How’s your reading? Does it give you headaches? Perhaps you need glasses. Do your lips move? Doesn’t matter, because I need a couple of people who can match the noises coming out of their mouths with the corresponding symbols on the pages of a book, just like back when books were thrilling accounts of all manner of adventures which people in coloured hats were having. Continue reading “50/50 share in proceeds for Northern lass and Southern lad able to match mouth noises to written symbols”
While desperately searching various drives for my old short stories but finding only corrupted files I came across an old project report, (Back in 2009, Vilmantė, Sölvi, Dina and I produced a heartwarming wee Choose Your Own Adventure style Flash game about villains of the week, those dastardly Lithuanians, and that’s why there’s no such thing as racism anymore.)
It made me smile to remember a time when the knee-jerk armchair generals and vicious bigots of this country were all up in arms about ‘swarms’ from the east rather than the south-east.
The rhetoric may be saccharine and naive but I thought I’d share the report regardless. I’ve stripped most if not all of the business/marketing guff since I didn’t write it anyway; besides, no one visits this blog flushed with expectation for Target Group Analysis and User Scenarios, right?
If nothing else, it shows that you can get away with using colourful language like the S, F and N-words whilst trying to make some sort of sense of this shitty fucking world full of C-words. Continue reading “Lithuanians and other bogeymen (2009)”
UPDATE: Dave smashed through the ceiling, raising 112.84 % of the 35,000kr target; that’s a total of 39,495kr he has to get his first book out there. Continue reading “S(h)ave Dave. A (homeless) book project”
I’ve freshened up an old cadaver with a touch of lipstick on its withered lips and trundled the dusty horror out to dance for you:
If Coca Cola gave us Santa, then it could be argued that Pepsi gave us Barrack Obama. Continue reading “The Web in 2010; with Obama, Pepsi and some bananas”
UPDATE: Tricorn: Controversy in Concrete – incorporating records, inspirations and materials – is running at Portsmouth City Museum between 15th March and 29th June 2014. Even though I bet they’ll have free wine at the opening, I can’t get down there for it, but these pictures and more will be.
It’s been more than eight years now since Portsmouth tore down the Tricorn Centre: that Brutalist monstrosity despised by many but to me as much a part of the city’s dark soul as the Historic Dockyard; pebbled seafront with its promenade, piers and castle; and getting punched in the face outside a nightclub for making eye contact.
I took these few meagre, poorly descriptive images back in 1996 but by then the thirty year old concrete was mouldy and crumbling, held together by rust, rats and Laser Quest. Continue reading “A Belated Eulogy for the Tricorn Centre, Portsmouth”
Middlesbrough’s Teesside University has a student body of nearly 30,000. Of that number, more than 1,500 are international students. The ones we tended to notice are female but there is hushed talk of males.
Back in the day – when I still regarded Journalism as attainable a vocation as Astronaut or Ghostbuster – I met a beautiful girl who, rather than take me to bed, distracted me by introducing me to her father. He was the editor of the soon to be defunct second local paper of a small Danish island and was keen to get the low-down on what the foreigners really thought of the place.
He asked me to write a piece for the final edition but back on the mainland my flat was burgled; I lost the draft and missed the deadline. A month or so later the Police arrested a junkie who still had my laptop – he couldn’t get past the BIOS password so hadn’t been able to sell it. The HD was undamaged but my mojo was, so here, for posterities sake if anything, is the untouched snap-shot I was working on:
Old Norse poetry spoke of Samsø. Your island was said to hold the long awaited bay of love or longing where one could find shelter and tranquility.
Back home, people are always asking me: ‘Why do you keep going back to Denmark?’ Continue reading “Vikings, Lego and Bacon (2005)”
David Rickerby has spent the last seven months sleeping on a park bench in Denmark. For money he collects cans and bottles from the street.
They say it was the coldest winter in 19 years.
Saturday April 22, 2006
“I’m doing this because it’s the best option for me right now, there’s nothing else, there’s no other choice, the only other choice, what’s that? Going back to England?” David makes a disgusted expression, “Not in this lifetime.”
I’ve joined him on his rounds, an eight kilometre meander around the centre of Aarhus, the second largest city in Denmark.
He is English, forty years old, somewhat short-tempered and weary but not as unkempt in appearance as you might imagine yourself becoming in such circumstances. Continue reading “Five Minutes Before the Miracle”