Town Crier

On a Sunday, not so long ago, I stand in the marketplace and shout unsolicited advice and general wisdom at passers by. A small boy approaches. “Morrissey is not what he seems”, I bellow. The boy turns, frightened,… Read More

MISTAKES

Face II

I found a new face on my back, using mirrors. I don’t know how long it has been there, staring into my shirt. I wouldn’t have thought to look were it not for a strange sensation that somebody… Read More

DARK

Barborocentric?

The following article was posted on the music blog Ballen’s View, written by noted journalist Edgar Ballen. As you’ll note if you’ve clicked on the link, the blog no longer exists, due to flooding. Flooding that I may… Read More

Fetch, Impossibly

If you were intrigued by yesterday’s write up of the IT IS IMPOSSIBLE story, but not quite intrigued enough to visit another website to listen to it, then I have some good news for you. The good news… Read More

The Making Of “IT IS IMPOSSIBLE”

Back in 2005, I woke from a fearsome slumber and summoned The Eggs to my side with the traditional bugle fanfare that has announced my intentions since the late 17th Century. “We shall record again” was my declaration…. Read More

CARS

The Winter

It was winter and the snow was falling, and the children were allowed to stay home from school, so they roamed the streets at random. Wrapped in so many coats and scarves that they could not be identified… Read More

The day it rained so hard my glasses were washed from my face and swept down the street like a paper boat lost on the seas

I was standing in a street that was infinite in every direction, even up, and quite possibly down. I hadn’t looked there because I was scared of heights, especially infinite ones. My mother had always said that I… Read More