C’MON MR PELICAN

In pony tail and dungarees slung high, he exposed the shiniest pair of Cowboy boots the world had ever damn seen. With a 90 degree stance, he leaned over the fence of St James’s Park with the crumbs of a week old Hovis and cried:

Here, here, Mr Pelican. C’mon now. Come to Mamma.

To which the Pelican said:

I have a wheat allergy.

OPEN SOURCE FOOD

Not the virtual kind, but the flesh and blood (of a beetroot) kind. Now, I’m no gardener but if hedges and freeholders stood aside and we all took to tilling the fields, then walked away with what we need, maybe even grabbing a few handfuls for our busy or elderly neighbours, we could reduce the likes of Tesco and Sainsbury’s to anything but super. If you don’t get me, you might get: www.thebiglunch.com

KEROUAC INVENTED TWITTER (# 74,968)

Jack’s right foot is indelibly linked by some old school synapse to twitterers all over the world. As we type and digest without so much as a thought saying ‘hang on, you’re not wearing a collar’, the method writing technique he set out with Cassidy all those years ago is born again baby. Nothing is new. Everything is stolen from somewhere, but then again, getting caught is half the fun.

THE TITLE ENDING WITH THE (# 74,969)

What is it with The? Why does it need to stand at the front of so many queues? When did it ever stand at the back like every other word? The The had the right idea when they stripped it of its self importance and 2-way pronunciation and poured post punk ballads down its classist throat. Well, Matt Johnson, I’m with you. So much so, here’s an open source template for anyone out there to go ‘own’ as their definite article. Just replace (title) with a band, song, hotel, film, book, brand, street, country, religion, bodily part of your choice.

THE PLEASE AND THANK YOU HOUSE

Call it a threshold of manners. Call it an enema of doubt. Call it growing up. But once anyone stepped inside this home, they left their issues at the door with their shoes. It is said that the doormat soaked up more hatred than the top ten wars of all time.

FREE THE WORD – PEN & 26 (# 74,970)

As you read, I’m in tandem with a great writer and storyteller from Haiti called Georges Anglade. We exchange writings, words, observations in our native tongues of English and French respectively, never too sure what the other one is saying but somehow capturing the gist. It’s part of a world literature festival at venues around London’s Southbank, from 16-19 April 2009. Get down there if you can and listen to a language other than your own. You may pick up a great new thought somewhere in your gut.

http://www.internationalpen.org.uk/go/literary-events/free-the-word

If you feel something, log it and blog it on:

http://freetheblog.typepad.com/blog/

THE RAIN WROTE THIS (# 74,971)

andid d cck dc dwjjc cscijcw knfen cjn cn  mjc c vc j fk em dscj dfbn z jfjk f.

THE FAIL-IN

In support of all the teachers out there sick to death with SATS and league tables, stage a term-long protest against unsustainable examination pass rates and the inexorable pressure put upon schools. The Fail-In will have no expectations, or every expectation. It will not succeed in its cause but instead it will clarify the idiocy of education and its ‘all-time-high’ syndrome.

WORDS ARE ONLY CLOTHES FOR SOUNDS,

feelings and thoughts.

WRITING ALOUD (# 74,972)

Try it in a public place. Say, in a library. Or by text on a bus. Or your signature at an old-fashioned pin-free till. If they can perform a 24 hours Moby Dick readathon, with the right weather we can construct a 24 hour writeathon that nails the Nobel prize.

Next Page →