John Watts' Blog

A 2-Tier Euro Poem

2010-12-03T09:19:00.000-08:00

Don’t want to say I told you so.
But many years ago..
As Europe was expanding,
Some people in the know..
Were cautious over currency.
The Euro must be split,
So rich and poorer countries
Could be comfortable in it.

A 2-Tier Euro System,
Would have eased financial strain,
My guess is that, this mess will make
Us look at it again!

Soft

2010-12-02T04:18:00.000-08:00

Soft

The world in white silence clad

`Til…

Scrape

The shovel rips white cotton world.

Then crow

Or seagull

Breaks the sound suspense

In a sense offensive

Innocence offended.

Soft

The contours of sweet slumber girl

Still warmth…

To countenance the rise and fall

Beside myself

In welcome duvet wrapped….

Soft.

Touring the Netherlands

2010-11-21T07:54:00.000-08:00

Generally, I'm very fond of the Dutch people and many of their beautiful towns.

I have one suggestion however...

Much of the road system in the middle of the country would definitely not be missed.

It would be much more fun to be in a boat jam than bumper to bumper on a flat landscape for hours on end. So I have a suggestion...

As most of Holland is below sea level I think it would be a good idea to pull out some of the plugs, let some of the water back in and convert the main road traffic arteries into water ways. This would considerably improve the quality of life and be strategically in line with global warming.

Check us out live!

2010-11-17T14:50:00.000-08:00

We are human screens!

More than music...... 'Head On' played live.

Come on.

Utrecht Tonight

2010-11-17T13:11:00.000-08:00

We're out here in Utrecht, preparing for the Dutch and Belgian shows over the weekend.

Plans are being hatched.

Websites will be updated.

There will be a constant newsfeed so everyone will be in the know and not just the chosen few.

We will project films onto ourselves.

We will be human screens.

Be there or miss it at your peril.....

The Treaty of Utrecht 1713 ........... PEACE!

Balance of power restored..... see history.

Out.

C'est Grand (It's Big) Verse 1

2010-11-03T14:18:00.000-07:00

Au réveil je crachais des clous rouillés

J'étais positivement bas

La vie trop vite, accroché à un tigre

J'étais positivement bas

Je tourne la langue autour de mes lèvres

Cherchant un déclic

Je me pèse et me sens merdique

Assomé en sommeil alcoolique

Je souffre d'un stress, d'un stress chronique.

Origins of management

2010-11-01T13:23:00.000-07:00

It was much better for music when artists were ripped off and managers were crooks! Everything was clearer. Live music was part of a diverse bill that included strippers, comics and a variety of other performers. The ‘hoods’ ran the clubs, the girls, the drink and drug rackets; ripping off the punters and performers alike. All aspects were stitched up by these colourful characters, who inevitably became the first promoters and managers. ‘The Management’ had the job of making money out of their musician charges. This involved extorting money, threatening people, breaking and twisting the arms of the media; specialist activities which came to them naturally. Most musicians were dedicated and talented artists who had proven themselves to be resiliant live performers in front of a critical and intolerant audience. Ah.... the good old days!

3rd of the 5 poems in Berlin

2010-10-30T15:46:00.000-07:00

Parasleepamol

Sleep, we need more sleep

To underpin our natural zest

Sleep, we need more sleep

So we perform our very best

Sleep, we need more sleep

To take the quiver from our voices

Sleep, we need more sleep

To help improve our business choices

Sleep, we need more sleep

To feed the fire in our soul

Sleep, we need more sleep

So give me parasleepamol.

Last of the 5 Berlin poems..

2010-10-29T15:57:00.000-07:00

On Draughty Railway Stations

I've been to this town fifty times

But never quite like this

I went to sleep on German dark

And woke up with a kiss

I've been to this town fifty times

In many different guises

It never ceases to amaze

Or come up with surprises

I've been to this town fifty times

With multi generations

My colour changes as I sit

On draughty railway stations.

I'm covered in White plastic...

2010-10-24T06:41:00.000-07:00

Were covering everything in white sticky backed plastic for the White Nights MtM Tour.

Yes even that!

Morethanmusic Live Model for press

2010-10-22T04:14:00.000-07:00

John Watts’ Morethanmusic - A New Live Model. Press Release.

At a time when the whole music industry has turned to live performance

as a primary stream of income and everyone from Prince to Simply Red

gives away albums on the front of a newspaper, John Watts once again

turns the business model on it's head.

Following on from his innovative 'Artefact' art pieces each featuring a

unique hand drawn picture and a song written specifically for the buyer

along with the exclusive right of exploitation and a 13 track album with

13 accompanying films, John Watts is now offering an art and musical

event where ART STUDENTS are invited free to take part in the

performance by dressing in white and forming a living projection

screen as part of the show. These are young people who wouldnʼt be

able to afford the concert.

As Watts himself says 'With ticket prices going up and up and the

market over saturated with over priced bands I wanted to find a way to

allow people to take part in something unique where not only do they

get to see the show for free but they also become part of it'. They might

even want to buy a CD! All they have to do is wear all white clothing.

Morethanmusic is available on Smarten Up Records from 22 Oktober.

We want more people for the Human Screen

2010-10-22T04:11:00.000-07:00

DEUTSCHE STUDENTEN FREUNDE

More People for the Human Screen !!!!!

MEHR ALS MUSIK

26.Oktober - Frannz Club, BERLIN

27.Oktober - Knust, HAMBURG

28.Oktober - Kantine, KOLN

Please come and join us at our ʻWhite Nights/Nuit Blancheʼ

Morethanmusic Event and be a part of a White Film screen.

If you are dressed all in white clothes with your student ID..

Ask for John or Sarah and you will get in free!

JOHN WATTS' MORETHANMUSIC - 2010 SHOW DETAILS.

HINTERGRUND

The White Night/ Nuit Blanche is a cultural celebration to mark

the end of British Summertime as the clocks go back in the last

week of October. At the beginning of the performance the stage

will be filled with people in white clothes. Gradually they will join

the audience to reveal the band.

KRITIK

“At a ʻWhite Nightʼ John Wattsʼ Morethanmusic performance

the musicians and audience become an integral part of the

visuals. By using two video projectors, the stage and the

musicians together provide the white screen for the projection.

This is More Than Music!” – Brighton Latest 2010

http://www.facebook.com/pages/John-Watts-Fischer-Z-Official-

Page/110164202354204

http://johnwatts.co.uk/MtM/Twitter.php

http://www.youtube.com/user/TheJohnWatts

JOHN WATTS' White Night/Nuit Blanche

2010-10-21T15:16:00.000-07:00

JOHN WATTS' MORETHANMUSIC - 2010 SHOW DETAILS.

BACKGROUND

The White Night/ Nuit Blanche is a cultural celebration to mark the end of British Summertime as the clocks go back in the last week of October.

At the beginning of the performance the stage will be filled with people in white clothes. Gradually they will join the audience to reveal the band.

A REVIEW.

“At a ‘White Night’ John Watts’ Morethanmusic performance the musicians and audience become an integral part of the visuals.

By using two video projectors, each overlapping the other just slightly, the stage and the musicians together provide the white screen for the projection.

The projection is a continuous flow of John's footage shot for the 'Morethanmusic' album, interspersed with other chosen black& white imagery.

This is More Than Music!” – Brighton Latest 2010

Hopefully I will see some of you ............ maybe in white clothes!

Don't hesitate to mail me on info@johnwatts.co.uk.

Karma Burns

2010-10-20T13:22:00.000-07:00

They smashed my car

Tore out it's heart

It's almost blown

My week apart.

The final straw

The camel's broke

Bad karma burns

The music bloke.

A Palmeira Play

2010-10-15T18:34:00.000-07:00

A sun still full of summer shine
Blue ray sky thin but still robust
High definition world exudes
Unsullied hope vacation dreams
Perched on the end of café line
A yoga addict strokes her bust
A botox culture interlude
Infused with herbs and primal screams.

Two generations of the fit
Bathed in the light that warms my cheek
Where prayer mats stacked against the wall
Provide a cushion for the day
And now no places left to sit
Proximity has reached its peak
As conversations rise and fall
A canopeed Palmeira play.

2010-10-15T10:47:00.000-07:00

Good to see so many folks checking out the URSo track on Reverbnation!

Lisa Simpson

2009-03-19T17:38:00.000-07:00

A Dream Story

Tonight a strong wind rages from Northeast to Southwest, from one ear to another.
Tension and discomfort have turned into fatigue and indifference.
Everyone thinks about dying sometimes.
Last night I was kept awake by thoughts of decline - not death.

I started to interpret indigestion as coagulating blood, irratic pressure and chunks of coloesterol breaking off; threatening to lodge in my heart or my brain. Depression is
simply a state of mind. Doing is the only cure for worry.“Take the frog and swallow him whole!”

Mary Poppins knew a thing or two about psychology. (And Nazis.)
“Just a spoonful of sugar etc etc.” “The hills are alive with the sound of ethnic cleansing.”

Before finally going to sleep, I was searching for the word ‘Closure’.
The pillow morphed into a most inhospitable boulder, causing great pain in my neck and shoulder. Then there were the dreams…At first scanties. Elusive female figures that smelt
of love and roses.

I was so thirsty, but searched in vain for a drink.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by orchids and savage faces and gallons of water filled with refridgerators,rusty automobiles and tumbling blue children.

Dozing here in my chair I can feel another dream coming on…..
Tonight – Around the world with Lisa Simpson’s Jazz Quartet. (With me on drums!)

Sleep tight ‘my little Droogies’
Dream safely...

Madonna Kickboxing

2009-03-15T13:39:00.001-07:00

Poor old Madge!

Ladies who aspire to the physique of a string bean will never rate as sexy in my book.

Call me conservative.. but I'm a great fan of woman-shaped women.

Kick boxers are, I'm sure, great 'dudes' - but chaps by definition.
I've just seen a classic neo-naked 'kickboxer Madge' pic.

Give me curves and soft bits and .... sense of humour, sensuality also.
A good solid set of beliefs is never a bad thing either.

I was spinning through the statistics of those who take the greatest flack on the net.
Madge is in the top ten!

But check out her clarinet playing manual....... it's ultra sound!

Regards,
Max Clifftop.

National Health Service

2009-03-13T16:59:00.000-07:00

It seems like the only guaranteed area of growth in the present economic situation is the size of the mental health business.

It took me 25 years to realise that the main purpose of creating and performing art is to make people happy. Fortunately the only other thing I’m qualified to do is examine peoples’ minds to see what’s making them unhappy or ‘mad’.

The government is apparently setting aside money to employ cognitive psychologists to council people in positivity, to combat the background of depression and debt.

I’m reminded of this situation by seeing my herbalist friend across the other side of the café this morning.

Doctors, dentists, opticians, lawyers and accountants have always had that guarantee of indispensibility, but now they are joined by any ‘loon’ who can cheer other people up a bit.

Scotland’s responding by upping the price of alcohol to reduce the amount of drunkeness. Personally, I would say that half a bottle of rioja is cheaper and more effective than a consultation with 95% of psychiatrists ans psychologists.

You Tube Rules - Multinationals Suck OK?

2009-03-09T18:53:00.000-07:00

You Tube and myspace provide incredible showcases for all artists' work and also allow people power to make its own choices.

The Performing Rights Societies are supposed to be the protectors and collectors of rights and income for songwriters like me. If TV or radio stations play my full quality audio or visual work, then I expect a reasonable royalty.

The greedy media multinationals, and not the artists, are behind the recent You Tube fiasco.
The usual bunch of big company exploitative scum trying to weedle maximum cash for no effort as their boat goes down. They no longer invest in development, or have any creative input whatsoever. They've finally got what they deserve - Simon Cowell.

200,000 viewings of one of my 30 year old videos on YouTube earn me nothing,
But this is not the same as 200,000 television plays.

It would be fitting if the creators received an appropriate remuneration from the 'You Tubes' of this world. The great thing about the net is that it has the potential of excluding many of the big business parasites.

We're mainly talking sharing and free marketing here, but obviously the words 'free' and 'market' have rather a bad name at present!

(P.S. Is You Tube virtually a multinational?)

Love,

John.

Hospitality Lunch

2009-03-06T06:15:00.000-08:00

The credit crunch is producing unexpected excitement at a local Italian Restaurant.
We ordered a very reasonably priced lunchtime meal with free wine.

The waitress was even more friendly than usual.
‘Monstrous portions’ for regulars were mentioned.

“That’s an enormous glass of wine.” I remarked.

“Oh yes …. Perfect for you Sir!” was the reply.

Whatever next?

To what lengths will these restaurant owners push their unfortunate staff?

‘Hosptality’ at the back bar as you await your meal?
3-Course lunch £6.95 or £15.95 with “Happy Ending’?!

Already on the Hove ‘Strip’ there is some evidence of combining restaurants and escort agencies.

Mr.Manic

2009-03-02T14:28:00.000-08:00

Here I am in my regular café writing.
My latte and croissant in front of me.
The business itenary is out of the way and I’m settling back to write a bit of dialogue
“ Jane is berating her Dad….”

There’s an irritating ‘Cluck cluck cluck…'
I’m suddenly aware of the geezer behind me.
Curly hair.
Good jeans.
Expensive trainers.
MANIC HEAD MOVEMENTS.
One of the girls comes to take his order.
He’s well-spoken.
He orders kidneys.
BUT HE’S OFF HIS BOX!
Mr.Happy, clucking, fidgety, drumming and he’s rustling his papers.
He leaves all his valuables and rushes out to the tobacconist.
He returns with a magazine.
This man could be on drugs.

Cafe Crashview

2009-02-27T09:00:00.001-08:00

Here in the window of my café all is peaceful - Until wallop!
A silver van crashes up on the pavement in front of me, through the glass.
It judders to a halt and takes out a cash machine sign.
Inside is a 65 year old woman wearing a white wooly hat. She looks shocked.
Next I notice a flashing blue light behind the van.
My brain puts 2 and 2 together. Maybe the police car had been following her.
Had she panicked and pulled over recklessly, or did the police just happen to be here and spun around in pursuit?

Before she could get out of the vehicle, one of the blonde women traffic police was there holding her driver’s door and removing her car keys.
The driver smiled nervously as the second policewoman arrived with an enormous set of handcuffs jangling from her belt.
The police seemed to be assessing if the driver was drunk or simply inept.
They took details. Heads were shaken. Phonecalls were made.

No harm done it seems. It was lucky that there was no one on the pavement.
In the end, the police car drove off with the van driving following them. I think the driver had damaged a tyre as she bumped up on the kerb.
Maybe she was being led to a tyre garage.
Maybe she was a ‘would be ram raider'......
Maybe I should drink less coffee.

Sylvia Murphy and chips

2009-02-25T16:05:00.000-08:00

I’m told it’s the best fish supper in town….
‘Never had Montpelciano in a chippie before.
(Can’t spell it even)
On my left is a bloke in clothes that Elton John would be proud of - complete with spangled glasses.
Sitting opposite him is ‘dufflecoat man’. (Ooooh. Watch it.)
There’s a queue for fish and chips as long as your arm.
I can see why.
I have lucked into a different world.
I’ve gone back to a Friday night forty years ago.
My waitress, Silvia, Is straight from a Shepperton movie, with her kindly ‘Loves’ and ‘Darlins’.
Hopefully the recession is good for this timeless institution……
more smiling faces than I’ve seen in a restaurant for a long time.
Anxious man - on phone talks about his Mum in hospital, exchanges a constant flow of pleasantries with Silvia.
Lady - with a cap that she’s had since the sixties, goes through her texts and awaits her cod.
She holds her cheeks and wonders what I’m writing about.

Mark Knopfler in Dunkirk

2009-02-23T08:45:00.000-08:00

Dear Mark,

I just had lunch in a restaurant in Dunkirk on my way to the Channel Tunnel. It was run by your French double.

He chatted up a pair of 40 plus dyed blondes until they giggled and wiggled. He deftly crouched down to table level and whispered outrageous things in their ears. He then ‘shimmied’ across the restaurant and even mimed playing guitar to a James Brown record!

His staff were oppressed and under-dressed. (If a little overfed.)

He had a two-faced smile and regularly went out for cigarettes.

The steak and chips weren’t any more exciting.

Hope you’re well,

Love,

John.

Broken Bus

2009-02-21T16:20:00.001-08:00

Roll up, roll up, roll up, roll up
For the sordid broken bus
The train line’s dead
You’ve got this instead
But it sure ain’t down to us.
Baldies, coughing Yugoslavians
Air hostess with perfect nylons
Camp in glasses
Punk in hat
Almost sleeping almost sat

Back behind me angry couple
Haven’t spoken.. he’s in trouble
Roll on Brighton, roll on bed
Mr.Marples must be dead.

How to treat your muse.

2009-02-19T15:31:00.000-08:00

Picasso seems to have had seven significant muses in his life, the majority of whom came to a sticky end.
It is sometimes overlooked that his last wife had him exclusively for the best part of forty years.
She did however, kill herself after his death.
Would contemporary society tolerate a Damien Hurst blatantly engaging in an affair with another woman, if his partner was dying of consumption?
In our PC world a Tracey Emin would surely be lauded for keeping a boyfriend on a lead.

Surreal's alright

2009-02-13T08:18:00.000-08:00

So high up the mountain
So low for a moment
So full of impatience
So heavily laden
So near to the door
So sure that it’s closing
So tempted to panic
So damn well imposing.

So close to fulfilment
So far from elation
So on the right track but..
So far from the station
So aware of the pressure
So scared of the heights
So squeeze me so squeeze me
Surreal’s alright.

Language Limitation

2009-02-12T07:29:00.000-08:00

At the brasserie I sit and listen to 3 or 4 conversations in French.
It’s a bit like being dumb.
I can understand the gist of what they’re saying, but I can’t join in.
Words are precious to me.
My ability to interact in French is so limited.
I am actually ashamed.

“How am I?”
“Well… I’m fine thank you.”
“What would I like for lunch?”
“A chef’s salad and a small red, please.”
“What is Sarah doing?”
“She is having lunch with her mother.”

That’s it for me ..... until later.

“How’s your food?”
“Fantastic.”
“Where are you going now?”
“I’m going up the mountain.”

But what a waste.
I can’t let anyone how I feel.
I can’t ridicule Sarkozy's political arrogance.
More importantly, I can’t explain how the glorious Mediterranean sunlight balancing upon the top of the bombed-out 'deco' hotel, makes me feel glad to be a human being.

Extract 3 from 'The Reconciled'

2009-02-11T06:24:00.000-08:00

Fleur : “Pete … We’re losing you!”
(Pete smiles..)
Pete : “I was just trying to remember the ‘Christmas Crunch’ Poem. It seems a bit irrelevent now.”
He turns to Max. The man who’s face seems to be permanently smiling.

Pete : “Max… Do you think that we will be able to see Jean-Claude Thackery tomorrow before I fly up to Paris?”

Max : “I’ll give him a ring…Or at least I’ll speak to his Missus.

It’s so difficult to pin him down … because he’s so bonkers! You realise he has virtually no contact with what we know as the real world.
Without his wife Veronique, he would be totally stuffed.
Do you remember the story I told you about him flying into Amsterdam to do an exhibition in The Hague?
Veronique was unable to go too because she had pleuresy.
He arrived…. then rode around on the Dutch railway network for a few hours, ending up in Rotterdam station. Fortunately Veronique was contacted when Jean-Claude tried to purchase a first class ticket to Prague with her credit card!”

Pete : “I remember." (Pause.)

Pont du Loup 09.02.09

2009-02-09T06:33:00.000-08:00

Moving water on all sides.

A week of mountain rain has produced a fine free flowing legacy.
The river as wild as white horses – a rush of liquid wonder.
The magnificent sun over the Gorges accentuates the exotic perspective and produces a constant flow of gem reflections.

I remember her favourite phrase. “There Is no love without proof of love.”
(It’s better in French, but I can’t reproduce it here.)

Love must be lived. Not just the fundamental love between men and women and parents and children. Religions constantly refer to loving a God.

Loving the river, the sun, the glorious landscape, the glistening waterscape, the sound of the birds singing, the smell of this coffee, even the freedom to be sitting here right now is an inspirational experience if not a spiritual one. I certainly feel love, loved and enlightened without the restrictions of any religious formality.

Nice Snow Poem revisited in French 2009

2009-02-08T15:18:00.000-08:00

Snowing on the sunny Cote
The folks are in a flurry
Cocooned up in their overcoats
Like rich old girls in Surrey
Minks and foxes, polar fleece
Are de rigueur in central Nice
I must alert the style police
And go in search of curry.

Il neige sur la Côte
Les gens ont froid et s'agitent
Emballés dans leurs manteaux
Comme des vieilles dames riches
fourrures, renard, lapin, polaires
sont de rigueur à Théoule-sur-Mer
Je dois alerter la police de la mode
Et aller à la recherche d'une boisson chaude.

Roll on Apocalypse - the Easyjet way.

2009-02-07T17:54:00.000-08:00

Well before Global warming finally destroys the planet, the vast majority of humankind will have already have exterminated one another. Whenever you get too many people jammed into a tight space, especially if they are in a tense-making enviroment, there will be impatience and aggression leading to violence. I thoroughly approve of this situation. It will be the great leveller.

Before the world’s resources are used up there will inevitably be resource wars. Competition for control of fossil fuel resources has aready caused major armed conflict in the last twenty years and this is only the start of an apocalyptic phase.. Good I say. Good bad news for newspapers, better ratings for news TV, More news as entertainment.

The myth that there is enough food and resources to give every single human being a reasonable standard of living is complete hogwash. Even if this were true the life-comforting commodities are not distributed in the right places. We are a fundamentally selfish, unpleasant, self-destructive species. There is basically no hope for us whatsoever. Being delayed in Gatwick airport in the claustrophobic confines of Gate1 with the fellow passengers of Easyjet Fight EZY5069 to Nice, simply reinforces my scepticism.

DO YOU BELIEVE THIS? Don’t you get so irritated with the negativity exhuded by the majority of people who should be so grateful for their sheltered cosy existences? The so-called “Credit Crunch’ is the obsession and creation of predominantly middle class people who stand to pay slightly less on their mortgages, a little more for their electronic gadgets, lose out on a bit of their pensions and maybe find it a little more expensive to retire in France. They may drink less fine wine and In the most extreme of cases even lose their overpaid job and consider a real existence…. Let’s ditch this pathetic melodrama.
Roll on a mega material collapse. Viva humanity. BRING IT ON!

My 21st Century Thong

2009-02-06T15:46:00.000-08:00

I saw the most 21st century thing,
A girl with a tattooed on thong.
Not silken, or cotton, or held up with string,
The concept of 'undies' undone.
It might save the laundry and ironing as such,
But increasing the number of holes in your crotch,
Is unnatural and doesn't appeal to me much.
It seems fundamentally wrong.

Flippant extract 2 from 'The Reconciled' draft

2009-02-05T15:26:00.000-08:00

Our hero spent the last 2 minutes trying to think himself into the persona of a pot plant
to avoid detection and grisly death.
Look “I am a geranium! I am a geranium! I am a geranium!”
He said ... I can frighten away mosquitoes,
I make a passable addition to salads and…
I have never been up Morrissey’s bottom.
Leave that to the Gladys the gladioli.

At that moment a hairy brown monstrous arm smashed through the ceiling and attempted to crush our hero like a ripe plum would be squashed between the thighs of an Austrian lady downhill skier…

Poem for John Mortimer

2009-02-04T06:44:00.000-08:00

Brother John is moving on
To where the greatest wits have gone
Defender of the justly lewd
There wont be any more like you

Oxford born and Oxbridge raised
Grand master of the courts and stage
Divorce and murder innuendo
Silk success Chianti Cocteau

“No brilliance needed in the law”
His father blind before him saw
Common sense and fingernails
Is all that being ‘brief’’ entails

He circumnavigated Dad
His muse and literary launching pad
He found the secret of divorce
And championed sexual intercourse

He stood accused of flippancy
Became his Rumpole legacy
Author playwright at the bar
How I wonder where you are.

Extract from my 'Ergo Eggers' S.O.C (revisited)

2009-02-03T14:11:00.000-08:00

Seriously short of short short stories. Story writer, poet and starving scribbler of English descent (falling over so much less these days) will cover anything you like from Credit crunch to Sunday lunch, Gordon Brown to Eva von Braun, Karl Marx to stripey underpants, Stockhausen to Waterman, Raymond Briggs to Raymond Chandler, Botticelli to vaseline, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Beck to Becks, black is black I want my country back. Damon Albarn to colonic irrigation. Malaria, TB, asylum seekers, gold diggers, Mafia in Brighton, yappies, tramps and thieves, vast numbers of welded on body parts - spare a little Cher for me. But let's cut to the chase here. The point, the reason, the focus, the strap line. There are too many men in my life - to one I'm a husband and the other I'm a wife (and they both eat shredded wheat). Words, words, what are words worth? I wandered lonely as a goat, that dug some holes in Basingstoke. Alas, poor Shakespeare, I knew him well enough to know that he had so much trouble writing The Tempest at the same time as undergoing sex change surgery. Evidence? But should suffer a sea change into something rich and strange…I'm a qualified clinical psychologist you know. I can create problems for anyone. Celebrated celibates and celebrities a speciality. Hey, we're all going on a summer holiday! I specialise in free-flowing extrapolation of overheard snippets of real lives of passing strangers. (Overheard not two minutes ago.) "Do you know what Rosie does when she gets excited?". Hmmmm. Now is Rosie a cute little girl? Or a one-legged Lituanian opportunist pole dancer? The answer must be that when Rosie gets excited she either 1) emits green projectile vomit in all directions a la Carrie Fisher, or 2) transforms her freshly acquired copy of The Spectator into a more than acceptable didgeridoo. Rosie looms into view and rumbles past pierced, pissed, lewd and tattooed. (My illusions shattered.)

Midlife Social Intercourse (In the snow)

2009-02-02T17:24:00.000-08:00

Today 12 cm (of snow) stopped almost half the UK population from working.
In fact, almost half the population of the UK were confined in my cafe where I was trying to write dialogue. I was surrounded mainly by women who were mainly younger than me.

And why not?

It reminded me of this poem.
(And remember..... even the snow is Gordon's fault.)

Women of a certain age
Brunching on a winter's day
Coiffured hair and subtle colours
Divorced of course, unmarried mothers.

When 'Girls night out' turns into lunch
Organic takes the place of wine
And therapy the place of sex
That's what the modern world expects.

And as they congregate to go
The 'ipod touches' out in force
The dates put in, the ebb and flow
Of Midlife Social Intercourse.

Extract 1 from 'The Reconciled' draft

2009-02-01T14:02:00.000-08:00

(He gets up in the carriage…and makes as if to sing. Then changes his mind and sits down again.)

“I’m not dead… I’m not dead
There’s just a little alien growing in my head
We’ve poisoned it with chemicals
And zapped it very hard
I get hallucinations and I’m permanently scarred.
I get hallucinations and I’m permanently scarred.
I’m doing lots of things… that I’ve never done
I think I’ll shove a gladioli halfway up my bum
The business-lady opposite
Would get a nasty shock
If I took my freezing Nokia
And shoved it up her frock! ……..Weeeeeeee”
(Pete laughs to himself – someone has to)

His mobile phone rings… (A beautiful piece of classical music)
He answers it.
Its his agent.

“Hello Petal. “

Ans : “Hello Luvvie. .. Do you want to show off for me next week?”

“Hmmmmmm.. Maybe. Where?”