[ssf] b) & c) it's a jumble out there Re: uv :: v ) on kings and secret rings a) sovereignty

amadan mor adam at diamat.org.uk
Fri Jun 1 10:01:49 BST 2007


b) time
-------

      "there were two brothers
           who were kings
       named nyniaw and pebiaw

         one moonlight night
      nyniaw said to his brother ...

              '... see what an extensive field i posses'

   'where is it' -- asked pebiaw

              'there ... ' -- replied nyniaw
              '... the whole firmament'

   'well ...' -- said pebiaw

   '... as to that
    see how many sheep and cattle
    i have grazing in your field'

               'where are they' -- asked nyniaw

   'there ...' -- replied nyniaw

    '... the great host of stars
    each with golden brightness
    with the moon to shepherd them'

               'well ...' -- replied nyniaw

               '... they shall not graze
                in my field ... '

       ... and the two kings fought
         embroiling both kingdoms
            and their subjects
             in terrible wars
             so that they were
            nearly exterminated ...

              ... rhitta gawr
               king of wales
             attacked them both
         because they were obviously
                  both mad

             he conquered them
        and shaved off their beards ...

               ... but when
             the other 28 kings
                of prydain
       heard of this treacherous assault
            they raised up armies
           and stood before rhitta
         to avenge nyniaw and pebiaw

                   rhitta
               conquered every
                one of them
         and shaved off their beards
               making himself
              a gigantic cloak
            into which the beards
           were decoratively worked"

           -- contention of the sons of don

01/05/2007 11:53 PM dougald hine wrote:

> Is there a good reason why you're sending this stuff to the SSF list?

   i'm not sure:
   i'm copying another list
   if only because there's folk there
   that i'd like to know my story --

     a few years ago
     i met some people through writing
     who appeared interested in
     my take on life,
     as i am interested in theirs --
       we wrote, and sometimes talked

   i've met a few of these people
    many i have not met yet
    a few if not all of these i suspect
    hold me still with reservations

   to some i guess my writing
   came as a rude awakening:

    there's a joke around here,
    it goes like this:

      'do you wanna see my impression
       of yorkshire foreplay' --

    if the answer is yes
    you shake them by the shoulder
    and say:

      'are you awake luv'

   i can be a fool at times
   it's no wonder
   people treat me with reservation

   there are other reasons though
   other than my apparent rudeness
   and i guess it is this:

     although i try to make it clear
     when i talk or write
     that i represent myself
     it is apparent that i am
     at the same time
     in some way representative of
     something other than myself

   but then aren't we all representative
   of something other than ourselves

   we act from memories --

    many good ones that anchor
     ours hopes for well being

    many bad ones of failure, repulsion
     and then the process
      of redemption

   my myth begins here --
    i have a tendency
     when i'm playing cluedo
      to begin the game
        with self-accusation

   my story is not unique --
    or at least i don't have any evidence
     to the contrary
      and it is my contention,
       that any one
       who has been close
        to death and the denying
         and has taken
          some sort of responsibility
           should begin the cluedo here

   this is one open ring
   produced long agon from
   rhiannon's big bag of cure
   i happened to be carrying

   i have another:

    a somewhat stranger ring to many
     but one shared
      by many parents:

       a believe that our children
       should at least have better
       environmental conditions to grow
       than we have had ourselves:

        this one i like to label ''progress''
        and submit that this category of change
        should be focused on quality of life
        and not quantity of consumed commodities
        and commodified services

   i have another:

     yet a stranger ring to many:
      my relationship to sovereignty:
       or rather,
        our marriage and yet unmarriage
         as it is:

           my black-white chequered history --
            the myth of my geasa --
             the story of my many drives
               one of which turns like this:

   once upon time i met a child
   as a consequence of courting her sister
   who then was little more than a child herself:

      i said the strangest thing to this child
      as indeed i said later to her sister:

        i told her that when she grew up
        i would marry her

        i am foolish, i act my feelings
        and think that counts as honesty --
        but they do (k)not:

          presenting mitigating evidence
          in defence of my essential grooming
          i offer this
          at the time in question:
           knowing i no intention of
           marrying anyone i, until
           my studies complete
           and qualifications in
           law civil engineering
           institution
           scored a good job
           in arbitration, conciliation
           or resident engineering position
           big water project somewhere
           enable us have chance dream --
            my pipe dream --
            not yet 30,
            just few more years,
            methinks -
            then it's you not you
            my girl
            that's coming with we

            but going weir:

             to live for king
             in castle:
              it's a nice dream
              you'll like it:
              you can share wealth
               in my domain

               me smart:
               me married before
               although become unmarried
               hold the economics
               whatever reality fallout
               in unfolding apparent separation
               as contributory negligence,
               lack of folding cash co-defendant

        i no want this none character
        round disa time round
        to faf with chances happiness:
         i attempting win a clean start

         but presenting self-accusation
         to counter any mitigation
         i offer this
         at the time in question:

              i not clean living


c) the quite man who mistook his wife for a hat
-----------------------------------------------

   i first met fletch
   within the first week
   of moving back up north

   before then
   i'd been working for a council
   in one of hertfordshire new-towns
   but spending most of my time
   based at new river head
   on secondment to thames

   fletch was in one of the lower don's tributary cabins:
    he introduced himself as the man-in-charge
    and bundled 7 to 11 of us,
    the new recruits,
    in to the back of a red works minibus
    labelled ''site''

    we spent the day with him
    going around shalesmore
    neepsend and down the many shafts
    and tunnels:
     it was relatively clean work
     although i didn't think so at the time:
      me being used to desk and indoor jobs
      in previous positions ...



   ... the third squashed time,
   i properly met fletch again
   was a good few years later:
    he was sat cross-legged on top
    of a filing cabinet
    in the main upper don cabins
    which were then located
    adjacent to hillsborough barracks:
     he had his own office there
     with, what i thought was nice furniture,
     however, he had his own ideas of comfort

   he was mumbling something to himself,
   about the person next door
   jerking his head
   and scratching away at his temples:
    a pulp of bleeding eczema

   the mate who'd got me there
   gave me a cup of tea
   at the office door
   and said --

   'he makes me fucking itchy
    just watching him:

    somethings got to be done'

      'yeah ...' -- my reply
      'what about the other-one'

   'he's fucking loony-tunes altogether
    come on let's go and see the others'


   five yards later down the corridor,
   the other-one came out
    and shoots me a query --

         'what are you doing here'

      ''ave called in for cuppa tea' -- my reply

   the other continued to stare at me
    and asked  --

         'are you here on trade union business'

      'no' -- my reply

   the stare continues --

         'is there a health and safety issue
          that i'm not aware of then,
          or some kind of training:

            is that why you're here'

      'am i not welcome' -- says i

         'yes, yes, of course
          but it's a little unusual that's all'

      'i don't get out much ...
       but it's nice when i can'

   the other continues the stare,
   then turned abruptly and closes the door

   'see what i mean' -- says my mate,
   and we walk another five yards,

   the other out again --

         'is there a design problem,
          because if there is,
          i should be the first to know'

      'have not done any design work
       on this job, since the tender stage ...' -- my reply

       '... am seconded to highways now,
        you know that don't you'

         'yes, but i just thought ...

          oh it doesn't matter'

   -- the other-one door shuts, and
   is in again ...

   ... me and my mate walk on
   to the other inspectors ...

   5, 6 of us
   sat in the drying room
   the lads at the end of their shift
   me stum and waiting the change

   small talk, small economies
   hearing claim here,
   vibrating white finger here
   appendix e in an appendix g
   here, and the impending doom
   of privatisation all around

   neil, took off his boots
   and stands up --

   'what tha here for'

      'fletch' -- my reply

   ''e's off 'is fucking 'ead in' 'e'
   -- said neil not looking at me

      ''e was on top o' some filing cabinets
       when a last saw 'im' -- says i

   'fuck me' -- said neil

         'wa' about the other-one' -- says micheal

      'similar spec.' -- says i

         'fuck me' -- intones micheal

   quiet, for about 5 mins.
   the lads, eating mars bars,
   fried onion rings
   or whatever crunch ...

   ... then,
   my mate who brought me the tea,
   started --

   'it's the other-one ...

    ... he's not been right
    since his fiancee dumped him'

   neil and micheal both nod,
   my mate looks at me and says --

   'did you know
    when i got married
    the second time around ...

    ... he tried to sell me his engagement ring'

      'yes' -- i reply

   'how d' ya know' -- replies my mate,
                       his head moving back
                       six inches


      'he told me so' -- says i

   'when' -- asks my mate

      'ages ago' -- says i

   neil and micheal raise their head

   'where' -- asks my mate

      'in a pub' -- says i

   'it's a pity
    you don't go fucking drinking
    with fletch too
    isn't it so' -- says my mate banging out the door


   i wait, the lads get changed
   michaelene arrives --
    last one in,
    last one out of the tunnel

      'how's the craiq michaelene' -- says i

      'tis the backgrouting' -- replies michaelene
      'the ring is weak'

      'never' -- says i

     neil and micheal nod ...



   ... the last time i met fletch
   was many years later:
    i was doing nights
    on the sheaf,
    fletch rang me up
    from home, and asked me how
    the job was going

      'straight and dry' -- i quipped

   he chortled, then told me
   he'd just been speaking to
   glenda jackson, in a phone-in
   on sky tv, and wondered if
   that night, i'd be later free
   to go for a pint

      'my shift finishes at 7 a.m.
       and then am sleeping fletch' -- says i

   after a few ah-go-ons
   i agree to go out with him
   the following week

   he didn't need telling twice:
    7 p.m. that friday night
    he turns up to the cabins
    opposite the midland station
    in black shoes, white socks
    and a red convertible

    micheal, the sheaf valley inspector
    taps me on the shoulder,
    and says --

      'your wife's here ...

       and it looks like
       you're on a promise ...'



         '... where do you fancy going'
          -- says fletch,
          as i slip in
          to the passenger seat

      'where ever' -- says i

         'what about fox house for a few:
          the weathers nice
          and then we'll dump the car'

   we drive up ecclesall,
   through hunters bar
   passed the banner
   top down
   up the hills
   have a few, exchange pleasantries,
   and then to his home
   where i meet is ma

   she's in a wheel-chair
   watching tv, fletch
   introducing me, says --

         'this is who i've been
          telling you about'

   we're soon out again,
   to another pub, this time
   off the outer-ring road:
    another couple of pints
    we chat, and a stripper turns up
    dressed undressing w.p.c.
    somebodies present, 21st apparently

         'what do you think'
          -- fletch queries,
          elbowing my ribs

      'about what' -- my reply

         'her ...
          ... do you think she's nice'

      'i dunno:
       i've not spoken to her'

         'wait there ... yeah' -- says fletch

   standing up, behind the birthday party
   scratching temples,
   feet jittery, staring at her,
   staring at me
   watching the performance
   applauding loudly

   she finishes up,
   packs her black and white kit
   in a head bag, and then dons
   a red silk dressing gown
   and flip-flops, red nail
   accessories

   fletch still clapping
   motions her over:
    she shakes her head declining
    fletch still brimming,
    shakes his head too:
     he moves closer
     smiling sweetly whispers,
     nods to me

         'just wait, yeah
          just wait ...'
         -- he says, then --
         '... yes,
          yes, ok'
         -- now entreating,
         then he jittery flies
         out the bar door

   she comes sit next to me

   'hello' -- says she

      'hello ...' -- says i --
      '... where's fletch gone'

   'to get some money' -- winks she

   the landlord intervenes --

         'you can't stay her luv
          dressed like that ...'
         -- and then to me --
         '... do you know her'

   'yes ...' -- her reply
   '...we used to go to school together,.
    we'll be gone in a min.'

   the landlord retreats

   the women says to me --

   'how well do you know fletch'

      'on and off,
       i didn't go to school with him
       if that's what you mean'

   'no ...
    but do you go out with him ...

    like regular' -- she continues

      'na ...
       this is first time in years'

    'great ...
     did he tell ya,
     i was going to be here'

      'na ...
       what's up' -- my reply

   'nothing:
    but i've told him before
    i'm not going anywhere
    alone with him again'

      'anywhere, where'

   'well, where ever ...
     we'll have a good time'

      'i dunt know what
       fletch has said,
       but i'm not on for owt luv'

   'well that's alright
     you can just watch yeah ...

      look he's back yeah,
      just watch me yeah' -- she finishes

   we get outside and i start --

      'listen ...
       i don't know what you've got planned
       but like ...
       count me out'

         'no,
          come on,
          you'll like this ...

          ... you don't have do anything'

          -- says fletch


     'well in that in case,
      i won't ...' -- says i --

     '... you two go off and enjoy yersen
      i'll stay here, am not bothered'


   'time wasting weirdo'
   -- says the women
   kicking fletch's shins


   fletch turning
   with his palms skywards
   faces me, and says --

         'what's up with her'

      'beats me' -- says i
       what's up with fucking you'



   the women throws her kit bag
   into a diesel cavalier van
   and wheel-spins out
   the patron's par cark



         'don't be like that ...' -- says fletch
         '... it's not my fault,
          it's fucking kylie's ...
          she's poisoned her brain'

      'who the fuck's kylie' -- says i

         'you know ...
          kylie from caesars ...
          she used to go to school with her'

      'which fucking kylie' -- barks i

         'you know ...
          the one that looks like fucking kylie'

      'which fucking caesars
       upper or lower don' -- me barking on

         'lower don' -- fletch replies

      'what colour hair'

         'blonde, like fucking kylie's'

      'no,
       i meant her fucking mound twat:
        what colour,
         or was she shaved'

         'no, don't be like that,
          i don't know:
          brown, black ...
          dark anyway'

      'does she have scars on her thighs' -- says i

         'yes,
          that's right'

      'then she's called tracy'

         'yeah ...
          that's right ...
           i used to go out with her' -- says fletch

      'yeah, but didn't we all' -- says i

         'don't be like that ...
          she's met my ma
          and everything'

      'so have i' -- says i

         'oh ...
          please don't be like that ...

          wait up ...
          where you going'

      'in to town,
       for a pint' -- me walking now,
                      fed up of fletch

         'wait for me then'

      'no ... fuck off
       you're not invited' -- barks i,
                              moving on ...





   ... maybe i should've stuck
   to mi guns,
   but i didn't:
   five and twenty minutes later
   we're in yet another boozer,
   where fletch begins unfolding
   his contention with the lass in the cavalier --

   'so i said:
    i'm not paying an extra tenner
    for that ...
    well, would you have paid'

         'i wouldn't have asked her to do that ...
          but you did,
          and you were on her time,
          so i don't know why you didn't pay' -- i reply

   'but it was for her benefit,
    not just mine,
    so why should i have had to pay' -- says fletch

         'how was it for her benefit'

    'what do you mean,
     we weren't married,
     so what we did was wrong, right' -- says fletch

         'if you thought it was wrong,
          then why were you doing it
          in the first place'

   'oh ...
    you know why' -- says fletch

         'no i do not' -- says i

   'yes you do
    you told me it was ok'

        'me ...
          what y' talking about'

   'you said:
    all sex is a economic transaction
    inside or outside a marriage' -- states fletch

         'never' -- i rebut

   'you did'

         'never' -- i query

   'you *did*' -- says fletch

          'well,
         it does sound like me,
         or rather,
         it does sound like something
         i might have said'

   'you *did* say it:
    on the lower don valley'

         'ok, ok
          but what's that got to do
          with you insisting that she prays after'

   'because we weren't married' -- he says

          'you're off your trolley
            you are fletch
             and make no mistake'

   'why:
    i was agreeing with you:
    all sex is economic
    so it's the same
    inside or outside marriage'

         'no !
          why the praying !
          what's that got to do with me'

   'nothing !
    but that's me inti
    that's my church:
    sex before marriage is a sin,
    so if we pray, after,
    we're forgiven' -- barks fletch

  silence,
  then i start:

         'listen,
          i am not your dad'

   'what do you mean:
    you're not my dad' -- queries fletch

         'just that:
          i am not your dad'

   'i heard you ...
    but what do you mean'  -- queries fletch

         'well,
          you've just put me on par
          with your fucking church,
          and i'm telling ya:
          i am not your fucking dad' -- barks i

   fletch starts sobbing,
   and the landlord calls over:

      'i dunt want any trouble here lads'

         'neither do i' -- says i

   silence, except for the sobbing
   then as i remember
   i start singing to fletch --

         'popeye the sailor man
          he lives in a frying pan ...'

   fletch starts giggling and says --

   'you remembered ...'

   then a bouncer comes in
   off the door and says --

      'we dunt want a lover's tiffs here lads'

   'go fuck yourself' -- says fletch

      'right,
       you ...' -- starts the bouncer
                   mauling fletch

         'hold on a minute sweetheart ...' -- say i
         '... it takes two to tango,
          hold your poppose ...

          we'll be on us way'

   the bouncer barks --

      'you've had your scarborough warning
       the landlord said he dint want any trouble here '

         'trouble here ...' -- barks i smiling

         'i can turn on a fucking sixpence
          if there's trouble here ...

          but we'll be on us way ...

          leave him ...

          no !

          leave him ..,

          we're leaving here ...

          we'll be on us way ...'




  ... and we were,
  again in the fresh air,
  and the soft rain ...

   'i'll go as far
    as the the inner ring road
    with y' fletch,

    but am not any further ...
    not tonight'

      'i thought you said
       you were going in to town'

   'well we're in town now really aren't we'

      'no, we're in the out-skirts ...
       let's get a taxi'

   'no lets keep walking ...
    if we fell over three times
    we'd be nearly there ...
    come on, let's have some fresh air
    listen, let's go to the leadmill
    maybe i'll get lucky and loose you in the crowd'

      'am not going there ...
       it's students or
       grab a granny ...'

   'what's wrong with students,
    what y' after:
     what's up with you tonight:
     you said glenda jackson was alright'

      'she won't be there though,
       will she,
       and if she was
       she wouldn't talk to me,
       would she ... '

   'she's talked to you before' -- says i

      'yes,
       but that wasn't real,
       that was tv'

   'but other people have talked to you really though
    haven't they:
     can you remember that lovely lass in henry's
     ages ago,
     that christmas,
     we were all there ...
     just before we started the upper don
     first night we met drinking i think
     she interrupted you talking:
      you were holding court flamboyantly
      with your other-half
      lecturing us all
      on the ins-and-outs of civil engineering'

      'don't remind me of him' -- stops fletch

   'you got on with the other-one once, though
    don't you remember ...

    but i was reminding you of her ...
    remember ...

    you'd somehow got little mo
    in to the middle of us all ...

    you were waving your arms
    smiling, people were laughing
    mo didn't seem to mind either
    amused and bemused at the same time
    can you remember ...'

      'vaguely ...'

   '... mo was supping on a seven up ...

    and said quite calmly to you:

         i am an engineer now
         and time will tell
         who has the better method'

      'yeah ...

       yeah ...

       what was that all about'

   'i don't know
    you'd both just been on a management course
    and were vying for promotion'

      'oh yeah ...'

   'then that lass came over and said:
    you owe me a bag of chips,
    remember'

      'oh no,
       i knew her didn't i
       it was a girl i went to school with'

   'yes, she was ...
    but you didn't recognise her, at all did you
     not at all,
         at all  ...

    ... or rather,
    you thought you'd met her somewhere else ...'

      'don't' -- stops fletch

   'but you did, remember ...

    i went running after her ...

    after you had told her to fuck off ...

    you'd gone to blackpool with her ...

    on a school trip, remember ...

    and you'd had a very nice day ...

    and you did owe her a bag of chips

    in a very nice way,

    long before you'd got the notion

    of ending every trip with a pray'

      'don't'

   'she was crying ...

    i said: i'm every so sorry luv ...

            i don't know why my mate's just done that ...

            his other name is fletch ...

            are you sure you have the right guy ...'

      'don't'

   'no amount of sorries could fix it for her

    can you remember what you said to her in mitigation:

         - i thought you were a stranger -

                    and she said:

          - does that make it any better:
                 go away, it is you
             that has become a stranger -'

   fletch still sobbing
   fumbles for a fag

   'i thought you'd stopped
    and were on the mineral water'

     -- says i
     making to pass him one
     pulling it back on condition --

   'as long as we dunt 'ave to pray after'

   fletch now giggling,
   sobbing says --

      'what went wrong with us'

   'dunno mate,

    dunno'

   time passes, i smoke too
   and say --

   'little mo made a good point
    you know that night at henry's ...

    oh,
    don't huff ...

    i know you and your other-half
    were in your element
    at the time
    buying drinks all round
    running the show
    issuing your site instructions
    but you remember it all went wrong ...'

      'i am the better engineer' -- says fletch

   'oh ...
    don't be like that ...

    that wasn't the argument ...
    mo wanted to learn from you
    we all did ...
    we'd been put together for a purpose
    and very soon
    we'd all bear similar responsibilities

    but mo didn't like your manners
    there was little to learn from you there ...

    but he didn't blame you
    he blamed the drink
    and the girl
    and what he observed to be
    a lack of moral order
    that had no option but to
    lead to miscommunication
    and social breakdown'

      'is that what went wrong'

   'what !

    oh ... you are being easy on yourself tonight

    have you forgotten blackpool ...

    i think that lass you really used to go to school with
    communicated precisely what she felt'

   the sobbing begins again in earnest

      'it's me init:
       it's me that went wrong'

   'no,
    it is us ...
    it is us that went wrong

    we've all done it,
    insulted, hurt
    the friend, the stranger
    to a lesser or greater degree ...

    you do it loads though
    its as though something
    once made you very numb ...

    i know fletch it did ...

    come on, sing us that song

    do us that little dance ...'


      'you're off your fucking trolley
       you are ...

       ... and make no mistake'

       -- says fletch
       snorting, throwing the fag
       and wiping tears and mucus
       with a linen hankie

   'i know ...

    go on, sing us that little popeye song'

      'no,
       you're fucking loony-tunes'

    'no, i know,
     but go on ...'

   fletch straightens himself up
   and sings, with a voice like a dove,
   to the most peculiar little jig
   a ever changing homespun version
   of popeye the sailor man:
   his party piece ...

   ... he then appears jittery

      'are you happy now' -- says he

   'na,
    go on,
    do it again'

      'i can't,
       not now,
       i need,
       i need ...'

   'no, do it again
    sing your song' -- says i

   something changed,
   but still remained the same
   the lyrics sempt to me
   to be more surrealy real
   his blazer flapping more

   this time round though
   when he was finishing up
   he gets his willy out
   with his left hand
   before raising his right arm
   in apparent triumph, calling across
   the road to two apparent strangers:

      'hello ladies'

   fletch begins to urinate

   'oh blinking heck ...

    excuse my friend, he's a pig'

    -- i hollow across the road


                          'did you train him' -- says the one

                       'we thought it was a recording'
                       -- says the other

      'thank you ladies'
      -- shouts fletch,
      shaking himself dry
      against a curved wall
      that bends into
      some disused railway sidings


   'yes, he's a good singer ...

    but no, i didn't train him
    he came like that
    when i got him,
    but if you like
    he's free to good-home'

                          'no tar, we've both got pigs
                           like that at home' -- says the one

                       'put him a circus' -- says the other

      'don't be like that ...' -- starts fletch

      '... you must appreciate,
       how few toilets there are
       around this town,
       and you look like you have
       smaller bladders than i ...

       you must get caught short
       sometimes ladies'

   'careful ladies ...'
   -- says i
   '... that's his chat up line'

                          'well,
                           everyone got to start somewhere'
                           -- says the one smiling
                              on moving on

                       'goodnight lads'
                       -- says the other

   fletch and i smile
   and wave, and watch
   and wait their footstep
   to silence above the wet road
   local traffic, distant sirens

      'what did you do that for'
      -- queries fletch

   'do what for'
   -- queries i

      'well, we were chatting' -- says he

   'well,
    you've not washed your hands yet ...

    i felt uncomfortable' -- says i

      'but they were lovely'

    'i know,
     but they've got pets of their own'

      'but there were two of us
       and two of them
       we could have had a game
       of mixed doubles'

   'i've got pets of my own,
    just you tonight fletch luv,
    playing solo at the mo'

      'rub it in,
       why don't you' -- says he

   'what ...
    loads of folk who are fixed up
    probably
    envy your position ...

    just like you envy now
    a singles match

    it seems to come in cycles
    these days
    like the economics'

      'do you think i'm fortunate'

   'you're alive aren't ya
    and you've got folding cash'


      'that's a point,
       let's go to caesars
       i'll buy you in' -- says he

   'no,
    am not going any further
    than the inner-ring road
    wi' thee tonight'

      'no go on
       have loads of cash ...

       ... you've bought me in before'

   'have i' -- says i

      'yes,
       when you've lent me cash ...
       and you did say prostitution
       was a far better habit
       than pornography'

   'did i ...' -- says i --
   '... well,
    it does sound like me,
    or rather,
    it does sound like something
    i might have said'

      'you *did* say it:
       on the lower don' -- says he

   'listen, i'm not your dad ...

    no, don't get sad again ...

    listen, it is this:

       prostitution is the flip side
       of pornography ...

       an add-mixture of the real and
       the imaginary ...

       caesars is full of students
       and grannies ...

       you know what am like
       when i start chatting ...

       i can't help but get in to conversation
       about terms and conditions ...'

      'i thought you said you liked them' -- says he

   'yes, i do, it is my nature to like people ...

    though maybe it's the best place for you tonight
    fletch, it's role-on role-off our kinda shit
    every hour and the hour for the women there
    ... they'll have a much better idea,
    how to get you to go to wash your hands, than me
    and that's for sure ...

    ... but i'm not going ...
    am not going any further
    than the inner-ring road
    wi' thee tonight'

      'a thought tha said tha'd go to t'leadmill'

   'have changed mi mind
    i have that prerogative
    i wish i could make it the same
    for them, for kylie, for tracy,
    for glenda jackson even'

      'weirs that leave me then'

   'what do you mean,
    we're here aren't we'

      'no, my chances'

   'what chances ...
    what is it with you:

     we'll go to ...

    no, hold on a minute ...
    what is it with you,
    with you and the public pissing ...

     look, there goes another few'

      'oright lads' -- shouts fletch
                       across the road to a couple
                       of apparent strangers --

      'well i don't know about them,
       but for me, i don't like pissing
       on my own work'

   'how do you mean' -- says i

      'well, anytime anybody flushes a toilet
       in this city, it sooner or later flows
       through a sewer have built'

   'don't give me that fletch:
    i not sure who started that particular mantra
    but it sounds like it began
    in a welsh accent ...

    yeah ...

    that's got you scratching your temples

    have heard it a few times

    your misses on the upper don
    used to sing it in soprano

    oh, lower your arms ...

    away from head,

    lower ...

    it's the song:

    it's the song init:

    that's what makes you urinate'

      'yeah ...

       yeah ...

       i always used to doing it on the bus,
       ... home ... and
       after i'd finished mi song

       and then the clapping began'

   'yeah ...

     yeah ...

      popeye the steelie dan ...

       how old were you fletch ...'

      'oh,

       don't start me off again

       old enough to do it standing'

   'yeah,

    but i dunt know if night clubbing

    will be any good with ya

    you tend to be territorial

    with y' dancing:

     if it's packed they'll bound to be a barny
     in the mood your in tonight ...'

      'they'll be loos ...' -- says fletch --
      '... but i don't tend to dance much
       anymore, anyway ...

       i just go watch

       anyway, you don't have much room to talk
       when you go get going'

   'er ...

    yeah ...

    but i do tend to dance to the music ...

    with you though,
    there's something other ...

    what is it ...

    tell me now ...

     that lass you went to school with,
     the blackpool trip
     what was her name'

      'no, bugger off
       you'll use it against me'

   'but you remember her name yeah'

      'of course i do
       i went to school with her'

   'can you remember how you just
    were so not bothered at the time
    about how you'd upset her'

      'yeah well ...' -- queries fletch

   'well,
    are you bothered now ...



    ... you're not are you'

      'well,
       i'd say sorry' -- says fletch

   'yes, look how far that got you
    last time'

       'well,
        i wasn't trying to get very far was i'

   'what do you mean'

      'well look at me'

   'i am,
    what do you mean'

      'well,
       you remember her ...
       ... she'd really aged'

   'i wish i could recall her name now fletch ...
    i would you it against you

    ... that's it init

    ... why you don't want to go night clubbing

    you just can't pull
    what you think your due
    just because your you
    and normally pay for it'

      'well,
       why should i have to lower my standard ...

       ... and anyway,
       you can't deny i do look dapper

       and, no, i do ...
       i do have a lot to offer,
       no i would,
       i would say sorry, it's just that, oh ...

       i was just mistaken ...'

   'you were the way up ...
    you were at the top ...' -- states i

      'i still am for that matter
       i have a lot of management experience'

   'i know,

    but to where,

    but weir are you'

      'listen ...

       i don't know what it is with you
       and this lass from blackpool,
       but if your were that bothered ...

       you heard what she said to me ...
       that was the end of it
       irretrievable' -- says he

   'what it is with me is this:
    i thought you'd have made a nice couple,
    you did once dint ya,
    in blackpool'

      'we did, but no ...

       but things change'

    'like what ...'
     -- says i --
     ... methods of happiness'

      'so your not coming in to caesars with me' -- says fletch

   'your joking aren't ya' -- my reply

      'yes,
       well at least this time ...
       let's go to the night club
       at the end this road  ...

       what's that one called again'

   'which one,
    the black one that's been painted white'

      'yes that one,
       it's been painted black again...
       ... you might not get in again,
       dressed like that ...

       er ... anyway tis still early doors ...'

      -- fletch begins to scratch his temple --

      '... let's go have another one across the road

       ... no, hold on,

       we've just passed one

       opposite that bridge on
       little london road'

   'you mean the one opposite
    the bridge on saxon ...
    ... there's a few there'

      'yeah ... yeah ...'

   -- fletch looks me up and down

   'if this is another wise crack
    about my dress sense,
    i best tell about what happened
    to a mate back home
    before you get started'

      'yeah ... yeah ...

       but it will have to wait ...

       i'm desperate for a pee ...

       meet you there yeah ...'

   -- fletch begins to run back
   across the sheaf
   with the nippiness of
   a five a side player and shouts ---

      'if you get to the bar first, yeah  ...

       get us a pint will ya'

   'wash your hands' -- shouts i
                        as he disappears
                        into the moonlight ...




    ... when i get there,
    he's already got them in:
    i don't know about his hands
    but it appeared that he'd
    washed his face,

    i moved mi head six inch back
    as i nodded to the pint
    he way passing my way:

        'yes, yes ...

         i washed them ...' -- grins fletch

   'it is not that,
    or rather
    it is that as well, and
    am just wondering, what tha after
    cos until na,
    tha's been two-one-ing me
    with pints tonight' -- says i

      'no, don't be like that:
       you've got me thinking
       that's all ... and i want to ...
       buy you a pint

       here, have got some crisps as well
       salt and vinegar
       lets sit ov'r there
       man it's quiet in here
       let's put some music on
       have you got any change ...

       no ...

       i'm only messing
       have got loads'

   i sit down in a big quiet alcove
   as fletch goes hunt the juke-box
   i scoff his mini cheddars

     minutes pass,
     no music

   'dint you find it'
   -- i says to him returning

      'what' -- says fletch

   'the juke-box'

      'no,

       i was looking for the jacks

       man, will you look at that ...

       and another one, another few ...'

   fletch nods over to a troupe
   of new arrivals,
   dressed with exotic
   accessories

      'hello ladies' -- shouts fletch to them
                        and then to me --

      'but, i did go to the threshing-machine:
       the juke-box as you call it
       but, i couldn't find anything'

   'what nothing,
    not even one from
    the golden oldies' -- says i

       'na, nader' -- says fletch


               'gentlemen' -- a character introduces themselves
                              from the troupe whom fletch as
                              just said hello to


   'hiya' -- says i

               'we are not ladies, and
                most of us are women' -- the person walks away


      'what was that all about ...
       it's political correctness gone mad ...'
      -- starts fletch --
       '... hey ...

       have you eaten all my cheddars ...

       you know she's not the main one ...'

   'not the main one what' -- says i

      'well just look,
       look how they're sitting

       the main one, yeah ...

       do you know them ...'

   'dunno' -- says i

      'how do y' mean
       you dunno ...
       did you not ask their name
       or, did they just not tell you'

   'na,
    it's stranger than that
    i almost remembered their name,
    then remembered to forget it again
    so oinks like you don't use it against them'

      'you're joking aren't ya' -- says fletch

   'kinda,
    i've met a few them,
    but i didn't know they were in a band ...

    she, as you say,

    was nice, though wasn't she

    the one who delivered the terms of engagement' -- says i


      'you're barking, you are,

       you've just turned down,
       a game of mix doubles,
       and want us now
       to turn our industries
       to street theatre characters
       inspired by dr who
       and fun to funky,

       man, you're off your trolley'

   'you can't see it can ya ...

    oh ... here we go,

    they've found the juke-box ...

    here, have some of these crisps' -- says i


   fletch sits awhile
   munching on his crunch
   his foot tapping
   to a song that echoes
   the city, through the police
   and the taste of almonds and oysters

   his foot stops abruptly
   and again his hand again
   scratches at his temples

      'it's all wrong init'

   'what is' -- says i

      'the music' -- says he

   'how do y' mean'

      'it's just meaningless now
       init ...

       i mean, it's just not the same'

   'the same as what' -- says i

      'the same as before'

   'well, it is
    and, it isn't
    isn't it ...

    what was that other song
    i once heard you sing
    apart from popeye'

      'i can't sing any other songs' -- says he

   'you can,
    i've heard you'

      'well that must have been
       a very long time ago'

   'maybe it was,
    oh ...now i know, nelson ...
    life in the air age ...
    ships in the night ...'

      'no !' -- says he

   fletch temple scratching again

   'do you want me to start you off' -- says i

      'no !' -- says fletch

   'go on then, sing it'

      'no !' -- says fletch

   'no, go on, sing it'

      'no !' -- says fletch

   'like a square peg,
    in a round hole' -- starts i

      'no !' -- says fletch

   'like a bird that has no wings'

      'no !'

   'no, go on, sing it'

      'i can't'

   'there's no such thing as can't fletch
    go on, sing your song'

      'no !

       it is not mine

       it is not my song'

   'whose song is it then,
    if it is not yours ...

    can it be our song ... '

      'your off your trolley
       you are
       and make no mistake' -- barks fletch

   'wouldn't you like it
    to be our song ...

    ... like a sailor without an ocean ...'

      'no, yes !
       but it can't be though can it !'

   'i don't know why not
    go on,
    sing it' -- barks i

      'no, it is my brother's
       he covered it
       it is his song now
       it is not mine:
        i am not him'

   'do you mean the comedian
    from crow road'

   fletch giggles, as two folk
   approach shaking a collection tin

             'cancer research' -- queries one

    'not tonight ladies
     have given already' -- says i

   fletch giggles, sobs and buries his face
   in the crisps like a nose bag

   'you remembered' -- says i

      'yes' -- replies fletch

   'yes well
    my brother covered it too
    and willed it to me
    as i will it to you

    go on, sing your song ...'




   ...one and a half hours later,
   we're up and off, and
   on us way, walking
   back into town again

      'they knew him,
       didn't they' -- starts fletch

   'i know,
    it wa' great wa'nt it'

      'did you see the old photos'

   'yes,
    he looked like your double'

      'i had a double while you weren't watching' -- says fletch

    'oh ...
     i thought your mood had changed

     i had one too, a whisky-sour'

       'you're mixing your drinks ...

        oh,
        is that why your oiked me out of there'

   'no,
    i have a chill
    and wanted some fresh air

    and anyway, we can go back there,
    it's nice init,
    and it does make a change'

      'i will go back there ...

       it's her init
       did i embarrass you' -- queries fletch

   'no, how d'y' mean'

      'so it is her,
       she'll eat you alive that one
       did you hear what she shouted at you
       when she left'

   'no'

      'well then perhaps
       it was meant for me'

   'perhaps' -- says i

      'and as for her dress sense ...' -- says fletch


   i stop to stare at fletch,
   fletch stops too

      'it is her init' -- says he

   'let us put it this way ...
    it appears that tonight
    you have a dress code issue' -- says i

      'well it was funny,
       wasn't it ...
       although she'll be more likely
       to get in a club, than you ...

       and as for that war paint
       it looks like the goths are back-in'

   'you've lost me now'

      'her make-up, you know, godiva
       with the face-paint'

   'oh ...

    i didn't notice ...

    i was looking elsewhere'

      'so it is her, isn't it'

   'what is up with you tonight ...

    didn't you just have a good time'

      'yes,
       i'm having a good time now, too ...

       are we following her then'

   'why,

    so you can insult her dress sense'

      'oh don't be like that,

       i was only saying ...'

   'yes,

    well i am only saying too'

      'i don't think they'll let you in,
       anyway ...'

   'good,
    then that's where i'll leave you'

   fletch now begins to giggle and says --

      'oh,
       don't be like that ...

       it would be nice to have a dance'

   'oh ...

    you're up for dancing, are ya' -- says i

      'yeah ...

      you know,
      it was funny back there,
      they knew him better, than i ever could
      he's sung there too

      they knew him as an adult,
      and i only ever knew him
      as a child

      they had fofoes i'd never seen
      and just things about him
      i had never dreamed ...

      it was like,

      it was like ...'

   'a wake' -- says i

   fletch begins to sob

   'that's why i oiked you out of there ...' -- barks i smiling

   '... you're on my time now'

   fletch giggles --

      'now i recognise a welsh mantra ...

       ... who shall we be then'

   'what do you mean
    who shall we be ...

    we're not going
    to a fancy dress
    are we'

   fletch still giggling
   looks me up and down again

   'don't start' -- says i

      'no, no ...' -- fletch giggling --

       ... i mean
       pick a profession,
       like a journalist or something
       we don't want them to really know
       what we do'


   'who ...' -- i snap

   '... oh, you've done this before

    i know what you're up to

    can you remember that same christmas do ...'

      'oh, blinking heck,
       will you leave that lass from blackpool alone ...

       ... it's like listening to all-our-yesterdays,
       having a conversation with you' -- says he

   i start giggling this time --

   'no, not that lass,
    that lass later,
    the lass with the red hair ...'

      'where ...' -- says fletch
      '... i don't remember'

   'no, you wouldn't ...

    i don't know what the place
    was called ...

    it was either an upstairs
    or a downstairs bar
    on the road with chubbies ...

    ... you were architects that night ...

    ... both you and your other-half'


   fletch continues to giggle --

      'oh i remember,

       we did alright that night ...

       and it was you that blew the cover'

   'how !

    how did we do alright there' -- barks i

      'oh don't be like that ...

       you remember ...

       after she'd stop crying,
       she was all over you

       and i got you some drinks in

       and the other lasses thought
       it was a good joke'

   'i don't know about the other lasses
    i only spoke with the lass with the red hair'

      'yeah, i know ...

       she was all over you'

   'do you want to know why'

      'i suspect she fancied you' -- says fletch

   'she was in tears most of the time
    most of the time she was just sobbing'

      'well that wasn't my fault, was it
       she was a fragile shell wasn't she ...

       ... when i was snogging her blonde mate
       she told me, she had to retake
       some exams or something'

   'yes, and that ...

    but that was their cover ...

    her dad had just died'


      'oh' -- says fletch

   'oh indeed'

      'that wasn't my fault though was it ...'

   'no'

      '... and you know how i am
       about those things
       had have been straight over there
       crying with her'

   'i know,
    but you were busy snogging her blonde mate ...

    she was called jane, can you remember tarzan'

      'oh, oh yeah ...
       that's right ...
       me tarzan that night' -- fletch jittery again

   'yes ...

    i think you improvised some fancy dress ...

    from the balloons and decorations ...'


      'oh ... don't tut
       you'd got the main one'

   'the main one what' -- says i

      'oh ... that's right
       you didn't want it that night did ya'

   'didn't want what'

      'you know ...'

   'do you know what fletch ...

    it was little mo, that night
    that saved your bacon,
    as far as jane was concerned ...'

      'never'

   '... even after you'd accused him
    of being thatcher's child in henry's'

      'never,
       i didn't, did i' -- rebuts flecth

   'yes, he was telling you
    why he felt running a newsagents
    would come in handy
    with the work at hand ...

    and you said:

      thatcher was brought up
      in a corner shop
      and look how far that got us'

      'yeah ...
       and then everyone cheered'

   'do you need a pee ...
    or, can you hold on ...' -- says i

      'no, am alright,

       no go on, go on,

       how did we end talking about news agencies'

   'oh,
    little mo was wondering
    about the suitability of oinks like us
    in civil engineering ...

    he was quite sweet about it,
    at the time,
    saying he could understand us being
    policemen, or priests, or doctors
    but surely in civil engineering
    we were more suited to be navies'

      'yeah,
       and then i told him the one
       about a different racial stereotype
       having a tendency to be either doctors
       or newsagents ...

       oh yes, yes, i remember now ...

       that was funny though ...'


   -- fletch jittering --


   '... can you hold on' -- says i

      'yes, for a bit anyway
       anyway how did mo safe my bacon
       with jane'

   'it was when i put an end to your charade
    and told them what we really do for living

    jane turned her nose up ...

    remember ...

    little mo interjected
    on your behalf, as well as his own
    and explaining calmly told her
    how the circular arcs we'd tunnelled
    on the lower don, are large enough to pass
    a double-decker bus through'

      'yeah, that's right ...

       that put it in perspective ...

       then you put your oar in again ...

       and said, of course the only
       double-decker that's been through the lower don a lately
       has come as the bi-product of a biscuit bar ...

       ... your were after her,
       weren't ya

       that red head,

       can you remember her name'


   'i've remembered to forget it ...

    but i'm glad you remind me ...

    no, i wasn't after her ...

    but yes, i certainly wasn't going to let
    an oink like you in with a chance'


      'well then,
       you got your comeuppance,
       didn't you'

   'yes:

    do you want to know what,
    she whispered in to my ear

    her silent roaring ...

    it concerned her dad ...

    no one had told her see ...

    they thought she was a child see
    and had kept his illness undercover ...
    they had lied to her
    they thought it had best come as a surprise
    she never got to say goodbye'


      'oh' -- says fletch

   'oh indeed ...

    mo made a good point later apparently
    has he sat chatting
    to our iranian colleagues ...

    he was questioning them
    about my marital status
    and how many children we had ...

            as ellen sat sobbing
              i will show them
              i will show him
             i am *not* a child
                into my lap
            as i sat shushing her

    mo blamed the drink
    and the girl again obviously ...

    but wondered if
    any relationship could last these days'

      'well, they can't can they'

   'oh i don't know ...

    but the younger one
    of the iranians had that month
    just been nationalised,
    and took mock umbrage
    at mo's constant snipes ...

    he said: time, the duration of a relationship,
             a shared experience,
             is one quantification of a relationship,
             quality is another'

      'he didn't did he'

   'yeah he did ...

    but he didn't leave there, though ...'

      'didn't he'

   'no, he didn't

    he then told mo,
    as he was having constant cracks
    about our women and drink

    that he felt it only right to mention
    that he had a problem
    with the cast system'

      'no, he didn't did he ...

       hold on there ...

       am going to have to have a pee ...'


    -- fletch skips neatly
         down a side road
    and urinates in a to gutter --


         'hello ladies ...' -- says he to no one in particular

         '... this one might get
          a mile or two, before dropping
          in to the don ...

          you never know, it might make it
          to rotherham ...

          ... has montfort finished
          installing the weirs ...'

   'yeah ...

    he's monitoring their energy consumption
    with young dave'

         'oh, good ...

          then it might stay up
          in the victorians ...

          i met dave in ponds forge diving
          last week,
          did he tell you ...'

   'no'

         'oh ...

          you know her who we're following ...

          the ring leader of that troupe'

   'no'

         'you do,

          you know who i'm talking about ...

          you do'

          -- says fletch shaking himself dry


   'yes, i think i know
    who you are talking about
    but no, i don't know her'

         'i'd steer clear'

   'would you'

         'no, i mean if i was you
          i'd steer clear'

   'oh' -- i stop

         'what y' doing ...

          come on ...'

   'no' -- i stay stopped

         'what's up with ya

          have i worried ya'

   'yes'

         'well, it's just her dress sense ...

          it worries me too'

   'no,
    it is not that'

         'well what is it then'

   'it is you'

         'it is me what'

   'it is you that worries me'

         'oh ... ' -- fletch stops
         'well, am not after her'

   'no, quite,
    you just want me in there long enough
    to tie up her interest, or otherwise
    move in on one of her mates ...'

         'oh ... don't be like that,
          i've changed'

   'have you, when'

         'no i have,

          listen, i'm on for dance

          and i know you like to too,

          i was just trying to give you
          some friendly advice,

          they look to me like they could be
          a group of midsummer fire jumpers
          that's all ...

          ... oy, where ya going ...

          ... hold on,
              you're going the wrong way'

   me walking now
   really fed up with fletch

   'i told you earlier
    to forget about playing
    mixed doubles with me
    you're flying solo tonight fletch'

         'no, hold on,
          i've changed'

   'when'

         'no, you've got me wrong'


   'have i'

         'yes,

          i wouldn't try for any of that troupe,

          i think they are weired  ...

          i'm worried that's all'

   'are you'

         'yes'

   'what about'

         'about them'

   'them who'

         'just them'

   'do you know them'

         'know who'

   'them'

         'i know loads of people'

   'i know,
    and loads of people know you ...

    ah ...

    it's not them that's worrying you

    it's the other them'

         'well how can they not ...

          have had a lot of run-ins
          with a few people ...

          you know yourself ...
          you can't build anything
          thesedays
          without having run-ins

          i'm known in this city'

   'ah ...

    who do you think we might meet'

         'i don't know'

   'is it as bad as that'

         'yes'

   'well,

    why don't you tell them
    you've changed'
    -- i walking on

         'oy ... where you going,

          oy ... slow down'

   'no, it is always the other with you
    never the self !'

         'no, slow down ...

          don't be like that ...

          i can always go to fucking caesars !'

   'i am not my brothers keeper !'

         'oh ... have upset you now,
          i can tell,

          slow down ...

          yes, i'm partly to blame, ok !'

   'yes' -- me now stopping slowly and reaching for a fag

         'you must have had run-ins too ...

          you're known here,
          as much as me'

   'yes ...' -- says i

   '... so i don't need roping-in
    with any of yours'

  fletch back giggling,
  i continue --

   '... and it was different for me,
    i come at it from a different path

    but something went wrong,
    between the lower and upper don'

  fletch begins to scratch,
  i continue --

   'i'd just began,

    can you remember ...

    i was the new lad in the office ...

    no one could quite understand
    why i was being employed as an engineer
    when i wasn't an engineer
    and my last job title had been
    temporary technical drawing office assistant'

         'yes ...' -- fletch still giggling --

         '... well,
          they thought you knew something
          didn't they'

   'well i did' -- says i

         'yes ...

          but not what they thought'

   'well, yeah ...

    but i did knew that too:
    i told them:
      if you want to know
      it's no trade secret ...

    but it turned out,
    they just weren't bothered ...
    so they just used me to make the tea
    and put math-co-processors in to the computers ...

    ... i used to take david then
    a cuppa in, every morning at ten'

   fletch begins to scratch again,
   i continue --

     'yeah ...
      do you miss him'

         'at least he was an ear,
          not like the banana bunch
          we have now'

   me walking again

        'oy ...

         where you going now'


   i stop --
   'it's not eighteen months ago
    that you had me up on
    a fucking disciplinary
    before one of the new bananas
    as you call john ...

    ... and he said the same thing to you

    that i have heard david say to you,
    daily ...

    ... put it in writing

    put it in writing,

    hours at a time,

    he sat there dropping opium in to his eye

    on the blower, agony aunt,
    to you and your other-half
    began the upper don

    ... put it writing ...

    someone had got to you both ...

    ... or something, or both

    it was the backgrouting ...

    that's got you scratching ...

    but it wasn't david, was it ...

    not his gentle baritone voice,
    i guess that used to comfort you

    i guess it was his country man,
    that got to you
    i can just hear the conversation now,
    or rather the lilt of it:

     listen cunt ...

       i care little of what
       he promoter of this scheme thinks,
       because they are now accountants

       i care little of what
       the contractors' representatives thinks
       because they are contractors' representatives ...
       and they think like contractors' representatives ...

             ... but me no buts ...

       i have read their consultants' reports,
       let them read ours ...

             'but i am the engineer' -- says you

       i care little of your job title
       but you will become a fucking engineer
       on this job
       or you will be fucked off,

    was it something like that ...'

      'yeah ...

       and then some ...'

   'i know ...

    he did that to a lot of people ...

    but he did have point though ...

    can you remember it,

    the backgrouting ...'

      'yeah ...

       fuck the money-heads
       they're building-in fucking problems
       in hope to cash in
       on future returns,
          revenue streams

       we build to last
       death and injury comes with this location
       and i have no intention, to drag people back here
       from our lack of attention'


   'yeah ...

    it wasn't easy though was it,
    to put in to writing ...'

      'no ...' -- scratches fletch

   'lower your hands ...

    he used to say:

      i can't understand this at all,
      it's not even as though theses engineers
      are taking fucking bribes, or at least
      i strongly doubt it, but then at least
      i could understand their inaction'

    something happened on the don,
    that made us confuse our position,
    and title,
    with a job position,
    and title else where ...

    can you remember ...

    privatisation ...

      well, the promoter says their recruiting engineers
      and they have good benefits ...

      and the contractors say their recruiting engineers
      and that's well paid if you can hack it

      ... and the council obviously don't want me,

      ... or at least not all of us

    and then it became the death
    of a thousand cuts ...

    it still is for that matter:
    i'm fucking off soon
    did i tell ya'


      'you not are you,
       you're only just back
       arn't ya
       off sick leave,
       i thought you liked it
       on the sheaf,
       back on completion'

   'yeah well
    you know what thought did,
    and in any case,
    i'm sick of it again'

      'no ...

       what you going to do then

       take a job with one of the authorities'

   'na,

    they're not authorities anymore, are they

    they lost their authority when they became p.l.cs,
    and we ended playing monopoly

    am gonna go back faffing with computers for a bit
    have you ever heard of the internet'


      'well that's smashing,
       init ...

       come on,
       i'll buy you an early leaving drink,

       we'll just mention the internet ...

       that's bound to impress them'


   i begin to giggle this time --
   'i thought you said you changed'

      'well, i have
       haven't i' -- says fletch

   'how'

      'well,
       i'm not scared of them anymore'

    'no,
     well i guess not'

      'and,
       anyway you can vouch for me'

   'about what'

      'well,
      that i've changed'

   'no,
    i can't vouch for you

    you need to vouch for yourself'

      'just listen right,
       i'm not after riding-in
       on your wake'

   'you've lost me now ...

    oh ...

    i get you ... ' -- me giggling --

    ' ... so you have changed a little bit ...'


      'yeah, well no
       but listen right ...

       you know as well as i do
       if we go night clubbing
       that questions will be ask about us two'

   'what about us two'

      'about us two turning up together'

   'by whom'

      'well, anyone'

   'well, answer them'

      'i can't though,
       can i'

   'why not'

      'because we've not worked out
       the answer yet'

   'well, we don't know
    the questions yet, but let's try
    sticking to the truth'

      'so ...
       you'll tell them i've changed, will you
       that i've turned over a new leaf'

   'i'm not your keeper, priest or dr'

      'precisely, but we could be cousins'

   'could we'

      'yes, it would benefit you
       as well as me'

   'would it'

      'yes, questions are bound to be asked ...

       listen,
       can you remember that time
       we got mistaken for brothers ...

       you didn't like that did you'

   'no' -- i reply

      ' ... and we do look alike ...

       ... and didn't you once tell me
           that there's a fifty percent possibility
           of us having joint ancestry
           if we go back five generations ...

           ... remember'

   'yeah ... i remember,
    go back eleven, and the same
    can be said for toute le monde

    but i'm remembering now
    how selective your memories are ...'

      'what,
       oh don't be like that ...

       i know you hate violence,
       but you heard what that bouncer said,
       he was just asking for it ...

       and, he caught me
       at the wrong time, ok ...

       ok ...'

   'ok, ok
    but let me put it this way:
    maybe i was wrong to intervene,
    to get in the way, between you and
    the bouncer, maybe it was a comeuppance
    for the violence you inflicted on
    the stripper'

      'oh,
       don't be like that,

       you saw her,
       she couldn't have been that worried ...

       she was willing to perform
       in front of a stranger
       and it was me that got my shins kicked'

   'she was at risk
    she is at risk
    she was risking it ...'

      'risking what
       a prayer as an extra ...

       listen, don't give me that karma baloney:
       we make us own luck right
       we make us own chances'

   'yeah ...

    well maybe we make us own
    bad luck too, just by our attitude'

      'oh ...
       well then,
       then maybe we are related'
      -- fletch back giggling

   'well,
    maybe we are,
    but what you after
    what is it with this cousin-business'


      'listen,
       it's about your sexuality'

   'how'

      'the benefit'

   'how'

      'you know ...
       questions are bound to be asked ...

       and whatever my sexuality is,
       my preferences are obvious ...

       but with you,
       everything is in doubt'

   'is it'

      'yes, remember
       i've seen you dancing
       in caesars'

   'and ...'

      'and, some people were confused'

   'not all of them'

      'but enough of them'

   'so'

      'so ...

       we can't be brothers can we'

   'why not'

      'because they'd never believe us
       because we are so different'

   'so different how'

      'you know ...

       different in that way'

   'so,
    no, whatever ...
    what's my benefit ...'

      'well,

      they'd like that,
      wouldn't they,
      our difference:
      that troupe we're following:
        you heard the terms'

   'and why should that
    make us cousins'

      'well,
       we can't just be mates can we
       cos then, that would make us
       mates, mate, same sexuality'

   'no' -- stops i

      'no, it would,
       or at least it could'

   'no, i mean i'm not
    your cover'

      'oh come on,
       it's not like that'

   'listen,
    i did a twelve hour shift in the damp
    on days today, before we got started
    on nights,
    can't we just go with the flow'

      'how do you mean'

   'well,
    you always have to have
    an agenda, dunt ya'

      'i'm just being prepared'

   'yeah, ever the boy scout,
    prepared for what'

      'don't start that again ...

       you always have an agenda too'

   'do i'

      'yes,

       so don't give me that ...

       you're just as likely
       to ride in on my wake
       and clear the pieces'

   'am only dancing tonight sweetheart' -- states i

      'yeah, ok ...

       so don't give me that ...

       you've not even figured out
       where you're sleeping tonight
       have ya'

   'it's still early ...

    have not even figured out
    if i'll be sleeping tonight

    but have got plenty of mates
    and plenty of cousins'

   fletch begins to scratch,
   i continue --

   'listen,
    it is like this:

    i know you, and you know me:

    i'm not going to come to your defence
    again, if you upset anyone,
    it somehow encourages ya
    to do it again'

      'have changed'

    'when ...

     and am not giving you
     a blank cheque on my name'

      'what do you mean'

   'this cousins-business ...

    most folk around here,
    don't know my name,
    why should they,
    it is not important to them ...

    but they know my face,
    i don't keep that covered ...

    and i have no intention
    of letting these folk,
    first know my name, to facilitate
    some kinda fletch type scam

    as my name is important
    to me'

   fletch stops now,
   i continue --

   'aren't ya coming ...

    i want to get in out the damp'

      'weirs that leave me then,
       what do i tell them'

   'you're going to have to be
    yourself'

    fletch begins to scratch,
    i have another go --

   'oh,
    don't be like that ...

    as you said, you do look dapper
    and you've got a lot of
    management experience to offer'

    fletch scratches a giggle,
    and starts --

      'not them,
       the other them'

   'oh,
    i don't know ...

    i don't know what you've done
    to them, do i ...

    do you'

      'some, of course
       do you think i'm crackers'

   'well,
    to those some,
    start by saying sorry'

      'yes,
       and look how far that got me
       with catherine'

   'who's catherine'

      'that lass from henry's
       the chips in blackpool'

   'oh, so
    you do know her name then'

      'yeah, of course
       she used to go out with
       my brother'

   'never' -- says i

      'yeah,
       i thought you'd remembered'


   'no ...

    ah ...

    listen fletch ...

    saying sorry shouldn't be the start
    of some elaborate fore-play'

      'shouldn't it,
       i thought you said
       we'd make a nice couple' -- fletch back giggling

   'ah,

    no, so,
    that's the way it is with you
    is it:

       you'll say sorry so long
       as you get your own way ...

       if you ever got catherine
       by hersen, again, i bet in time,
       you'd return to form:
        you'd probably end up fucking her,
         and then make her pray for the privilege'

    fletch stops now,
    grabs my upper arm,
    and stops me --

      'don't say that about catherine,
       she's not like that'

   'oh, i don't know ...
    things change, she's aged, and ...

    all sex is economic transaction'

      'no !

       she's not like that !
       she's never been like that !'

   'i wonder what colour
    her mound is' -- queries i

   fletch grabs my other arm
   barking into my face --

      'listen twat,
       catherine's not like that,
       she used to go out
       with my brother !'

   'yeah aknow,
    she might be hard up though now,
    i wonder what she'd do
    for the price of a vindaloo' -- queries i

      'she is not like that !
       you wouldn't have to force her to do anything
       and i wouldn't let anybody force her
       to do anything, let alone that'

   'then why do you force the stranger ...

    why did you force the stripper,
    stranger ...

    and why did you want me
    to watch'

   fletch releases me
   and leans against a wall --

      'what went wrong with me'

   'dunno mate,

    it's as though we all got confused
    between saying sorry, and being sorry
    between appearing to be in the right,
    and being in the right:
    doing the right thing ...

    but with you,
    whilst ever you're being watched, fletch
    and you get away with it,
    the more justified you feel
    ...
    and the more that watch, the merrier,
    you care little about the stranger'

      'what do you mean,
       doing the right thing' -- says fletch

   'i thought you had church ...
    didn't they give you any clues there'

   fletch back giggling --

      'well,
       i've never coveted my neighbours ox'

   'well, that's a start ...

    what about his ass ...

    come on i'll race ya,
    if i get there first,
    you buy me in yeah ...

    you on for a dance yeah ...'

   fletch still giggling begins to run --

      'but what i shall i tell them'

   'what ever they wanna know'

   fletch beats me to the night-club
   by a short-head, the club has a fresh lick
   of black paint, and a new name:
    the badonfield

   there's fresh fly-posting too,
   i stop to read

        "the images are the forms
         of natural bodies which,
         as surfaces,
         as it were detach themselves
         like skins and transfer
         these bodies into appearance

         these forms of the things
         stream constantly forth from them
         and penetrate into the senses
         and in precisely this-way
         allow the objects to appear

         thus in hearing nature hears itself,
         in smelling it smells itself,
         in seeing it sees itself

         human sensuousness is therefore
         the medium in which natural processes
         are reflected as in a focus
         and ignited into the light of appearance"


d ) the badonfield
------------------

[ & b iv) conceptulisation of the other :: a prototype parton state ]


     ... to be continued ...


> On 5/1/07, amadan mor <adam at diamat.org.uk> wrote:
>>
>>    "all of us are the children born of the damsels
>>     whom amangons and his men raped --
>>
>>          these great wrongs
>>          shall never be redeemed
>>          in wordly time
>>
>>         we are bound to travel in common,
>>          knights and damsels,
>>           through this land
>>            until god wills that
>>             the court of joy be found,
>>              for that will make
>>               the land bright again"
>>
>>                -- the elucidation ~ 1230
>>
>>
>>
>>   in elizabethan times shakespeare wrote
>>   upon this archipelago, and beyond
>>   of kings, their battles, secret ambitions
>>   crimes, courts, resolutions
>>
>>   hansard and analogous records
>>   records these things presently
>>   to me, in a less comprehensible fashion
>>
>>   sovereignty's image appears world over
>>   on stamps and bank notes, faces, institutions
>>   past present heroins princes land-thoughts
>>   sovereignty's regalia, co-dominions
>>
>>   many images, mapping out the currency
>>   of social and economic intercourse
>>   respectively banding the strands
>>   of the ideas, the imaginary that form us
>>
>>   the why of our mappings
>>   manifests in complex reality bindings --
>>    social niceties of rarefied times
>>    compressed into temporal defence
>>
>>      who comes lapping against the shores --
>>          what end justifies the means king
>>          rang 911, madrid, london
>>          ripping through core common mantle
>>
>>   other mappings -- walled cities, check-points
>>   fronts, disease, danger, death
>>   exclusion zones, demarked territories
>>   chequer game reality --
>>
>>   -- full spectrum imaginary war games
>>   acted, role-played, multiple scenarios
>>   move through dress rehearsal
>>   to the theatre of the real
>>
>>   sovereignty chooses her own representatives
>>   tests and trains her champions
>>   bestowing rings of invisibility
>>   giving free capacity to her command
>>
>>   echoes her command --
>>   the means justifies the end





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