Posts

Showing posts from September, 2019

Legend Tripping

Image
  1. Most of the children of Carlin High School were engaged in the usual playground activities, girl gossiped rapidly sounding like a thousand busy typewriters; youthful first years laughed and chas ed each other around the yard, burning off energy; older kids from the rough end of town hid behi nd the toilets, smoking weed. Steven was sitting alone, perched on the fence like a hawk, watching all the normal mayhem when he spotted Simon Anderson take a nosedive onto the concrete. The boy just went white and dropped, and even though the other kids were making a godawful din, Steven definitely heard Simon’s skull crack like a heavy egg as it smashed onto the ground. The noise was a sickening, hollow sound that made his heart jump in his chest. He immediately jumped off the fence and rushed to see if the older boy was alright. In the seconds it took him to move to where Simon was, there was a large crowd around Simon, some girls were screaming, an older boy was shouting, “Get a tea
Post a Comment
Read more

Maledictions.

Image
Stephen Sweeney /  Derelict tenement on Paisley Road West  /  CC BY-SA 2.0  “ I’ll sing you nine, O” Brothers, who the fuck would have them? Eddie had always hated his brother Ronnie, even as kids. He remembered his parents forcing both of them to Sunday School and being taught the tale of Cain and Abel. He got a different message from that than the teacher tried to give. Cain was the law abiding son, like Eddie. Cain knew that the animals were filled with the same breath of life as he, that Abel’s sacrifice of livestock was a blasphemy, and yet, Abel was the one the Lord had favoured. Cain, the good son, was not jealous of this, he was enraged by the injustice and had thought, if animal sacrifice grant ed such favour then human sacrifice would bear greater reward s . In a way Cain had been right. So Eddie had concluded as he packed the claw hammer, rope candles and bible into his black Adidas sports bag. Cain h ad been specially protected by God. Those unique interpre
Post a Comment
Read more

Rant.

So it's like this, right? There's reality, no one's disputing that, well except maybe the Solipsists, but pay them no mind. Then we've got our sensorum which apprehends small hints at what's out there based on a very limited band of the electromagnetic spectrum and interaction of nerve tissue with matter. Once that's picked up then it goes through our brains own interpretation processes and we understand what we are perceiving. Then, over and above that, we pin symbols to everything we can find. I mean, take a look at the room you're in right now, besides all the text on the screen, how many words can you see just with a quick scan? How many words have you collected in your house? How many out in the street, on buses, cars, billboards, clothing, street signs, traffic signs, store signs, graffiti, posters, adverts, adverts, adverts! Right? Listen, I was out in Borneo once, half a lifetime ago. We drove for hours through this empty countryside and then we
Post a Comment
Read more

Popular posts from this blog

Ring Bang Skoosh

So what you do is get a 60a bus over to Duke Street from the City Centre. Keep going right along Duke Street until you get past the remaining houses and the industrial park. The bus will eventually take a second right at a large roundabout. You'll not be able to miss it. It's beside another industrial park. You'll want to get off the bus at the next stop and then wait for the 257A. They're not common, one every half an hour (if you're lucky) and only between 8 A.M. and 5.30 P.M. If you've missed it and have to wait you could do worse than Babs Café across the road. Go get something delicious to eat. Don't get me wrong her cuisine is part of the cultural dietary pandemic that's reduced life expectancy in the areas of the east end to that of cavemen, but her deep fried pizza slice on a roll with chips is well worth the fucking risk. Anyway, once you're on the 257A you'll head south east along an empty area for about three quarters of a mil
Read more

Gross Domestic Product: 8

Image
Chapter Eight. It took the taxi almost half an hour to get through the West-End and up through the north of the city out into Milngavie. Some roadworks at the switchback had left the entire end of the town in one long traffic jam, according to the driver anyway. Pete was not impressed, not one bit. By the time he stepped out he’d stumped up twelve quid and his skin felt like it needed massaged by a crazed acupuncturist. The cold hurt was becoming too real for him to bear but he knew he’d just have to tough it out. He’d con Baird, or failing that, rob the place, get that stupid lamp and then he could relax, shoot up and have a nice long gouch. After that he’d go to Allerdyce and before long have another five grand in his pocket. That would give him nearly ten grand, enough to solve his problems. Enough to propel him out of Glasgow’s moribund gravitational pull once and for all. He just needed to keep it together for another hour or two. The house he stood outside looked
Read more

The Scheme

Nineteen eighty nine, a number, another summer; sound of the funky drummer ubiquitous on the radio. Gordon Harper drummed his fingers against the wheel in time to the tune. It was a nervous staccato, no doubt about that. As he sat parked on Casgairt Road he wondered if he should just bolt. He'd a couple of grand left in his savings, and could be on the next flight to Chilé or Singapore, could be anywhere but here. He threw his cigarette butt out the window and immediately lit another. This was going to be a bad job, that became apparent as soon as Skinny's name was mentioned. When Dunkie mentioned that nutter he should have said “I'm out.” He didn't. No, he didn't want to look like a shitebag in front of the big boys. If he had any real stones he would have told Dunkie to take a fuck to himself. Instead he was sitting with a fucking shotgun under his seat waiting for that nutjob Willie Barr. Total... Fucking... Nightmare! Once more he sucked on th
Read more