to watch, but they have been done to be fair. We have ALL been to that audition, where the guy juggles a fire breathing lion, only to then see he hasn't got the gig before you; so what can you offer?
I often take selections of cupcakes to auditons as they are bitches to get right, they say baking is a science after all. Getting them light and fluffly requires skill. But try it yourself, and why stop at cupcakes? Try other foodstuffs. I had an acting chum who took some pasties with him once, and that went down quite well, as well as curries, pates and homemade preserves.
So, there is a quick introduction to the word of acting as I have found it. I hope it has proved insightful. Acting is always changing, we are always, as actors, on the game, so don't rest!
Learn those skills, eat up all you can, but most of all enjoy it, because if, like me, you didn't train in anything else, you'll be doing it for the rest of your life.
Hi everyone.
As an actor of over fifteen years experience, I'm often asked about how to go about this business of show. Well, I've decided to give you budding actors and thesps out there some insider tips on how I, an actor, manage to pull it off.
1. The script.
A script is not just a series of words strung together to make people think you're clever, no, it is the actor's tool. Many people have said that I'm the tool, but I'm not, I'm not a tool, the script is the tool, for honing one's character and bringing the play to life. Read it and try to remember the bits you highlighted.
2. The character.
In a play once, I had to play several characters, so I had to really think about what I was doing for each. We all want to be Indiana Jones sure, but sometimes we have to play Miss Marple. In order to make sure you are doing a different character each time, try having a different wig or a different pair of shoes. Maybe a broadsword or a miner's lamp. And try a different voice too, but be careful you are appropriate, a broad Glaswegian accent is apparrently not at all suitable for Miss Marple.
3. The stage
I think it was Judi Dench who said, 'A stage is like a lover, broad, flat and well lit' ~ maybe not, but it's something she might have said. Get to know your stage, walk around on it before a show, test it for knee sliding potential and make sure that there aren't any nails that might inadvertantly tear your breeches during the last act of Hamlet, infront of a BBC Film crew.
4. Ad Libs
Ad libs or 'Additional Libbing' is quite hard to do correctly, so be forward thinking and write them down on your hand before a show, even using bits of the set to stick them so you don't forget. Trust me, your cast will thank you afterwards.
5. Other cast members
In a play, there are often other actors doing things onstage at the same time as you, so be aware of them and make sure you say your lines to them as much as possible. Also, in the dressing room afterwards, it's a good idea to get changed FULLY before you go up to the bar.
6. An Actor's Life
It's hard being an actor. Remembering lines of a play. Remembering people's names. Remembering all the birthdays.
To be a successful actor in the 21st Century requires a lot of guts, as there are thousands of people who would string you up like a halibut just to get an email saying that they might be lucky enough to one day eat in the same restaurant as a Casting Director. So you have to be better than the average actor on the tube, heading to the same audition as you. I try to keep fit, eat well, drink my own urine. But the best thing to do is learn a skill that gives you an edge. Juggling, lion taming, breathing napalm are all very fun to watch, but they have been done to be fair. We have ALL been to that audition, where the guy juggles a fire breathing lion, only to then see he hasn't got the gig before you; so what can you offer?
I often take selections of cupcakes to auditons as they are bitches to get right, they say baking is a science after all. Getting them light and fluffly requires skill. But try it yourself, and why stop at cupcakes? Try other foodstuffs. I had an acting chum who took some pasties with him once, and that went down quite well, as well as curries, pates and homemade preserves.
So, there is a quick introduction to the word of acting as I have found it. I hope it has proved insightful. Acting is always changing, we are always, as actors, on the game, so don't rest!
Learn those skills, eat up all you can, but most of all enjoy it, because if, like me, you didn't train in anything else, you'll be doing it for the rest of your life.
Grey Lung
Greylung,
the hacking, spitting, drinking neighbour and his brood, have 'gotten
rid' of their puppy. According to him, this three month old puppy was a
'terror' that 'ruined the house' and 'their lives' and so was 'sent back
to where we got 'im', like he was a defective toaster.
Could it be your fucking lifestyles you ignorant fools? If you can't handle a puppy in your lives, what about those kids of yours that you are infecting with your smoking at all hours, your drinking in the morning and you in general, you stupid old tosser? Course, I didn't say any of this, I just held his eye and said, "Well, I really must get back inside, I'm not actually wearing any shoes"
Could it be your fucking lifestyles you ignorant fools? If you can't handle a puppy in your lives, what about those kids of yours that you are infecting with your smoking at all hours, your drinking in the morning and you in general, you stupid old tosser? Course, I didn't say any of this, I just held his eye and said, "Well, I really must get back inside, I'm not actually wearing any shoes"
EDF
We
hate EDF energy at Barton House; not only did we just pay a £450 bill to
then get another £80 bill a day later, but they sent a brylcreemed
minion to read our meter, who smelt of pickled onion crisps and didn't
wipe his feet. Needless to say, I wasn't very nice to him,
"We just paid a bill."
"Yes, but it doesn't work like that, I'm just checking that you are paying what you owe us."
"We are switching providers soon, because EDF are too expensive."
(chuckles in that self assured way of a jobsworth) "Yes, good luck with that, who will you be switching to?"
"I don't know, my husband is dealing with it."
(Looks at me in my dressing gown holding a cat) "Your husband."
"My husband."
He left without another word.
"We just paid a bill."
"Yes, but it doesn't work like that, I'm just checking that you are paying what you owe us."
"We are switching providers soon, because EDF are too expensive."
(chuckles in that self assured way of a jobsworth) "Yes, good luck with that, who will you be switching to?"
"I don't know, my husband is dealing with it."
(Looks at me in my dressing gown holding a cat) "Your husband."
"My husband."
He left without another word.
Pet Insurance
Received a phone call from a pet insurance company this morning, Millie's four week trial of medical insurance ended today,
-"Good morning Mr. Morton."
"Hello."
-"I am calling to see if you would like to further insure your pet, ummmm Daisy, for our special introductory price of £98.07 for the year, which will cover worming repeats, accidents and subsequent medical costs up to £15,000."
"I don't think Daisy would appreciate me spending £98.07 for the experience of being de - wormed."
-"Mr. Morton, worms can lead to all sorts of complications in the adult female."
"Daisy thinks worms are a good thing actually, for the compost bin."
Pause.
-"Mr. Morton, could I speak to ummmm Mildred please? I think I could better impart the importance of insurance to your partner."
"Ok, but Millie is currently washing her genitals with her tongue by the fire; I tend to let her get on with it."
Pause.
-"Your partner washes herself by the fire like that?"
"No, Millie is my cat. But you can talk to her if you want, just as soon as she has released her tongue from her bottom."
-"Good morning Mr. Morton."
"Hello."
-"I am calling to see if you would like to further insure your pet, ummmm Daisy, for our special introductory price of £98.07 for the year, which will cover worming repeats, accidents and subsequent medical costs up to £15,000."
"I don't think Daisy would appreciate me spending £98.07 for the experience of being de - wormed."
-"Mr. Morton, worms can lead to all sorts of complications in the adult female."
"Daisy thinks worms are a good thing actually, for the compost bin."
Pause.
-"Mr. Morton, could I speak to ummmm Mildred please? I think I could better impart the importance of insurance to your partner."
"Ok, but Millie is currently washing her genitals with her tongue by the fire; I tend to let her get on with it."
Pause.
-"Your partner washes herself by the fire like that?"
"No, Millie is my cat. But you can talk to her if you want, just as soon as she has released her tongue from her bottom."
15 year old laptop
Trying
to keep up with the modern internet on a fifteen year old laptop that
has a dodgy keyboard has proved frustrating. However, as with all
adversary, I have looked for the potential and most importantly, the
FUN.
FUN is hugely important. There was the time I was trapped under a bookcase after a ceiling collapse, well, I pretended I was a mountaineering librarian, trying to scale the north face of K-2. Or the time I set fire to a flat in Berlin, I just pretended I was terrified and afraid, having beat the flames down whilst naked.
In this case, the keyboard sticks on the space bar, so I often create new words. Like a cyberspace Shakespeare, the dodgy keyboard makes me tackle language anew (see?) ~
Favourite new words are: 'handin' : a task worth doing, 'belate' : to make something arrive early, 'anour' : a couple's love life, 'sinthus' : a really bad cold, "Millmew" : a cat's craving, and my favourite, 'forus' : two people working towards a common goal.
Now I don't mind at all the HEAVY EDITING OF ANYTHING I TYPE, as the text is slowly revealed over five minutes.
FUN.
FUN is hugely important. There was the time I was trapped under a bookcase after a ceiling collapse, well, I pretended I was a mountaineering librarian, trying to scale the north face of K-2. Or the time I set fire to a flat in Berlin, I just pretended I was terrified and afraid, having beat the flames down whilst naked.
In this case, the keyboard sticks on the space bar, so I often create new words. Like a cyberspace Shakespeare, the dodgy keyboard makes me tackle language anew (see?) ~
Favourite new words are: 'handin' : a task worth doing, 'belate' : to make something arrive early, 'anour' : a couple's love life, 'sinthus' : a really bad cold, "Millmew" : a cat's craving, and my favourite, 'forus' : two people working towards a common goal.
Now I don't mind at all the HEAVY EDITING OF ANYTHING I TYPE, as the text is slowly revealed over five minutes.
FUN.
Norfolk Bus Drivers
Dear
bus drivers of Norfolk.
This is the 21st Century. People need punctuality. Just because you smoked glue at school in the 1970s and didn't get any qualifications does not mean that being 36 minutes late is acceptable. Some of us have lives to lead, things to do and friends to meet for coffee. Plus, the tiny five pence coin is legal tender, although I admit there were a lot of them, but I save my change for the bus; it's what people do. Perhaps if your eyes weren't forced into a permanent squint by your fat sweating man jowls, making your bald head look like a huge human thumb, then you would have seen them better.
This is the 21st Century. People need punctuality. Just because you smoked glue at school in the 1970s and didn't get any qualifications does not mean that being 36 minutes late is acceptable. Some of us have lives to lead, things to do and friends to meet for coffee. Plus, the tiny five pence coin is legal tender, although I admit there were a lot of them, but I save my change for the bus; it's what people do. Perhaps if your eyes weren't forced into a permanent squint by your fat sweating man jowls, making your bald head look like a huge human thumb, then you would have seen them better.
Ghost Hunter Log #1
Ghost Hunter Log #1 : 10:07 am.
Went downstairs to examine apparatus laid from previous night. Girlfriend annoyed at talcum powder all over carpet to catch 'ghost foot prints'...no 'ghost foot prints' but lots of kitten paw prints over carpet, onto sofa, up curtains.
Baseline temperature test rendered ineffective by forgetting to turn off heating, timed to come on at 7 am. Girlfriend again annoyed that I then switched off heating at mains as she has to find instructions to re-programme it. Interestingly, kitten prints found ontop of boiler.
Girlfriend annoyed that I tied string to all the furniture in order to measure any kinetic movement and distance of movement, as she tripped over trying to clean talc off curtains.
Audio recording records an hour and a half of a kitten purring then suddenly stops; the dictaphone was found knocked off the mantelpiece. A possible lead?
Video recording rendered ineffective as kitten spends an hour playing with a letter for girlfriend infront of lens of camera. Camera then records kitten knocking dictaphone off mantelpiece with paw to then fall asleep infront of camera lens, bottom first.
Apparatus set up to record possible 'automatic writing', that of a piece of chalk set vertically in a wheeled caddy on top of a rectangle of black board, rendered useless by kitten paw prints all over blackboard.
Girlfriend annoyed by tooth and claw marks in a letter sent by her bank as it contained a cheque from Santander.
Girlfriend annoyed that all windows were taped shut in order to secure draughts from spoiling temperature and talc tests; girlfriend points out that it 'is not the 1930s', 'we do not live in Borley Rectory' and that we 'have double glazing'.
Girlfriend throws out my 'ghost hunter' cravat and pipe in exasperation, after kitten paw prints are found all over the desk in her studio. I manage to hide my 'ghost hunter' bullwhip.
End of ghost hunter log.
Went downstairs to examine apparatus laid from previous night. Girlfriend annoyed at talcum powder all over carpet to catch 'ghost foot prints'...no 'ghost foot prints' but lots of kitten paw prints over carpet, onto sofa, up curtains.
Baseline temperature test rendered ineffective by forgetting to turn off heating, timed to come on at 7 am. Girlfriend again annoyed that I then switched off heating at mains as she has to find instructions to re-programme it. Interestingly, kitten prints found ontop of boiler.
Girlfriend annoyed that I tied string to all the furniture in order to measure any kinetic movement and distance of movement, as she tripped over trying to clean talc off curtains.
Audio recording records an hour and a half of a kitten purring then suddenly stops; the dictaphone was found knocked off the mantelpiece. A possible lead?
Video recording rendered ineffective as kitten spends an hour playing with a letter for girlfriend infront of lens of camera. Camera then records kitten knocking dictaphone off mantelpiece with paw to then fall asleep infront of camera lens, bottom first.
Apparatus set up to record possible 'automatic writing', that of a piece of chalk set vertically in a wheeled caddy on top of a rectangle of black board, rendered useless by kitten paw prints all over blackboard.
Girlfriend annoyed by tooth and claw marks in a letter sent by her bank as it contained a cheque from Santander.
Girlfriend annoyed that all windows were taped shut in order to secure draughts from spoiling temperature and talc tests; girlfriend points out that it 'is not the 1930s', 'we do not live in Borley Rectory' and that we 'have double glazing'.
Girlfriend throws out my 'ghost hunter' cravat and pipe in exasperation, after kitten paw prints are found all over the desk in her studio. I manage to hide my 'ghost hunter' bullwhip.
End of ghost hunter log.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)