Love On Trial

Chilly

The smile in the dark Of the potential dangers the safe shores framed by your beacon glow the sun gilded sheen And your rhythm  chimed like the heartbeat of stones along that country walk The blue of the sky softening to something chilly above us . Some narratives I would never cling to, ghost stories in the teeth of fiction The touch of a hand in that false night grants an audience to such things. Shoo away the onset of heavy dusk til the song of morning sounds.

An Illuminating Encounter

Sam was sick of waiting. The woman on the phone said the Electrician could arrive at any time on the Monday between the hours of 9am and 5pm. That was his whole day gone. He had to book some time off work, which hurt him more in principle than anything. He couldn't have gone in any way, not with this hanging over him. He felt very unfulfilled at his job and it was the one place his ideas were never heard or nurtured. So Sam killed some time, reading, watching TV but in all his pursuits he was distracted. Afraid he would lose it, if some part of his mind wasn't constantly dwelling on it. At 1.43, there was a knock on his door. Cursing the low door ways of his house he carefully ducked as he walked through them into the hallway. "Hello Sir, "came a cheery voice from the Electrician as he entered the house. "I'd ask what's the problem...but I have eyes. I can see it quite clearly!" Sam didn't need to point it out. Over his head, a few feet up, hung a light bulb floating in the air but totally dead and dark, as if someone had turned it off. "I've had this all weekend. Couldn't leave the house and there was no-one on call til Monday, "Sam fumed, leading the Electrician into his kitchen. They both sat at the table. "Thanks for coming out though." The Electrician replied. "Thank you for being here! You have no idea how often I go out to someones house and there's no-one to let me in." "So like a false alarm?" "Oh yeah, I have to remove false alarms from people psyches all the time!" Sam poured a drink for his guest. "Alright Buddy," the Electrician bellowed, "Talk me through it." "Ok, last Friday night, I came up with this ridiculously good idea. We're talking a game changer. Well maybe. I'm a sort of a part time inventor and well I was really excited but then...well this happened. The light bulb appeared over my head but it was switched off. Is this common?" "Sure, happens all the time. You see people are...y'know...tentative with ideas. On like a subconscious level. They worry it mightn't be thought out enough, or sometimes folk are afraid that their idea has been done before. It all depends on how you're wired man." Sam was anxious. "I'm afraid to take a shower! I don't want to get electrocuted!" The Electrician looked in his bag. Rifling through it, it was obvious he was trying to find some thing. He removed various forms of pliers, voltage indicators and insulation. Sam's eyes widened at each new tool that was laid on the table. It looked like it was going to be a physically taxing job. Finally the tradesman found what he was looking for. "There she is, at fucking last." He placed a messy notebook on the table along with a chewed on pen. Noticing Sam taking in all the hardware he laughed. "Oh no. No! This isn't for your job Lad. My next job is a husband and wife. Their relationship needs a little bit of a spark after all these years! For you ,all I need is a notebook." Sam was unsure about this. "For real?" The Electrician began to put away the miscellaneous equipment before testing that the pen could write. He looked up at the poorly illuminated Sam. "Basically we have got to work through your idea a bit more. Flesh it out. And boom, let there be light!" Sam shifted nervously in his chair. "Um...well....I'm not so sure about going through my idea..." "Jesus man, I'm not going to steal your idea. I'm happy with my lot in life and plus I've been privy to far more lucrative jobs than this. I think I'll beat temptation here." For the next hour Sam outlined his great idea. The Electrician was taking notes. As a seasoned worker, he asked the questions that needed to be discussed to ensure the ideas viability. Despite his initial hesitation Sam enjoyed the process and even indulged in a little give and take about the concept. 

Success! The light bulb over his head flickered to life and while it still remained that bit dim, it was nonetheless a nice soft light. "Ha, I wouldn't read by it, "The Electrician joked. "But as ideas go, it gets my volt!" Sam waved off the helpful Electrician, telling him he would have to be credited, should the plan come to fruition. "I'll just take the bill kid. It's my job!" Getting back into his van, he was dismayed to learn it would not start. "Fucks sake," he exhaled. "This is a state of the art vehicle here. It's meant to run on fumes!" A few more tries of the ignition proved fruitless. He took out his mobile and made a call. He was informed that it might take an hour or two for what he asked to be done. "Great, I'll just have to sit here then." He sank back into the drivers seat. "And wait for that damn Fumigator."

214- An Azealia Banks Parody

In Cork City, I get the 214 Bus. It is notoriously late and the drivers are very often rude. Combining that with an Azealia Banks parody I wrote ages ago. Hey, you can't be the driver I'm ready to pay, but you put the price up And the timetable you just slice up you can see I've been stuck here reading the paper And that curb careless driving, you're gonna scrape her Don't want to be the customer a-bitchin' We got to resolve this sit-uation. this bus should be main streetin' I'm running late for that fucking meeting But my point of view you don't give a look in Maybe a taxi, i should be be booking Guess that cunt shouldn't be drivin' that bus should be arriving that bus should be arriving that bus should be arriving waiting on the 214 On the sarsfield road forevermore fucking bus route never gonna make it in, that's the fucking truth But what the fuck you gonna do I mean the bus service isn't just for little old you But the rude staff in bus aras couldn't even make it to the fucking chorus every stop on the way in I feel like i need to be sayin push the button to beep let the driver know in case He's falling asleep that's my stop yo, just chill bro if i need some time to work my change don't be giving a wigga a look that strange coins are hard to sift thru don't need no conductor giving short shrift too I'm going to complain you cunt I'm going to complain you cunt I'm going to complain you cunt Replay O, Replay O I heard Azelia was a one hit wonder (wonder) Tell em you heard where she ended up Say I'm parodying but I aint complaining about her The label will drop you, drop you, soon the bus will never be on time, time, time, time What you gone do when the bus isn't here? When that fails to appear Bitch at the end of the phone line to a peer this never on time, time What you gone do when you're running late who are you gonna berate (berate) this shit is whine, whine,  Bitch Im waiting on the 214 it's as unreliable as urban folklore for fuckin' sure Patrick's street is off this bus tour Got my ipod on shuffle, it lands on the mighty Cure Fuck you gonna do what's your mp3 player like what music you into? see a bus on a wider view what does the number on that look like to you? if it's 216, I'm going to blow a fuse getting no kicks out of this bus-terfuge if it's 219, I'm going to bust a cap into the bus drivers ticket machine trap You think I give a crap im the fly in this fucking ointment so i'm late for another appointment Now i don't have the correct amount, no struggling with shrapnel and im running out of time to count though It's going to cause, a fuss I'm a ruin you bus What you going to do when the bus appear When it finally gets its shit into gear This shit aint worth a dime, dime What you going to do when the bus stop clears an answers to our prayers this shit's been whine, whine.

Tweeting Action Films With Respect

I don't understand Twitter.  Well I understand how it works and the purpose it serves but I guess I find it hard to utilize it or get too swept up in it.  Thinking about it as a new phenomenon, here are a few classic Action film characters if they had been tweeting about their famous adventures. Die Hard- John McClane  @yippeekiyayroyrogers

You could say I had a pretty "Hans on" weekend. My wife took me back but only after some serious bloodletting on both our parts. #sockittomeplaza Terminator- Sarah Connor @skynetsucks Met a great man but unlike my usual type, the no hopers who have no future, this guy was the only hope from the future. Why are the all the good ones from an alternate timeline?  FML. #judgementdaze The Matrix- Neo @theone55 Stressful few days. Had a lot of trouble with my Agent. Face Off- Sean Archer @wooingdoves I'm glad I have my original face back..but man Castor Troy had some good cheekbones.  Predator- Major Alan Schaefer (Arnie) @notpredator2

Never going back into the jungle again. The mosquitoes are murder. Met an...out of towner. We had words. #wtfwasthatthing?

Kill Bill- The Bride @bridalpower I know, I know. Volume 2 kind of sucked. And Bill was totally wrong about Superman #buddandellesdeathsaresodisappointing Aliens- Ripley @ripleybelieveitornot @alienqueen4realz  @Newt says hi! I hope there's no hard feelings about that whole blasting you into space thing. #INSPACENOONECANHEARYOUTWEET

Well, for Starters...

Amy and Mark had several reservations as they entered the establishment. A tray of champagne glasses bubbling over with resentment glided by them as they were approached by a well dressed man. "We have smoking or non-smoking seething. Which would you prefer?" Mark looked at Amy. "Well her constant smoking is a factor so put us there in smoking. We wanna make a real meal of this." The well dressed man smugly added. "That's our job, Sir. Welcome to Bickerings, known throughout the country for it's fine quizz-ine." "We could have just had this out at home, Mark," Amy sternly said. The couple were being led to their table.  "If we're going to have a proper argument we might as well do it in a five star row-staurant which is what Bickerings is, "Mark retorted. "Let's just try and have some fun here." Amy sighed as she pulled up her seat. Looking around she noticed a number of sobbing couples and a few others completely in silence. "Spend all this money to just sit in silence. That's a good thing?!" Mark didn't reply as he was already perusing the menu.  Amy picked up hers and began to scan it. "Hmm...infidelity is never rare...that's sort of funny..." Mark saw a chance for first blood. "But it can be well done!" Amy glared at him.  "I'm not sure I have the right appetite tonight. Destruction doesn't look all that appealing," Mark was wondering aloud, not really addressing his dinner date. "I'm going to have the salad," Amy flatly said. "I hear they use some of the finest olive vitriol around for it." A waitress walked over to them. "Hi,  my name is Tiffany, Tiff for short. I'll be waiting on you this evening. If you'd care to look at our specials. We have fresh recriminations, chicken bones of contention and of course our famed Fracas bar which is located to my left or if you wish to argue with me, to your right." Mark addressed her. "I know revenge and all that serving cold stuff, but I'd rather it hot. Any suggestions?" "Well, we could bring it out when your conversation is getting more heated or we could have the meat roasted on a spat!" "Hmmm...I don't know," Mark mulled. "I do have a real beef with this woman but I don't want it overdone. Ro-Misery cooking doesn't do it for me. I'll stick with plain revenge. Straight up." Tiff smiled and handed another menu. "The resign list?" Mark took it while Tiff looked at Amy. "Salad was it?" "Yes, with some rude barbs." Tiff corrected her, "Do you mean Rhubarb?" Amy nodded. "Just a pint of Bitter for me then." "And a drink for you Miss?." "Faultless to a tea, thank you." Their first (dis)course were some insults they skewered each other with. Amy was unhappy with the belittle portions but didn't make any more of a scene than the two were already making.  Their main coarse was intense. Mark had to send back his first piece of revenge as it was raw. He settled with the second piece even if it was a little undercooked. Tapping a nearby table he asked. "We got some wounds here, but no salt. Could we trouble you for some of yours?" Over the meal a lot was aired but this was no mere food fight. This was Dinner breaks all. The sort of argument that chews up a couple and then spits them out. They scoffed at one another before they scoffed down some more food.  During a break in the hostilities and as a palate cleanser they decided to engage in perfectly civil chat. Mark laughed."I've heard such good things about this place. It's way nicer that that old dump we'd go for a little bite, I mean fight. What was that placed called?" "Oh yeah Quarrels. I don't know, it had a nice in your face quality. The Anger-biance there was second to none." It wasn't long, though it felt like an eternity like most arguments do, before they had im-gibed enough drink and devoured enough food for thought and were onto their just desserts.  Having had their fill of each other they got up to leave Bickerings and as they were making their way out, Mark noted, "It's a bit steep. But we've had too many disagreements tonight. We won't dispute the bill." Amy replied, "I hear they like when people do that though!" As they neared the door they came across the well dressed man once again. It was clear he was the Haître d' of the place.  "Finest fight we have ever had! Thank you! My compliments and complaints to your staff." The Haître d' just sneered.  "Well, what else would you expect from a 5 Star location such as Bickerings? We're hardly Fast Feud!"

Half Past Danger, Long Past time

Half Past Danger Issue #1 - Review by Emmet O'Brien Torn from every cliffhanger comic strip, blessed with the same breathless energy as a matinee serial and full of dynamic energy, Stephen Mooney's Half Past Danger is an absolute delight and easily one of the most fun comics being put out at the moment. It's the province of pulp to throw element after element at you and for any thrill seeking heart a comic that packs in retro hi-jinx, femme fatales and "War is (Prehistoric) Hell" asides will charm a particular sort of reader. Comics can be so dour and psychological these days, deconstructing but not celebrating. Now I must admit, my own particular sensibilities run alongside this tonal tornado as a kid weaned on, Indiana Jones, Tintin, The Phantom, Ka-Zar, Doc Savage and their ilk and despite a resolutely Irish hero in HPD's Tommy Flynn the DNA is easy to isolate as being of a very American flavoured action story. It's the Irish aspect that adds a little extra spice to this brew of disparate action tropes. The story of an Army Squad coming face to face with dinosaurs while on patrol on an isolated Japanese Island, the book is fast paced and dangerous, a tricky thing to establish legitimate peril  while having a tongue very much in its cheek but it succeeds with roguish aplomb. If anything almost too much happens, Flynn finds himself traumatised after the Jurassic jaunt and is drowning his sorrows in New York when he is approached by two mysterious British military types, one being a Steve Rogers-esque bruiser while the other is an alluring dame. Pitched at a hyper real level with Mooney's art at its current apex (we can only imagine the more settled he becomes in this world, the even more vibrant the art will become) this is the sort of comic I have been waiting for, for a very long time. Beautifully punched up with Jordie Bellaire's superlative colouring skills, further adding a timeless old world sheen, one can get lost in the tones and textures of the mad-cap world Flynn has to navigate through. With just enough intrigue to hook but not overwhelm and spectacle aplenty, this is derring-do, daringly done right. Keep up to date with Half Past Danger and the talented Stephen Mooney through his site. http://www.halfpastdanger.com/

Independent Artist (Pt.1)

Beyonce fever seems to have gripped the world with her new album coming out of nowhere. So I wrote this to celebrate such an "Independent Woman" (Pt.1) "The marriage to Jay- Z, she got it better solo career than Kelly, she got it The booty she's shaking, she got it, cause she depends on royalties Another platinum release that's hot she'll record it Another "featuring" guest spot She'll work it The album she made is strong She'll drop it 17 videos for each song You can't stop it I depend on the original melody (it's a good melody) All the producers who have been contracted Throw your tracks at me! All the directors who have been contacted Throw your plans at me! All the survivors who are ticket holders Throw your cash at me! All the internet trolls who can't touch the Knowles, Throw your trash at me! Girl, I don't know how you hit the notes like that..."

Cat-ch 22 - A Poem about Cats and the Internet

  I was thinking about cats, the domestic pet How much space is devoted to these dolls through their odd relationship with the Internet And how they've come to have the prefix, "lol"s

Every Tom, Quick and Furry Every Tab Key leading to a Tabby The whole wide web is in such a hurry We even had a cat known for just being crabby Over them the whole world has flipped Even when kind or when vicious I guess it can be traced back to Ancient Egypt. All the way back to the black cat smugly superstitious. The timeline of the felined The whole kitten and kaboodle From the feral to the sterile kind (Have you ever heard Cat sex? it's brutal) Their retractable claws giving me practical pause and leaving marks on my arms And of their rational cause in stalking distractible jackdaws I could spin you many yarns. I wonder of their nine lives Which one really counts? Purring and scurrying Waiting for the moment to pounce After the climbing of trees, and scaling some fences They'd catch a scent in the breeze Just one of their heightened senses. Landing on their feet however one falls Grooming themselves and their young No wonder they pick up hairballs with a sandpaper like tongue They slink through the night with unique vertebrae Only when they are gone do mice come out to play But the Queens are Glaring at their prey This is the same all over from Housecat to stray. So when I see my thousandth cat picture, I think of songs, cartoons and ancient scripture And it seems no suprise their stance in pop culture Falling for something so adorable is human nature So felis catus would love to be seen as Royal But Dogs should make a big on-line come back Cause the audience would be canine-like , so loyal To challenge this current monopoly of Cat Writers note: I've written plenty of poems about forbidden love. This one is for-kitten love.

The Smoking Pun

Conversation was dead. His body was slumped over his chair when the the lights came back on. Silence was in his element, grinning but despite him enjoying the situation, it wasn't clear if he was the murderer. The last thing anyone remembered before the black out was a heated conversation about a burning issue, that of smoking. Cigar had piped in with his view while Pipe tried to get the last word. He was close but no Cigar. As master of ceremonies Conversation had been trying to be fair to all parties. He kept the language clean since Nico was still a tine-ager but when it came to the issue of Cigarettes all the relevant parties were lacking the proper social filters. "Smoking kills," Theory proclaimed,"And there lies the proof!" "Any idea who the murderer could be?" Query was concerned. She had been asking a lot of questions lately and nobody liked that very much. Theory flailed around the room while pontificating loudly. "What we need to do is find out the final quip before Conversation died. We track down that sense of humour and we find the culprit!" Everyone stayed quiet. The scene had been a mess of people shouting their views and trying to come across as more important than they were by blowing smoke.  "We never should have invited that man Tobacco and his 'Lobbyists' to this get together," Count Finite, the Lord of the Manor sighed, speaking to his trophy girlfriend, a model by the name of Tally Marks. "I believe Tobacco is involved in organised crime!" Tally was all set with her rich paramour but couldn't resist some idle gossip. "Well honey, I've spoken to Tobaccos wife InHayley and she seemed very passive in general, even the fact that she heard second hand about this party tells you something. I'm not so sure she knows what her husband is up to. Total smokescreen." Theory was concerned about his ability to solve this crime. He was just a layman, a working Theory, not a definite Explanation. He had failed those exams, because he could find any references or cite himself. "Everyone had a reason to kill Conversation, the guy never shut up," he wondered aloud. "Slip of the Tongue had tried to slip out earlier but that was just cause she was having an affair and was afraid she'd incriminate herself. Why she ever left Schtum is beyond me but I guess she didn't like being a kept woman." Suddenly the lights went out again and Theory was stabbed. "That's one theory eliminated," came a chilling voice from the darkness. His body dropped to the floor but this time the killer had been less careful. His first smoking pun that had killed the conversation had been said in a mysterious tone. The exact line was "That's just how Mr. Tobacco rolls..." followed by Conversations final gasp. No-one could figure out the identity or even the gender of the voice. But happy with his quip about Theory, the murderer had let a slightly grand accent come through and a tone which was distinctly snooty. As the lights came back up, the whole crowd turned to the same person. It was such a cliche, they were annoyed with themselves that they hadn't thought of it already. Who was always being picked on by Conversation when he was making jokes? Who had, due to his past been led ashtray and had definite loyalties to Tobacco and Smoking in general? It was so obvious, the evidence could match nobody else. The Butt-ler had done it.

2 + 2 = 5 stars! Radiohead on TV!

New to the Spotify Channel  While on tour with his band mates Thom Yorke is in a tour bus crash. Fortunately an Airbag saves his life but his bones are still seriously inured. Using the newest advanced technology a mysterious organisation known as the Karma Police rebuild him with bionic technology. Is he the new Six Million dollar man or just dollars and cents gone to waste? Lucky to be alive and assigned a plucky female partner, the earnest Ms. Honey Pablo, Thom uses his new senses to solve crimes while touring the world. Enhanced abilities, such as climbing up walls, innumerable calculations in his scatterbrain and with a new iron lung the melancholic singer fights for what is right and Just.  This is: NEW YORKE, NEW YORKE Created by Donald P. Bellisario                    & Glen. A. Larson While generally fitter and happier this new agent codenamed, the King of Limbs, must face a plethora of new threats, bodysnatchers, the mysterious spy (over)dubbed the Creep and a criminal kingpin known only as Mr. Magpie. Has Thom become a super enhanced  human or is he just a Paranoid Android in a shaky House of Cards? "Bullet Proof I wish I was."  HE IS NOW! Episode 1: "Everything in its right place" Newly re-built and operating at pitch perfect levels Thom's first case involves protecting a child prodigy known only as Kid A from the clutches of assassin The Eraser. Episode 2: "Hail to the Thief" A case involving corporate espionage as an Electioneering process goes awry for a high up political leader plagued by a campaign informant. Thom and Ms. Honey resolve to not let down their newest client. Episode 3: "How to Disappear Completely" People are going missing at Radiohead concerts and Thom is optimistic he can solve the case. Will he need to call on his OK Computer hacker friend Idio-Tech to help him out? Episode 4: "Life in a Glasshouse" Abducted by a foreign government, Thom is forced into gladiatorial contests against Hunting Bears to test his feral abilities. (Part 1) Episode 5: "You and Whose Army?" Concluding part. Thom is liberated by army forces and must discuss his time in Limbo with a new psychiatrist a Ms. Sarah Treefingers. (Special guest star Bjork) Episode 6: " Fake Plastic Trees" The band find themselves in a mysteriously perfect town while promoting their newest album. What dark secrets are concealed in this town when the band go to sleep?  Episode 7: " We Suck Young Blood" A Halloween Special as Thom faces an industrious vampire cult who are mass-producing victims in a warehouse packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box. Episode 8: "Amnesiac" Following an Amp explosion Thom loses his memory and joins Muse as a backing musician. Can the band convince him that anyone can play guitar for Muse and that he certainly doesn't belong there there?

Episode 9: "Jigsaw Falling into Place" The identity of the Mysterious Mr. Magpie is revealed at last as...Phil Selway!? Yes Radioheads most underestimated member has his knives out and attacks our hero. Episode 10: "Blurring the Lines"  Part of Spotify Channel crossover week. The band tour with secret agent act Blur. An Al-barn storming action packed episode. Episode 11: "Where I end and you begin" Having long denied his feelings for Honey, Thom must find a way to serenade his beloved or be left high and dry when she settles down with her mystery fiance.  Episode 12: "Exit Music (for a tv series)" The season finale sees Ed O'Briens career hang in the balance as Thom and Phil have a bitter fight that culminates in a Punch Up at a wedding... Honeys wedding to Johnny Greenwood!! Will Thom stop whispering his feelings for her and tell her the truth before it's too late? "No Surprises this is a show that won't make you sulk, as pleasant as a (nice dream) but with enough bends in the plot to keep you guessing. True love waits and it was worth the wait in this case!"-  Tuning(in)fork (not affiliated with Pitchfork) Authors Note: This is a dedicated to Paula Larkin for her birthday! one of the biggest Radiohead Heads I know!