The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

hurry cane
psy-clones
storm und drain
winds lash north bondi
rain comes down in ye olde buckettes
the fambley wander the deserted beach in the afternoon
a guy runs past
theres whales out there
he yells in the mist of the rain and his exertion
we look out to sea
sure enough some huge beautiful beast launches itself up n out
the doodles n nk cheer
i feel a deep warmth
yes!
yes this is a lovely place our earth
oh thank you vishnu for the whales
thank you for this immense black thing that just leapt
from the roiling rolling grey sea
on this cold bleak day
i find myself warm inside with a contented easiness
muse: or was that pam n perrys victorian organic heads?
no no muse
and then a mother of one of the doodles friends
who i know to be hungarian
comes along
“are there whales out there?” she says
yep n when you see em you’ll say “kusunum se pen”
ha ha ha she says
its my one little tiny bit of hungarian
which rubbed off on me
thank you
the guys in the wonderful heaven street seven
taught it to me
it took fucking ages to even begin to pronounce it
so they didnt all wince and giggle
anyway
i was glad that yon hungarian woman could understand it…
yeah the weathers been wilde here my little piglets
sweet oblivious disciples
vicious detractors
sneering enemies
ambivalent bystanders
detached well wishers
curious blow-ins
long term devotees
nobles of the realm
tender virgins
rambunctious olde fiendss
teutonic wunderkinds
blind angels
lovely sexy vegans
ugly olde killers
whatever your category…
some of you may straddle categories
izzy..or what?
some of you may be interested to know
that despite 15 degree water
huge waves and mucho marine detritus
i still plunged into the baby pool
this smorning
the big pool was a’closed due to monstrous swell
(ooohh mr humphries…!?)
so the lonely shivery killer did his good lapps in the babby poole
another guy hopped in for a moment
waved at me
felt the temperature
and the murky viscosity of the water
and smartly pissed off
i stay in and do the equivalent of ten lapps in bigge poole
the pool smells like a freaking fish market
i do not abide fishy smells very well
i spontaneously vomited one day
when in my callow youth
i accidentally stuck a prawn cracker in my gob
as soon as my mouth closed around the foul thing
my body convulsed in a bout of retching
thus is the horror i hold for crustacean life (eating i mean)
oh god there are dead n live crabs in the pool all the time
people
how do you fucking eat stuff like that?
any way i jump in ye olde sauna
and im amazed by the way my veins start popping out
all over my legs n ankles
as i start to warm up
some divinely brilliant n silent mechanism
makes our veins come out when its too warm in the flesh
and go in when it gets too cold
a little like a mans testicles i guess
all these clever little processes happening
ah life!
i hadda dream the othernight
and in it i was i was in this beautiful garden
(oh fiendss i love a nice garden!!)
and the sky was azure blue
the flowers blazed yellowgold
flame red
violetpurple
and there were small birdies fiendss
and butterflies with white and black wings
and i thought
oh i love life
lovelife
lovelife
yes
and then
and then the weight of my 52 years fell down heavy
and i realised
really realised in reality
how little time i really have left
and how much i didnt want to be olde and at the end
i wanted to be burning in the fire of eternal perpetual youth
the luxury of time
the future stretching out before me full of promise
instead of this past hanging off me like a shadow
bitter regrets
all the stupid things i said
no one has said more stupid things than me
BELIEVE IT OR NOT!
in that tone of voice i hate hearing myself talk in
the way i used to be mosta the time
and now only summa the time
i hate(d) the olde me
is it possible
for a mangey panther to change his(quick smoke at) spots?
(when is a box not a box?)
you know how georgie w(anker) bush
you know that fun lovin’ environment crusading
peacenik and genius prezzi-dent
well remember that he was a coke snortin'(and dealing?)drunk driving
draft dodging tax evading ratbag who only stayed outta trubble
cos of nepotistic bigge daddie bushie
anyhow he one day just goes
oh im reborn!
i aint responsible for my boozy druggy wild debauched(sigh) days
im reborn now
that means i get to wipe the slate clean
and its not kosher to ask me about that stuff anymore
(and unbelievably the fucknuckle press swallow this ploy)
well anyway
you asking
yeah yeah whatsthis gotta do with thee ttb
well im like georgie
except it really happened to me
and hes just fuckin’ acting
if hes a christian then i’ll be blowed
(mr humphries…….???!!!)
and im the real deal
except istill talk about the olde days
we both got twins and cute american wives….??!!
and we both changed
except of course that he didnt
and hes the most powerful gink in the world
and im a broken powerless nobody with a 2 bit blogge
but him in the imaginary rebirth into the spirit (like hell)
me in the crucible of addiction then swimming/yoga/blah blah blah)
muse : jesus, what a cliche ….
yes its a cliche but cliches are cliches for a reason
oh god! grants dark side of town comes on my ipod
with karin singing backing vox
grant put this on his best-of solo records just out
its a real sad song
i cant believe its just come on my shuffle
karins vox are so poignant
what a sad little song…
pretty and fragile
grant will you give someone else a tern on my ipodd?
where wazzi?
gee
that takes a bitta recovering from…
oh yeah
so you see….
ah
ive forgotten

ps welcome back pretty little kitty kat

working on the martin kennedy record
3 new tracks he sends up
i hear the 1 st track
i say to jlk
thats it
5 minutes later
i have words n melody
about lions laying down with lambs
when we realise the connection
when all opposites are reconciled
all in a catchy melody with rhymin’ words
and everythin’…

scarlet kilbey
aka the bumper
aka the woofle
sits on my lapp
helping me drink my soy n rice milk smoothie
w/ banana n dates n flaxseed oil
dad dad dad she goes when she wants some
bye bye she says when the smoothie is gone

im painting like a demon
just making up for lost time
i guess
all those years i didnt paint
like rousseau who became a painter
when he was even older than me
he single handedly (well almost)
founded the naive school
also called the sunday painters
i think ive detoured from naive now
im something else
post naive
neo naive
impressionistic futurist naive
hmmm
i might do a cardboard box for bonzo
oh no
its recycling day
and the garbos took my masterpiece away
maybe you can still find it on the back o’ the truck
its a rococco box with imagist binklebonks
its mans basic inhumanity to man
in a cardboard sculpture
it expresses the ineffable bifflehonk of my grondleworth

the rain drizzles on n on
aurora left the back window of the falcon open
and the car has a nasty damp smell
the sun ventures out for a few minutes
and then pisses off back behind the clouds
everything is soggy and waterlogged
the sandy loamy soil
the weeds n plants
the papers on the ground
the ants dash to n fro

could be expecting a kev carmody concerto at oprah house
early nexta yeer
snap back jack
these images of london
these illusions
oh im looking forward to that
and the queensland po fest
wherein i will do 2 lenny cohen songs
suzanne is one…
no thats a song for me to do
cant decide on the other one tho
everybody knows maybe…..
i dunno
any suggestions fiendss
im also gonna be reading the whole of froot machine
in one crazy burst
and talking about songwriting…
im a bittav anexxpert they say
but the problem remains
that i cant communicate it so well
and besides
if you were really had the knack
you wouldnt need to listen to some other olde tossa
like moi
pontificating on n on
youd just bloody well do it
or what?
nonetheless i will try to impart the meagre knowledge i have
as hard as it maybe
because it aint a technique
its a religion
its a vocation
im still thinking about songwriting
im still analyzing n deconstructing songs in my head
im still in love with music
and i still think the composer is numero uno
lyrics
music
melody
put em together whatta ya got…?
magic…..
or
rubbish
or something in between
rubbic?
magish?
why do i love hearin one guy going on
how is little baby left im
and im singing along and involved
another guy does the same
and i run screaming away in embarrassment
just cos of some strange way he pronounces his words
or the reverb on his voice
its all communicating something
only my deep mind can unravel and interpret
just got intermission
by grant n robert
their pick of their own solo work
a dubble cd
boy those guys hadda individual take on writing
forster a weird mix of awkward glamourous and facetious
grantley…warm romantic honest and yes, naive
put em together and who woulda thought it coulda worked so well
i liked lindys drumming actually
tho she aint to be heard here
and amanda brown n i wrote a song a cuppla years back
i see shes registered it now
and i hope it gets used in a movie
cos it was very nice
i guess thats enough for today
and i hope the worlds treating you well
hope all the sickies get better
all the lonely ones find someone
all the ones who wanna get out can get out
and all those who have stuck by me
and believed in me are not disappointed
hey melquiades
if you write blah blah blah
again
im gonna find you on a beach in delaware
and give you a good hiding!
dude you look like you been eating beast on a skewer!
yuck!!!
ttb

and all round handsome brute
torn apart by his own commenters
driven crazy by the taste of his sweet pure blood
no no
some cried
save him save him
and they seized the right half of him and pulled
others cried wicked
heretic
fool
blasphemer
dreamer
and they seized the left and tugged
and still others
inquisitors and torturers
asked tricksy questions
tricksy my preciousses
or they put their words in his mouth
and then beat him for it
spat upon and insulted
for having said
please be kind to all the beasts…
and they pulled and tore him asunder
he who had loved them so much
he who had shared unflinchingly
he who had over n over stated his misgivings about himself
he who was frank and forthright
he with the iq of a genius and the calves of a dancer
he with the gold records and mercurial teeth
he with the encyclopaedic knowledge of rocknroll
he with 2 sets of twins
he who has no country
he who is 1st son of 1st son
he who had been there and done that
but was thoughtful observant and eloquent enough
to come back and tell you about it in poetic terms no less
go ahead
wags nibble on his carcass now
detractors desecrate his memory with obscene slogans
his followers have declared him a public holiday
and many of them now dress in scruffy clothes to honour him
and smoke the sacred erb
tucking into nut cutlets
wearing wispy hair wigs
and false white beards
they call him the saint who was no saint
the prophet without profit
white hippy moses
the mangey panther
the fool
the time being
the charlatan
the killer of children and women
the olde fella
the ladies man
the uneven one
slim boy grunt
steve fairchild
steve underwood
steve bennett
steve a’door
the one who was pretty
hippy dribble
the voice of the voiceless
the merciful one
deaf as a post
mr resilience
the clown
man of sorrows
freckleface
mr kilbey
the one who could go either way
ahhh
so many names
so many games
so misunderstood
so sad
such a shame
some said stop
some said go
some said hi
some said lo
and behold me tight!
some said oh i love you time being
please take your time
strip these hours from me
remove these minutes as if they were my garment
paint me a picture of living life
some said i am leaving
i am leaving
but the fighter still remained
watching me watching me
waiting to hurt
hurt
hurt
hasnt this earth gotta nuff hurt already
enuff sadness n sorrow
no no no
in coming slings and arrows
outrageous fucking fortune
ducking and weaving
dodging them brickbats
oh theyre cutting me to the quick n the dead
so many words
so many bad vibes
poor be-wildered olde killer
he stands up confused
who turned out the lights? he asks
in the darkness of his tribulation
some of his apostles say
close it down sweet man
we cannot bear to see thee slandered and abused thus
others say
we have come with thee thus far
but now alas our parts must path
others say wherever you lead dear master
there we will follow
for your sake
but for my sake
is for your sake
and the ones who cant see wont believe
and then the pharisees said
how dare you tell us not to eat the beasts
we have always eaten them
we are given dominion over them (it says)
and we’ll do whatever the fuck we like
besides what about in tibet?
or mongolia?
and the holocaust?
and abortion?
and the disabled?
and the old?
the homeless?
and sickness?
and poverty?
and dole cheats?
and the broken pavement on hall street
and the lions?
and the a-theists?
and heroin?
and going to jail?
and whatta bout the past?
and whatta bout me?
and whatta bout you?
what about what you did?
yes you you you!
dont worry about keith richards n loo read
what about you?
who me?
yeah you!
oh i lied n cheated n ignored n fucked up
oh i been so wrong about so many things
so many many so many many
sins i grant you
i sinned i sind i rescind
sinned to cinder
sainthoodlum
but one thing im sure of…
no no no say pharisees
you arent sure of anything
no right to be sure
but i feel this
no no no
you dont feel you fool
dont feel
your foolish feelings
but are we humans?
is this humanity?
is this love in action?
is this the way whoever would have wanted it?
can you dig life?
life….not ours to take away…not like that
not to breed beasts in fear factory
hunt them yes if youre a hunter
how many hunters here? asked the being
but hardly any raised their hands…
but the fish…
but mongolia…
but the iron…
but the advertisements with sam neill…
look!
the being swung around angrily and he declared
DO WHATEVER YOU CAN!

eat what you like fiendss
ive led the donkeys to water
but i cant make em drink
the things i first said in 1972
when i became vegetarian
are coming true
people are now seriously considering animal rights
in 1972 people laughed scorned and ridiculed me
for such ideas
i realise
as i realised then
with any great upheaval in the human race
when we move on
and leave our ignorance behind
and move forward
towards a goal of peace prosperity and progress
we will have to leave behind things like
slavery
female circumcision
war
rape
guns
and
slaughter of beasts
deeds that are perpetrated on weak or silent creatures
deeds that generate blood and shame and horror
i have found meat eaters grasping at the most ridiculous rationales
to justify what they know in that part of them
where god lives
in there
they know the real horror of what they consume
or are as yet
so thick
so unthawed by love and life
to remain impervious to the true horror of meat
and the way it boomerangs back on us
the killers become the killed
the pro meat comments here
are hardly worth my time demolishing
the proofs in the pudding baby
im fifty 2 and i can outrun outswim out play
out party and out anything else
most of ya who eat meat
whatever yer age
i churn out art n music
decent art n music
i raise my kids to be veg n theyre strapping n smart
their features are fine and beautiful
and their hearts are not weighed down with meat
i drive vans n cars for a thousand miles
i still jump out and rock n scream for 2 hours
i go to bed at 3
i jump out at 7 and do yoga for an hour
i say what the fucks happening
and i start all over again
my hair although its getting wispy
has hardly any grey
i never get sick
i defeated heroin baby n lived to tell the tale
and please baybee
dont tell me cos i was a junkie
that i aint got no right to preach anti meat
i laugh at your feeble protestations for meateating
your guilt pushes you to absurd limits
again
i invite all unrepentent meat eaters to depart
dont clogg up my comments with your silliness
im a veg till the day i die
and please
oh the homeless…..
what have the homeless got to do with vegetarianism again?
always meat eaters who come up with the “thickest” things
and thats no wonder really
so why write it?
you aint never gone a change me
i would no more eat meat than eat dirt
actually i know what i prefer
ive heard it all before
this is my blogge
i dont wanna hear about microscopic organisms in the air
or carrots screaming
or the homeless
or ants you trod on
or my ex junkydom
or the lions n cheetahs
or the farmers
or how tired you felt
when you stopped with the pork for a week
adolf hitla
how chicken is alright
how you need the iron
baby i heard it all
a hundred years ago
if you wanna eat meat go ahead
please dont sully my pages with your nonsense
any of ya
with whatever connection you think you have to me
respect this
no i do not respect your right to eat meat
and i dont wanna hear about it
it depresses me
it fatigues me
it brings me down
i am connected to all life
and the slaughter is horrifying me
i cant understand what kind of unfeeling person
can go on with it as it is
and i sure dont want them airing their views here
no more do i want people advocating war n rape n pillage
thats it
you never gonna cower me
i dont respond to come on killer chill out
tell us about fucking heyday
no more meat killer
please
youre boring us….
sorry pal
its gotta be perfectly clear
if you eating meat
you never really gonna be my friend

killer /prospero wakes early
its saturday morning
the storm has returned in spades
the females all sleep on
miranda at a rock festival in sweden
elli in the country house in sweden
eve n aurora cuddle up in their darkened room here
aurora loves rabbits squirrels n chipmunks
an olde friend suzanne comes over for dinner
out of the blue
i say to suzanne
what kind of animal do you think aurora is
without missing a beat
she laughs and says oh a bunny!
the whole family has a good laugh
even scarlet who doesnt know exactly why
but she enjoys a giggle so what the hell…
i suggest we recreate the mad hatters tea party scene
evie as the hatter…shes as nutty as a fruitcake
plus the hat would look good on her curls
aurora is a shoe-in for the march hare
if we can get her long pigtails to stand up straight
her front teeth are big n white
and she has the slightly reticent manner of a rabbit
her skin is impossibly tawny and her hair is blonde
a palomino rabbit
scarlet is definitely the dor-mouse
didja know lewis carroll saw a wombat
at his friends house who was a oxford zoologist
to him it looked like a giant sleeping mouse
and they are nocturnal beasts so it woulda been sleeping
the days carroll dropped by
anyway scarlet could be that sleepy silly dormouse easy
nk would be alice of course……
(hmmm…actually how appropriate)
of course im that olde caterpillar with that hookah-pipe
stoned n supercilious
hopefully turning into a fuckin’ butterfly soon
like in that episode of doctor who
where these people start to get these mutations
the others cast em out
but theyre turning into the next stage of life
becoming something new n marvellous
but the ones who havent changed yet
well, they villify those in transition
and it reminds of me
of something some “wag” on the comments section wrote yessaday
if we all gave up meat the world would somehow miraculously change
mister, i believe it would…
so there you go
even “wags” come up with the occaisional profound thing
not that ive any thing against “wags”
but he was saying it facetiously
while it is actually the troof
last nite watched fast food nation
an american film
i tell ya if ya still fancy a hamburger
slip this on at dinnertime
itll go down a treat
as yer burgers coming back up
dont ya love a little faecal content in yer mince meat?
lovely scenes in the slaughterhouse
oh thats humanity at its finest
up to its knees in some poor beasts blood n shit
the end result being some disgusting “pattie”
full of …..what?
full of what?
everything , my little pigs
full of everything
everything you can imagine
and some poor bloated ignorant sucker
shovels it down his or hers gullet
and it makes em so sick in their belly
in their soul
in their heart
you just cannot believe it
and we will be judged most harshly by future generations
im not getting off this soapbox
so ridicule me if ya want
but the jokes really on the carni-vores
except that the joke aint funny….
anyway
the storm is raging n roaring outside
the kids all have gotten up
which makes it harder to concentrate
so im gonna disappear here
into this angry violent storm
which is lashing this town
and all its people

rant over and out!
you wanted a bit of bile
come on tell the truth
its funny when i get angry
just like it was funny when my dad les kilbey got angry
but it wasnt funny when my mum got angry
unless it was really really funny
and you could get her to laugh too
then she’d get even angrier cos she’d laugh
when she wanted to be angry
we are a mixture of our mothers n fathers
and all their mothers n fathers
we must all be somehow related
and in another lifetime
i may have been your sister or your son
if you are attracted to me now
you may have known me in another lifetime
says krishna…
i know i never quite get it right, do i?
but you trust that im trying
you can feel it, right?
and if i keep trying
then one day…..
ah that perfect song
that perfect poem
and
youll go
i been listening to this guy now for a hundred lifetimes
and this is my new favourite song….
really my life is to chase this ideal
and as long as i have breath
its what im gonna do
its an easy life in some ways
i have mostly eliminated “the man” from the equation
all day long im at work
its lovely lovely work
but it still makes me anxious n despondent
i do thank the lord everyday
that i am not at a factory
or behind a desk in fluoro wilderness
and oh my fiendss
if i could make it so
that none of you had to either
i would
funny enough
tiny dancer by elton came on my ipod
now i dont like elton
but my friend marcus s in sunny stockholm
said i should have this one elton album
madman across the water
anyway i do like tiny dancer
its specialness overcomes n defeats my prejudice
and hearing this song takes me back to ‘aving a real job
after i left school
working as a tilers labourer
a blocka flats somewhere in canberra
i was taking all the old tiles outta the hallway
and they were not coming up easily
i was on my own and it was cold and a bit dark
driving to this place each day i heard 2 songs
on the radio
tiny dancer and heart of gold
and i would think about them all day
as i chiselled n scraped at the floor
in the hallway
and even then
believe me
i hated work
if they had had ipods in those days
or even walkmans…
or if i was stoned
see if ya put me in a corridor with my ipod n a spliff
i will chip out those olde tiles much more happily
than if im just straight n musicless
but in the void of nothing
i just played songs over n over in my head
and of course i didnt really realise it then
but i was deconstructing n analysing them
why did they make me feel this way
how did neil convey that lonesomeness?
why did i feel like i could fall in love with eltys tiny dancer?
the sounds, the strings, the voices
oh i was so deeply in love with music
who isnt?
who doesnt love music?
anyway
when i heard tiny dancer today
walking up my street from the pool
my head full of economic gloom
my head full of the sand patterns at the bottom of the pool
endorphins filling my system
from the coldwater n the hot sauna
and the rain that fell on me as i did chi gong
at the edge of the churning pacific ocean
and the gratitude i have that i dont have to work
at a “real” job
and with five children of my own
all girls
and my thick white beard getting long again
and the spring in my step
and the late autumn of my life
a brief burst of sunshine maybe
and all the time the muse is chucking out ideas
and im looking at things
and thinking of words
thinking about my solo album
thinking about the weird stuff my shuffle was throwing at me
civil war lament comes on
fuck grant you little bastard i still wish you hadnt gone
the pod was throwing in your bright ray at me lassa nite
and theres my mate timbo walloping the kit
so it all goes full circle
doesnt it?
i have been priveleged to work with some great people
and i think about em all the time
caino in the us
glenny bennie in melb
martin kennedy in melb
cummo in melb
polinski n the mim boys
also of …melb
(i should move there actually
its more my kinda town…intellectually
oh but im so hooked on the icebergs
im getting the equivalent of 5 grams of painkiller
in endorphins from the pool n sauna every day
i go in there a hungover stumbling wreck
i emerge a neuman
go bes just came on my ipod as we speak
even as we speak grantley
anyway im studying the pointillistic rub of the leaves
and im thinking of how can you paint that?
and im thinking about the cars that zoom past
i see the drivers
my mind automatically comes up with a possible biography
unasked for
and forgets just as quickly
a man drives past in a black wet beemer
i picture a warm living room
discreet lighting
executive position
distant wife
cleaners come in thursdays n mondays
ocean n harbour views
books lie open on the coffee table, expensive and beautiful
images of famine in africa
and the grand prix
all in glossy thick deluxe pages
slightly intensified
a pool throws rippling aqua blue light on the ceiling
then his car is gone
another splashes past
behind a foggy window
a mother n some kids
i see a cosy kitchen looking out on a lovely back lawn
trees hem in the garden giving a sunny privacy
i see nights sitting in the garden when its too hot to sleep
early morning soccer practice and
mother in law dropping in unannounced
all the time
anyway
tiny dancer comes on and shatters my reverie
im back in that hallway
chipping away at those bastard tiles
im 18 or whatever i was
i see it all
somewhere in the backa my mind
just waiting to be unlocked
this memory
clear as crystal
good on ya elton!

ok
wear yer makeup then anonymouses who shall remain nameless
you know i aint talking about a bitta eyeliner
i wore as a performer
or the pancake i wore as shylock in the merchant of venus
and while im here
to the idiot who criticised me
for not taking care of the dog in the storm
the dog was already surrounded by the driver and its owners
sorry i didnt spell it out for ya
i thought you may have presumed that i would have helped
the dog if there hadnt been anyone there
its a given….or what
makeup schmakeup
pile it on you silly bints
im just talking about the gloop that covers yer whole face
and cracks into yer wrinkles n pores
and makes you look like a fright
go ahead
its a done deal
sometimes i feel like these little gremlins poring thru this blogge
looking for any un pc deviation or some thing to contradicto
or coming on like theyre some olde gurlfrend of mine
(i never met ya!)
or some olde wise “inside” person who wryly sadly
points out the ‘orrible truth about your saintly being
like he was there when ploogy got sacked
or whatever
jesus get real
this is the diary of a space rocker
oh yeah
some other goose
says i dont like makeup
cos im olde
and it would make me look like a sad old clown
but this is what i secretely want AND need
madame
have you been fucking following this at all
do you reckon some olde bloke like me
with a big white beard
dressed in shorts n boots
is jealous of “the young”
cos i wanta a bright colourful face?
lady
my red nose
my grey eyes
my brown freckles
my golden tan
my black white brown n blonde beardy
does it sound like i need more colour in my face
do you really think im longing for my pretty youth
maybe you are
but i aint
i dont care if you believe it or not
lady i live in the everflowing present
i got more balls now than that prick who was me ever dreamed of
you think im gonna sacrifice that for a pretty face and big hair
no no
thats you
superficial ones
dont project yer silly wishes on me
dont attribute yer longing for someone elses glory daze on me
and i know my regular readers enjoy a good rant
so im just blowing off some steam for their amusement
at my deep still centre i am unruffled
you better believe it
and anyway
why are you looking for truth n wisdom on a internet diary
of a self confessed washed up drug addled crazy olde rocker
sometimes i wonder how it woulda been if the great writers
of the past had had blogs and commenters

jrr tolkiens blog
morgoth was defeated
and cast into a deep pit
his servant sauron was captured
and the elves held him fast
but he pretended to be rehabilitated
and they were deceived and gave him freedom
he made rings which he gave to man elf and dwarf
but he made a master ring
which he saved for himself
and his power over them grew
he was lord of the rings
see ya tomorrow
love
jrr

comments
anonymous said
morgoth was innocent
is this racism against a balrog?
tolkien=hitler!

anonymous said
thats it
im never reading this blog again
look im leaving
look im gone
just checking….
one last time then….

anonymous said
hey jrr
remember me
im that girl who was with c.s. that night in oxford
yeah you should remember….you lil devil!
from oooh that would be telling

anonymous said
ive seen tolkien in action
a friend of mine
a publisher got burnt by him bad
he aint no gentleman jim
dont be fooled
hes a bastard

anonymous said
hey jrr
tell us more about those cute little hobbits
they make me n my wife laugh….

nick fantasy-fiction said
hey tolkers
why dontcha jus chill?

anonymous said
tolkien
i know where you live!
a.n orc

anonymous said
bullshit!

anonymous said
i used to like your books
but this is too much
i thought you were smarter than this
but i guess i was wrong
from disappointed

anonymous said
“in mordor where the shadows lie”
whos in shadow now, jrr?
from guess who

etc etc etc
do you get the picture
look i know 95 per cent of my comments are positive
and everytime someone says something really nice
and heartfelt
i cringe cos i know some smarmy little worm is out there
getting ready to sneer
cos they cant tell the difference between affection and affectation
they cant see that you appreciate me and what i do
and how much i appreciate some kind words
i dont live for it
but verily
i do appreciate an intelligent informed bit of praise
fandorin for example
who i have met
in prague of all intellectual pretentious places
and he could tell you why he liked your record
in such an eloquent thoughtful way
that it made me wanna run
to whatever he was talking/writing about
and chuck it on the headphones
and say
“oh i wanna hear all that marvellous stuff hes hearing”
with other people a simple i love this will suffice
however you wanna say it
if you wanna say it
what kind of idiot would i be
if i had amassed this huge (in rock terms) body of work
and wasnt happy if folks liked it
i like it when the ladies still think im ok
i like it when the younger guys say you aint too badde f’ran olde guy
i like it when people like me
aint that natural
so i resent it when someone gets called a sicko phant
just because they liked something i did
sometimes i think what do they want from me
i churn out something here everyday
you dont have to pay
(but if you wanna..i had bad economic news)
and please if you wanna imply something
why dontcha put yer name?
you know mine….
who the fuck are you?

fiendss
im being very naughty
a naughty being
im s’posed to be doing my accounting
i gotta meeting w/ my accountant at 3
its about 20 to 12 now
why fucking hurry it?
theres always the tim(e) bandit method
lets say you got 2 weeks to do something
ah you can take it easy that 1st week
as the second week begins
ah
have today off
you still got 6 days
on the fifth day you think
tomorrow im really gonna start
on the 4th day you go
no tomorrow im really gonna start
after all, times tight now
on the 3rd day you think
why worry
its a 2 day job if i work really hard
on the 2nd day you think
if i leave it until tomorrow
i will have no option but to complete it
in a glorious 1 day burst
on the last day you look at it
and say christ!
i couldnt get it all done today
so why even start
you ask for another 2 week extension
and the process is ready to begin all over again
baybee thats called a rationale
its a device to follow wherever yer peccodillos leading ya
wherever
imagine if teenagers said wherever
instead of whatever
boy i used to love that word whatever
now its so over bloody done
whatever
the twillies
got all that lingo down pat
mixed in with swedish accent
boy a whatever can go a long way to getting my goat
(no harm was done to the goat in the making of this sentence)
whatever daddeeeee!
aurora calls em the fashion freeks
and says she preferred em
when they didnt get up at 12 and go to bed at 3 in the morning
despite arguing n critizing each other all day
at 3 in the morning
theyre curled up on sofa together
watching some very stupid tv show
and they have a rationale
although theyve never put it into words
i will attempt it now
we ARE cultured educated feministick emancipated swedish chicks
therefore we can indulge in all this gossip celeb paris brad bullshit
as a kind of anthropological excursion into a tasteless world
and we can indulge in it as much as we want cos we wont get hooked…
oh but its addictive nasty stuff theyre peddling, those goss tycoons
as nasty as crack in its own way
virulent festering bile n dribble
oh god it makes you feel so badde reading those mags
just one goss rag makes me want to tear off the top
of my head n change my brain filter
cos yon gossie has fuckin clogged mah delly cate brain
can you truly dig the harm this stuff is doing?
the twillies can wade thru a hundred dentist waiting rooms of goss rags
and still be hungry for more
is there a connexion between the goss rags
and the “foundation” so many young women wear
on top of perfect downy youthful skin
a layer of blechhh!
ooh thats looks nasty
look even if yer olde n wrinkled like me
you can trowel that fucking stuff on
and its still gonna EMPHASISE yer flaws!
if you young what you need it for
who sold ya that lousy idea?
throw that rubbish away baybee
you dont need all that junk on yer dial
and the perfume…..
oh it can make me feel so sick
in a lift or a train
some bint with an overpowering sickly sweet atmosphere
whos chucked on some godawful “scent”
whats wrong with the way you smell as you are?
if you bathe regularly like the time being
you should have a pleasant warm woody aroma like me
and that goes for the men too
forget that ‘orrible ‘orrible o.d. cologne
aftershave and underarm goop
brut…have ya ever whiffed that muck
i had some brut underarm spray on once
when i still used poisonous aluminium filled stuff like that
when i was 18
it turned all my white tshirts grey under the arms
imagine what it was doing to me
if i get a disease in my armpits im gonna sue brut
sue brut…good name for all gurl rock band
anyway
people throw that stuff away
its a con they sold ya
women with makeup n perfume scared me as a kid
n they still do
a big pair of sticky red lips comin towards ya
and a cloud of some suffocating pong
no thanks
stay away from me aunty maude
dont pick me up n dont hug me
its grotesque
im a man
im no fool
i tell ya most men dont like it
you should be relieved
cant we all join our sacred hands
and proclaim
we dont want make up
we dont want perfume
we dont want aftershave n aluminium underarm gloop
we dont want goss rags
hmmm
maybe thats a chorus for something off the nu album
ahh (being eating vegemite toast)
well now im starting to enter the bargaining phase of my accnting denial
its 12o6 and still no veggie sausages cooked
nk + her little protege are having a nap
and im here alone
wreaking havoc
haha! oh ho!
the time being called for his pipe
he called for his bowl (what was in his bowl, though?)
and he called for his fiddlers 3
he had 3 fucking fiddlers?
wow some affluent king, right?
and dont forget sue bruts new record
grey underarm fixed

no this damn blogge is not a chore
dear disciple
how could you
of all people question me..
was it so much better when i wrote in the morning….?
i wonder
strange days for beeing
my mother was without power n phone cos of the storm
people have lost their lives
broken glass n bits of trees everywhere
floods
the ritziest hotel here in bondi
smells like a sewer
imagine if you was just arriving for yer honeymoon…
nk n i had our honeymoon in a nice hotel
with champagne and chocolate strawberries
we went out n had mexican food most nights
im sorry but i never get sick of guacomole
it was july and we swam in the atlantic out front of the hotel
we went to the amusement arcade known as funland
we felt sorry for the parrot in the cage in the foyer
what a shame for poor polly…
the weak afternoon sun gives its final burst
a blaze of glory
im listening to slowdive demos on shuffle
im dressed in black from head to foot
my beard is long and needs another trim
my suntan is starting to fade ever so slightly
im doing a lotta painting
i love to paint quite frankly
its one of my fave things to do
i can finally lose myself
which i long to do
oh i long to lose myself
and painting turns off the switch
have you tried painting
you out there
if yer stressed
buy a little paint set n some paper
have a go
it doesnt matter if its good or bad
its the process
put some music on
if you indulge in herbal relaxation
or a glass of red
or nothing
go on
what ya got to lose
it may do the trick
you got that big olde sheet of white paper
my art steering committee sent me four sizes of white paper
the paper itself is a trip
youll feel like a real pro peeling yer sheet outta the block
careful gooseball…dont rip the corners
and dont cut yerself on the paper
ooooh that smarts
now now now
stick it up on yer eisel
or down on the table
oh look at all that potential
you could do anything you like
why dont you?
go on
anything you like
break the rules
follow the guidelines
be picasso or turner or van go go
or naive or pointillist or futurist
or be yerself
can you carve out a new identity here
i wassa lucky in a way
i wasnt influenced by any artists
i was influenced by plenty of musicians
but no artists
i mean i admire em n stuff
but now when i paint
im a free man
i dont know what im doing
i dont know how to do it
and im not trying to be like anyone else
at least i got that
but my latest lot of paintings have got vibration
they have movement
which is what i want
want my paintings to move of their own accord
want them to have the effect my songs have
wanna hit it onna visual as well as aural level
yes im a fucking overachiever stretching my meagre talent thin
but what the hell
it keeps me off the streets
so start painting
or colouring
or drawing
or anything
invite girls up to see your etchings
if it works for ya
just get on with it
no more procrastination
art now
art
art
art
garfunkel

was gonna write something goode for a change
but i thought nah
i’ll just givem more of the same olde tripe
the olde guff and baloney
the meaningless dribble couched in embarrassing 4th form poetry
the pseudo oriental poppycock
half digested buddhist hippy nonsense
the bragging and whining
the “oh poor me but arent i great”?
you know
(groaning fiendss:yeah we know)
all that rambling vague bullshit about the sea n the sky
all that rose tinted schmaltzy nostalgiarama
about bass playing or painting…puh-leeze..
yeah yeah
ah whatever….
all that stuff
all that jive
all that whatchamacallit
yeah you got it now
slapdash impressionistic hoo ha
i mean real slapdash impressionistic hoo ha
and sillie spellingz or archaic words like lute
or family schmamily yawn it ups
all the kids with cute nicknames like
bongo
and jumper
a loopy olde guy in the daddy bizness
with five fiery fillies
starring ttb as nevets yeblik
this week
hilarity ensues as aussie surfer kids
drop round to date the twillies
yeblik is not handling the prospective suitors well
and baby jumper has just learned her first swear word
then the twillies switch identities to avoid being grounded
meanwhile yeblik is speaking at a prose festival
and the the doodles have doodled all over his prose
one of the doodles fish has babies…
one that the doodles had considered a boy
in a heartwarming and yet ribticklin’ funny scene
yeblik gives the doodles a talk about the birds n bees n…fish
baby jumper swallows the twillies nano
nk starts to pronounce tomato as tomahto
until her dad arrives from u.s.
doodles get a pet rabbit which gets caught in dishwasher
and a visit to vet (cameo by russell crowe)
anyway
today ive had hummous n tomato bagels
and tacquitos with guac
some sweets
fiji water
walked along the beach
storm has abated
will write
tomorrow