27 December 2010

The chimp and the butterfly

And with a malicious and deliberate flap of its wings, the balance was disturbed. The chimp realized in horror that it would take more than a dozen centuries for the resulting storm to destroy the world. He decided not to tell anyone... besides... the butterfly was delicious.

19 December 2010

Message in a bottle

Dear Reader,

I had always hoped to find a certain something, a particular thing which no man or woman had ever seen before. As I grew old my travels in search of this thing were further and further abroad. It was to be my last trip, the most daring and dangerous, in which I finally found what I was looking for;

Travel as far east on a flat world as you can. Travel over the rolling hills, beyond the horizon of the the sand whipped desert, sail across the entire ocean to the edge of the world... and don't stop there. Peer over the edge if you dare as the lightning arches around the edge of the world. Await three strokes of thunder and the raging maelstroms will claw your ship below the water... and to the world on the other side.

Behold the ocean of quicksand, and the land of ice, the frozen negative of the world above. Here is the domain of magic, where it flows like diamonds in the wind to make life of its own. No star in the sky is still and move as if they were fireworks in slow motion. See the flocks of purple birds slither through the sky and pick at the glistening fish stumbling over the ocean ripples. Stare in awe at the majestic roots of the aqua-blue trees which hang from the dark sky's auroras. Festive shadows dance beneath the glowing leaves and laugh among the moonlight beams.

Find your way to the largest tree in the land, the one that reaches all the way to the snowy ground. Climb the staircase of silver rail, cut into its branches. And come at last to the city of roots, atop the starstruck night sky. Here you will find the city of fair people who live in peace and harmony. Each maiden more fair and each man more strong and handsome than those from where you came. Here the magic provided for all, and life was devoted to the betterment of the self and others and all. Of such beauty was their city that it would make a hard sailor weep.

A utopia was what I searched for. A utopia was what I found. But as I realize now I have come to live among these people, I have not found what I should have been looking for: A utopia in my own world.

Yours in truth,

An old man who found his dream

25 November 2010

You and I

So... were we friends or were we   f riends?

19 November 2010

Just for you

Just for you

25 October 2010

Friendship of the species

At what point did did humans fall in love with animals? When did they become friends instead of enemies or competitors? When did the first Fido play fetch? When did the first Mittens mew for milk?

When did we learn to communicate? Sure we will never speak together, but we understand everything that the other thinks and feels and does.

I wonder what the future holds for all our animals on earth... I really hope they are in it with us.

16 October 2010

Deep cool

It happens quickly: It begins at the tips of your toes, at the tips of your fingers, then slams through your body to the core. It takes your entire conscious thought away for that brief moment as you slide gracefully into the deep cool of the water.

Hard, cold and algae-smooth; the rock presses on the arches of your feet as they slide of against the bottom of the pond. From around your skin, crystal shards brush against you to shimmering surface, bubbles like a pain of glass shattering in reversed time.

Pause a moment and open your eyes... See the sun's blurry columns dance in deep green cool, and feel your subconscious recall the memories of your blood... Once, you were at home in the water. Then you returned only to hunt for food. Now you return just to feel its comfortable embrace... unaware of why.

10 October 2010

The loopy old man

that loopy old man that lives just down the road
he has sammon for dinner and breakfasts on toad.
he has seven green cats which dont have a name,
and a gigantic blue dog thats compleatly insane

now if you go to his house, outside it you'll find,
a teapot door knock that'll just blow your mind;
its fixed on his post-box which is also his door,
and beside it, his garrage, containing a boar.

now its said the old chap wasnt always this way
it all happend back on that fatefull day
He was doing his taxes, as tell you he will,
when by some fluke, he divided by nill

little did he know the trouble this would cause
'cause if you sucseed, and the answer is yours
They say that the universe can do funny things
Like blow up your calculator with the sound of bell rings

Now the poor guy has to live out his life
With green cats and a dog, instead of a wife
a teapot door-knock and a postbox front door
and in his garage, a smelly old boar

According to the file's date created, I wrote this on the 31st of may 2009.

30 September 2010


So what if it's really obvious? In fact that's a great way to forget how special something is: See it around you all the time and eventually you don't see it anymore.
Did you know, that if you put a seed in the ground, it will grow into a plant?
Of course you do. But when last did you ever do that? For me, it was back in primary school for a biology project.

Recently I planted some chilli seeds. Today the little green leaves came up out of the ground. Isn't that amazing though? I mean... when I started on my goal to grow these plants it was like "I'm just gonna produce me some chillies..." But then after waiting for about a week, when the little leaves popped out the ground it was like "Holy crap! MY BABIES!"

It got me thinking though... its kinda like when you order something from amazon: you know its coming... you don't know when.... but you know its going to take a while. Then when it arrives it is really exiting and even though you didn't order anything particularly amazing it is now your prized possession.

23 September 2010

Finger Painting The world

Its kinda like finger painting you know: You take a powerful emotion, place it on the paper in front of you, and poke it with your pencil. If it takes a little while to get going that's ok. Just don't give up on it yet.

Sometimes it will spill out a colour, sometimes a smell, sometimes a sound. Perhaps it will breath out memories of another time. Sometimes it produces rhythm, sometimes it produces rhyme. It can trickle down with imagery as thick and ripe as honey. It might even expel an absolutely extra-ordinarily amazing hyperbole.

Once you have coated your page with its inspiration, take your pencil and paint some words onto the paper underneath. When you feel that that it is done, It begins to bubble and froth. Until it rises as a cloud of condensation into the upper atmosphere leaving your creation behind. The cloud cools down again, and in the right conditions when it rains, the collective inspiration of the world produces a rainbow on the horizon. Inspiration pours down again on all those who see it and the cycle begins again.

Some people use paper and pencil. Some people use a shovel and dirt. Some people use a hammer and wrench. Some people use numbers and math... And sometimes... sometimes we all look up to see the beauty of the world around us what and at what others have created. Inspirations and ideas to produce great things are all around us.

What can you create? Can you create a better future? Maybe you already are.

12 September 2010

Maybe she will read this

Maybe she will read this. And maybe she wont.

Perhaps if she does, her smile will light up the sky like the moon. Maybe she is reading it now, her glistening hair pouring lightly across her shoulders with the northern lights in her eyes. Perhaps she will laugh and the stars will shine brighter.

Just maybe.

08 September 2010

Keeper of the Universe

Dear diary, (223rd entry January 6th 2009)

I'm having trouble remembering when it started now. It was almost like a dream. As if I was leaning too far over the edge of reality. I felt that sickening lurch in my stomach as I lost balance and fell over the edge. It happened slowly. Like a car coming to a slow stop at the lights, that final jerk as the brakes catch tight.

I was with Curt and Linda walking home from the mall. She was explaining to him the finer points of what she was calling "manners" in a loud sarcastic voice. Curt's frown looked one part ashamed and two parts defensive. He would never give up without an argument though. He was very stubborn about his xbox habits.

I remember felt a bit left out of the conversation so I walked a short way in front. Curt had begun his well rehearsed explanation about how his 'xbox time' was a time when he was not to be disturbed.

I didn't notice the silence, but the sound faded so gradually. When I got to the end of the path I hesitated. There was complete silence. The no sound of cars in the distance, no flutter of the wind in my ears, no gentle sway of the trees... I turned and saw Curt and Linda way behind... frozen, as if caught in a photograph.

Time stopped. I don't understand why I didn't stop too. It felt like leaving behind your shadow. Like Peter Pan. Leaving the world behind like Peter Pan's shadow.

Ironic, is it not? That I should be caught in a single moment growing ever older, While Peter Pan is without aging. Both having left our shadows behind.

Dear diary, (224th entry January 6th 2009)

It has been some time since my last entry.......

05 September 2010

Boots. Sword. Cat.

Pictures speak a thousand words, but three words can speak a thousand pictures.

It was clear that the structure of her story was beginning to form. He sat beside her and watched the satisfied smile dancing on her face. It was a fantastically sunny day. Such was the gentle warmth of the breeze that he felt poetic enough to think of it as a 'majestic' day. At this time of the morning, the sun was yet to breathe warmth into the smooth cobblestone stair on which they sat. The smell of bread was still fresh as it drifted lazily across the road from the bakery.

Like an artist with a paintbrush, she preferred to write with a pen rather than type with a keyboard. The sharp rolling sound of her ball point was punctuated by short pauses; he had come to think of them as her creativity changing gear to maneuver the curves in her plot. She was a master of the art and he enjoyed watching her sometimes.

She would spin remarkable fantasies from ink and paper with the casual ease with which you might tie your shoelace. The paper overflowed and drooped at the edges as the weight of the unfolding tale flowed like syrup onto its surface. Mystery would bubble, tragedy would swirl, romance would ripple and disaster would splash over the edge of the paper.

All the publishers would beg and plead and bargain with her to have the privilege of delivering her book to the world. Thousands of readers would line up to collect her latest book and read it from beginning to end without pause. Sometimes they would smile, other times a tear would run down their cheeks and sometimes they would gasp out loud. She received bags of fan mail every time she released a book... and occasionally she would reply to one or two. But her idea for her next book would spawn in the midst of her last and she spent all of her time writing.


Laxative. Elephant. Zookeeper.

23 August 2010

The day after the day before yesterday

For Emily
(because she asked for a story)

well, it all started last week when Fred invented a time machine. Or at least I think it was last week it got a bit hard to keep track for a while there.

He had invited me over for a drink but he really wanted to show off his newest version. Most of the others had exploded quite spectacularly. You could normally here him mumble something about the unstable flux vortex while your ears are still ringing.

This time I had decided to take a big pair of earplugs along as a bit of a friendly joke. When I arrived he greeted me excitedly at the door as he opened two beers. I almost laughed at his exited grin. He hadn't even noticed the ear muffs around my neck. He wasn't much of a drinker and this was clearly a celebration. But the faint flicker of curiosity didn't last long. I was quite sure he wouldn't have tested it yet.

Fred liked a bit of a show. He walked me through his house to his living room... a detour through the garage was necessary he said because of the large empty area in the kitchen. I guessed he meant he had it sterilized for working on sensitive equipment or something.

Once he got me to the living room, he asked me to wait there, and with a grin, turned back to the front door through the garage. It was just the blink of an eye later and he had swaggered in on the opposite side of the living room with his beer sloshing in his hands.

"Right!" he said "Shall we get started!"

"That was quick! I said letting the surprise show on my face. I thought it was a time machine you invented not a teleporter!"

He laughed "Of course of course! Here it is!"

With a flourish, he whipped a towel from something which had been standing behind the sofa. It looked somewhat like a vacuum cleaner turned inside out collided with gramophone at high speed. It was as if it was bleeding thing coloured wire out of every part of its casing.

"Behold the great time machine!" he proclaimed enthusiastically

"It's way smaller than your older models Fred, this one got a smaller explosive charge in it eh?" I laughed.

Technology always gets smaller as it progresses." he informed me with an imperious tone. "I just need to plug it in, I'll be right back" he said as he disappeared around the corner with the power lead.

A short second later he reappeared abruptly from the doorway to the garage again as if he had run around the outside of the house at full tilt.

"Crikey Fred!" I exclaimed. "Slow down or you will hurt yourself, or even spill your beer"

"What do you mean?" he asked looking puzzled.

"You were just there a second ago... how did you get around there so fast?"

"What are you on about? I just went back to the front door... forgot to pull it closed"

"Oh-Kayy... so are you going to show me how this time machine works then?"

A voice came from the other side of the room. "Yes yes I've just finished plugging it in hold on" and Fred appeared on the other side of the room.

My mouth fell open as I looked from one Fred to the other, both of them now grinning.

Before I could get my mouth working... the Fred who went to plug the machine in flipped a switch on the side.

"Turns out," said Fred "that if you travel in time there are a few... unexpected anomalies. Meet 'me' from 5, 6, 7 and 8 minutes in the past..."

And three more Fred's stepped into the room. All of them with insane smiles on their faces now.

"Holy cow!" I stammered, "You made it work?"

"Haha yes! yes! yes!" they all chanted and the multiple Freds seemed to find this hilarious.

"Right! said the first Fred... lets get him!"

All of the Freds ran towards me and tackled me to the floor. They picked me up and started dragging me out the door.

"Fred! what are you doing! whats going on!"

"Hahaha" laughed one of the Freds! I told you! I told you that I would get this working!" The others chanted after "I told you! I told you!"

Before I could see what was happening-- water! lots of cold water! they had thrown me in the pool. As I surfaced all the Freds stood around laughing.

"Far out!" I spluttered as I spat the pool water out "Oh-Kay... you were right, I was wrong! Haha good one Fred!"

The first Fred, presumably, pulled me out of the pool and as I congratulated him on the the worlds first time travel prank, one at a time the other Fred's went indoors and hit a button on the machine and disappeared.

Fred told me later that he had spent all day planning that one. It had taken all of his duplicates five minutes to throw me in the pool, but it had taken Fred a fun filled 35 minutes of his life to throw me in the pool again and again from each duplicate Freds point of view.

"So," I said... "How about a real demonstration......."

The end..?

16 August 2010

Formaldehyde and Seaweed

Like the stench of a preserved animal in a jar, you can smell not only your death but the morbid fate which awaits thereafter. The sharp rocky walls of the passage glisten pitch black as the rain from above oozes down. The echos of the slow dripping deepen the shadows as the falling drops glisten in the dying torchlight. Some way down the passage the growling of the distant ocean lurks in waiting. The passage behind had not led you anywhere but a dead end. Take your steps with care now, as the gritty sand around your toes gives way to smooth-worn rock beneath them. The water is filled with debris... all the dead things were washed here by the violent ocean to rot in the entrance to this cave. Just as you were.

But you are not dead yet, and far from finished trying.

15 June 2010

The poem I once wrote about purple

Purple's a color with no rhyming word,
Oh what a shame for this rhythmless turd,
For no one I know to this day has heard,
A rhyme with a line that ends with purple.

A good friend of purple is orange it's said,
For orange and purple stand in the same stead;
And just as with purple nobody has read,
A poem that ends with the word orange.

And now for something compleatly different

What does it look like if you stand on the inside of a spherical mirror?

Perhaps one of the most asked questions that people have is; "Whats so funny about a chicken crossing a road?". The metaphysical argument transcends explanation. The only remaining discussion can be based on "why isn't it funny?". Which is of course, in it's self, laughable.

I had two separate dreams about eating McDonalds this week. I love it when my dreams and aspirations are so deeply and repeatedly satisfied for $4.50 a time. Oh yes. In every other dirty meaning as well. And your mom.

I designed a kit that converts a pig into a remote control helicopter. Press crtl+alt+delete to Pre-order now!

If you feed seagulls bi-carb they explode-- Its true.

Wait... there's one more...

but i lost it...

Maybe if you stay long enough it will turn up?

It was ever so good...

oh well...

07 June 2010

Winding path

I take you down a winding path,
Of bright-lit buildings 'neath night sky,
Where celebrations cast their joy,
To show you things you'd never spy.

The velvet sky that glitters,
As I lie back in the canoe,
One hand with chips and fritters,
The other arm for you.

A gust of cool, a gush of warm,
The flutter of the ropes and basket,
Beneath the curvey crimson bulge,
We sway above the world.

With wings of steel and lungs of fire,
We plunge towards the clouds,
And as butterflies take flight within,
We rise toward the ground.

... Run out of rhyme juice ...

28 May 2010

Infinity subtract infinity = ??

Infinity has a strange effect on statistics. No matter how unlikely something is, given infinite chances to happen, it will happen. Nothing is infinite though right?

Lets for a moment consider the universe to be infinite. We don't know it isn't.

That means, that since the beginning of the universe, in a world identical to this one, a person exactly like me has written this same blog at least once before. And in fact, someone identical to you read this same blog once before.

At another time in another place, there must have been a world like this one with just one thing different. Perhaps your identical twin on that planet has two extra freckles on their neck. Or perhaps "two minute noodles" were actually branded "3 minute noodles". (as they should be in this world)

In fact, there must have been an occasion, where two worlds exactly the same developed within traveling distance of each other. The inhabitants from one world must have landed on the other and a planet and discovered their twin counterparts. That must have been awkward. Anyone ever checked on the other side of the sun for a planet just like earth orbiting in the same path? And if they found anything... would they tell us or keep it a secret?

23 May 2010

Something we all forget

Did you ever feel like reality was slipping past you while you were stuck in your own little world? Like the fabric of time was some vast sheet of silky cloth being dragged over the top of you? You can feel the silky brush of it against your cheek, but you just cant grip it between your fingers.

It commonly manifests in such feelings as... oh no, I'm behind with my homework again... or... exams are soon and I don't have enough time to study properly... Or maybe you took a look at your life and asked yourself why its not as good as you feel it should be. I think everyone does this sometimes.

I was driving in the car on Thursday and I re-discovered something rather life changing. Sometimes it can be difficult to remember it when things are tough. It's something that we all used to know. Something we really understood as children.

You do not need a reason to be happy.

You don't. Doesn't that sound good? I want you to do something with me. For the rest of the time that you are reading this, smile. Its easy, just like this:

Smile when you do the dishes. Smile when you are stuck in traffic. Smile when you are angry and when you are sad. If life is going to be so difficult, then it is trying to take itself too seriously. Smile at it until you feel stupid about feeling bad. You don't even have to think about anything special. It doesn't take any effort at all.

And even if you changed nothing about your life while smiling at this paragraph, you proabably feel a bit better.


12 May 2010

Like Rain

The sun fell like rain through the trees, softly dribbling over her smooth skin to the grass. It gathered in rippling puddles below the golden leaves in the breeze. The gentle sound of a thousand papery voices called from the branches above.

He lay on his side and looked at her with a mysterious smile. He watched closely as her cheeks and brows made a puzzled smile... that beautiful smile.

"What?" She asked laughing playfully.

He continued smiling at her.

"What?" she asked again laughing. Her smile filled her whole face as she leaned forward to push him on the shoulder. "Tell me!"

He stared up at the broad branches of the tree.

"Oh... nothing." He took a deep breath. "I just had one of those moments," he laughed as he rolled over to her

"The kind that you never forget"

08 May 2010

To sail over the edge of the world.

At this point, the ship was moving so fast that even the gulls could not keep up. The sails flutter violently behind the mast and in the distance the coastline slips away as if the gigantic blue expanse of the sky was squashing it into the sea.

the reader feels uneasy and grips the railing with both hands.

With a sharp lurch as if hitting a large wave on the flat water, the ship separates from the water.

Peering over the edge into the clear green water, rapidly falling away, the reader can see the hull-sails. Encrusted with barnacles and resembling large whale fins, they unfold into full span. Like gigantic wings they spread out to catch the rising currents of magic over the sea.

As the lazy green waves become ripples, the islands in the distance reappear in the misty blue distance, then again fall back over the horizon. The clouds turn from cotton wool to cold wet smoke then back again. The green ocean below fades to blue and the blue above fades to black.

The stars! They shine as the reader has not seen them before. As a blind man with newly restored vision, the reader stares in wonder.

this is where we have traveled, so far from our home. To sails over the edge of the world.

The darkness is vast and empty and harsh and cold and the reader can feel its expanse. Had to be here to realize it. The journey was not to see this nothingness...

As the ship sails ever higher, the reader turns to look at the blue globe below. "We needed to come all the way out here to see what we could not see beneath our own feet. Our home. All of us. Our home."

next post will be a comprehensive 10 step guide to fabricating spelling and grammar mistakes into practical building materials reliable enough to construct household furniture.

01 May 2010

Paint the world a shade of red

Paint the world a shade of red
The color that from veins is bled
And make the air a violent heat
So hot it makes the seas retreat

And scream a scream that shakes the ground
A thunderous and mournful sound
And beat your fists against the walls
Until the rising fury falls

30 April 2010

Eleven secret herbs and spices.

First off, I would like to address the controversy that has been circulating among my adoring followers: What you are in fact reading is a 'blarg'.

I will address any further questions by way of a short reading from The Blargonicals:

Let there be LIGHT
And the blargoverse was lit.

[from The Blargonicles 1:1]

So I've got this new insane place called a blarg... or blahg... or some would mistake if for a 'blog'. It's basically a place where i can write insane things and they will seem normal. This is because A) this blarg is insane, and B) Because hardly anyone reads it. Context is everything. (You have to know this if you are a squirrel, they talk about nuts all the time)

In other news, the secret to happiness was recently discovered by a team of scientists in Switzerland. Their research involved extensive testing in the fields good food, regular physical activity, isolation from difficult tasks, alcohol and the company of the opposite sex. The research institution funding the project has been unavailable as yet to elaborate on any findings.

In an interview with one of the research team, Mr Gustav made the following comment "It is like 11 secret herbs and spices... you can make it yourself, but if it is not secret, it is not the same". Without further explanation and after removing his left shoe, Mr Gustav left the interview.

More on this report as it becomes avaliable.

Tune in again this time tomorrow morning for the latest update on pandas and such. Goodnight!

25 April 2010

Let's Begin...

SO... inno



Let's Begin...

Out there, in the wide open universe there is a particular star. A star not unlike our own. It's not anywhere in this galaxy, or the next, or the one after that. In fact its so far away that nothing no matter how fast it could travel could reach it given even a sizable portion of 'forever'. So far away in fact ,that you could almost say that its not part of the same reality we are in now. Almost.

There is a gas giant orbiting this star. The giant its self is entirely unremarkable; very big, very round, and very blue. As the reader begins to get bored, by the unremarkable planet, their attention is drawn to a small moon just beside it. A dark shape just barely visible in the glare from the star in the background.

As the reader is most eloquently narrated towards the surface of the moon it becomes clear that something must be quite remarkable about it. After admiring a final profound description of the barren alien landscape the reader arrives in a small crater about the size of the average backyard swimming pool.

At the bottom of the crater in the very center is a rock. A perfectly round rock. Evidently the cause of the small crater. As the reader peers over at the curious object, they find on the very top of the sphere a small inscription on a polished square of metal:

"So. In no particular order, let's begin."

Why it was written in English is anyone's guess.