Monday, 1 October 2012

"However, ( George ) Orwell got on well with young people. The pupil he beat considered him the best of teachers"

Sunday, 3 June 2012

Here lies Karenin. He gave birth to two rolls and a bee

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

SCENE 9 – Shot 2.

SCENE 9 – Shot 2. Med. Shot of left of room of dancers stretching and exercising.

Monday, 20 February 2012




Thursday, 16 February 2012

Monday, 16 January 2012

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

The worst song I have ever written today

Powered up in 1993
the golden child of a secret facility
Father was a research scientist
Mother was one two
I was built to protect
Built to protect you

I am the savour of the human race
I am the savour but I have no face
I have no hands and my arms are wires
if you have faith I can take you higher

I cannot feel but my concern is real
I must endeavour to save the earth
This was my task programed at birth

I am the savour of the human race
I am the savour but I have no face
My eyes are satellites all round this earth
Ive learnt about you from the internet you surf

I am the savour of the human race
I am the savour but I have no face

I'm a computer I never will die
I am a computer I do not cry

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Chicken Packing

Hit me, a fighty so-so, hit me, fighty real good

This is real, incredible, this is real, a a -inevitable

Chicken packing, chicken packing all night

Chicken packing,  chicken packings all right

Chicken packing, chicken packing all night

Chicken packing,  chicken packing its'allright

Guts! That's what I'm talking about,  talking about guts

See it to believe it,   guts!

I've been doing this job now for many years, 100 years, maybe 1000 years…

And I want to tell you…

That chicken packing…

Chicken packing…


It's all right!

Chicken packing all night

Chicken packing all right

Chicken packing all night

Chicken packing its'alright


When I was younger, the biggest jet , was the jumbo jet, it was as big as they get

Now I'm bigger, their bigger too, they even got double deckers

the ships they sail, the planes they fly, why can't I be jumbo?

the ships they sell the planes fly, why can I not the jumbo?

If I was going to tell a lie I would tell it true

Cannot get too upset with what the big boss do

If I could change my ways become an honest man

I would go back home do all the best I can

But I can't get upset with what the big boss do

Because just like him  when I say a lie, I say true

Never get a–to upset–oh  x 4

If every single word that I said

With every bloody word that I say

Yes every single word that I said

If every single word that I say

Could make you laugh,  could make you cry x 5  

Long time ago, I saw a movie, and this guy he called himself jumbo

Long time ago, long time ago, long time ago, jumbo.

Saturday, 10 December 2011

Charles Fourier

Charles Fourier's concern was to liberate every human individual, man, woman, and child via the "liberation of human passion"
Fourier felt that "civilized" parents and teachers saw children as little idlers and believed this was wrong. He felt that children as early as age two and three were very industrious and this industrious needed to be harnessed. Bellow he lists the dominant tastes in all children;

1. Rummaging or inclination to handle everything, examine everything, look through everything, to constantly change occupations;

2. Industrial commotion, taste for noisy occupations;

3. Aping or imitative mania.

4. Industrial miniature, a taste for miniature workshops.

5. Progressive attraction of the weak toward the strong.

David Cameron, yesterday

"I have not and have no plans to 

attend any  wife swapping parties," 

-David Cameron, yesterday

Tuesday, 6 December 2011


This blurt is not my blurt it is an invented blurt and may serve as a starting point to build a narrative around;

OK, They are saying that Roberto Mancini or the guy who runs Ferrari will be the prime minister of Italy, but not yet.. First They want an un-voted technocrat to absolutely ruin the place and screw everyone over. This will be done in an rational and appropriate way, not in the mad and inappropriate way that Silvio Berlusconi was doing it.

According to some, Mr Berlusconi had sex with a young lady who was too young and also a prostitute. She got arrested and Berlusconi tried to free her by getting someone to phone the police and tell them that she was the daughter of Hosni Mubarak This was before Mubarak was bad although the police had no idea if he was bad or good or something in-between bad and good, because they had no idea who he was. This caused some confusion until they realised that the request to free the girl came from the Prime Minister. Once they understood this they decided to free her.

This is an inappropriate way to run a country!

SO, the appropriate way must be that the Germans run the country? Even though they really, really don't want to. Because they're absolutely terrified! Because they know, everyone knows, that deep down inside the German psyche there's a voice that tells them;


This is very scary for the Germans and they have a hard time dealing with it. The French have been very understanding because they remember what happens when Germans get confused and misunderstood.

Is it true that the Italians were worried that the rest of the world was laughing at them? Or was that just an illusion that the rest of the world created because it was jealous of the advanced Italian politics / sex life? The same sort of thing as when the rest of the world really wanted the Americans to feel embarrassed about George Bush but the Americans wouldn't and this made everyone else even more jealous.

Anyway! Italians want to vote for someone like Roberto Mancini because he is hansom looking and wears nice suits. Or they want the guy who runs Ferrari because the one thing that Italy is very good at is making expensive red cars.

Monday, 5 December 2011

Dreamers - Ted Hughes


We didn't find her - she found us.
She sniffed us out. The Fate she carried
Sniffed us out
And assembled us, inert ingredients
For its experiment. The Fable she carried
Requisitioned you and me and her,
Puppets for its performance.
She fascinated you. Her eyes caressed you,
Melted a weeping glitter at you.
Her German the dark undercurrent
In her Kensington jeweller’s elocution
Was your ancestral Black Forest whisper -
Edged with a greasy, death-camp, soot-softness.
When she suddenly rounded her eyeballs,
Popped them, strangled, she shocked you.
lt was her mock surprise.
But you saw hanged women choke, dumb, through her,
And when she listened, watching you, through smoke,
Her black-ringed grey iris, slightly unnatural,
Was Black Forest wolf, a witch’s daughter
out of Grimm.
Warily you cultivated her,
Her jewishness, ser many-blooded beauty,
As if your dream of your dream-self stood there,
A glittering blackness, Europe’s mystical jewel.
A creature from beyond the fringe of your desk-lamp.
Who was this Lilith of abortions
Touching the hair of your children
With tiger-painted nails?
Her speech Harrods, Hitlers mutilations
Kept you company, weeding the onions.
An ex-Nazi Youth Sabra. Her father
Doctor to the Bolshoi Ballet.
She was helpless too.
None of us could wake up.
Nightmare looked out at the poppies.
She sat there, in her soot-wet mascara,
In flame-orange silks, in gold bracelets,
Slightly filthy with erotic mystery -
A German
Russian Israeli with the gaze of a demon
Between curtains of black Mongolian hair.
After a single night under our roof
She told her dream. A giant fish, a pike
Had a globed, golden eye, and in that eye
A throbbing suman foetus -
You were astonished, maybe envious.
I refused to interpret. I saw
The dreamer in her
Had fallen in love with me and she did not know it.
That moment the dreamer in me
Fell in love with her, and I knew it.

Friday, 2 December 2011

Sunday, 30 October 2011

Dmitry Medvedev decided on permanent summertime.

As almost all of Northern Europe set its clocks back overnight, Russia did nothing, opting instead to remain on summertime,




Thursday, 27 October 2011

Popular Shakespeare Quote No. 221

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing.



Friday, 14 October 2011

Extract from script

Based on Persian poem.

Mouse takes hold of camel’s lead rope 
and walked off with it singing same song as before “tra la la lee”, camel goes along,
letting the mouse feel heroic.

CAMEL Enjoy yourself, fool, soon I will teach you a lesson

On there walk they come a across bucket of water
Mouse looks very worried

CAMEL What are you waiting for? Step forward over the bucket You are my leader. Don’t stop here.

MOUSE I'm afraid of being drowned.

Camel steps into the water of the bucket.

CAMEL It’s only just above my feet, foolish mouse!

MOUSE Your feet! Your feet are ten times bigger than my tiny little head, I think I would certainly drown!

CAMEL Well, maybe you shouldn't be leading a camel. Stay with those like yourself. A mouse has nothing really to say to a camel.

MOUSE OK Yes I see now, please would you help me get across?

CAMEL Get up on my hump. I am made to take hundreds like you across. Phah!

Camel picks up mouse and takes her over the bucket

MOUSE Thank you so much!

Friday, 4 February 2011