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Sunday, 13 November 2011

Rotating Outrage

This is an accidental poem. I did this tweet, it went: "Would it be callous of me to rub emery paper on your elbow until it formed a patch of hard skin?" I know, I know, and as sure as backlash follows praise-to-the-skies, along came Lawrence Charter or @Lawrencharters: an emery paper bot. I always embrace bots for a while at least - they might be useful for smoothie reciepes, the spelling of 'recipes', or amusing find-our-truck-in-Bavaria-and-win-a-trip-to-Bavaria games in German [they offered to translate into English for me, but where's the fun in that? I just hit the keyboard slower but harder]. Anyway, @Lawrencharters tweets have turned out to have a poetic quality to them, bound by the local newspaper headlines repeated, or the daily rough and tumble of existing in a largely emery paper ignorant world. This poem [yes, dammit, I'm calling it a poem] is based on four tweets, one on the 11th and three on the 12th November - in order and verbatim:*

'Rotating Outrage'

Pipe markers
how can we get related to their indicators?
health
the starving theater artist

rotating outrage
melton pool league
harboro-cabadra
preserve magic start to season

melton today -
teak maintenance set
abs plastic
fibreglass vessel restore

try square rehab project
hand tool journey
a woodworking show
sand paper

babble out
from instinctive
gasoline burp
pulls in


I will monitor @Lawrencharters and hopefully extend this into a bot Ulysses. Bots: not just here for the nasty things in life.


*added to on 15th Nov.
Sad to inform that on 11th December 2011 @Lawrencecharters severed our alliance. It could have been so beautiful.

Monday, 7 November 2011

Girlfriends In A Car Park, I Know, I Know, It's Serious

A little red car enters the car park. Once parked, the passenger door flies open and out fumes the passenger. She spits "S'yalater!" and sprints towards the Thomas Paine Study Centre. The driver *exits door right* with more calm but red faced and breathing deeply. She checks no-one has seen anything [oops] and gathers herself in the same direction. Boy do I want to know what went on. For the sake of argument [not that you are arguing] we'll call the driver Emily Fittipaldi and the passenger, Izzy Pop.

Emily and Izzy are friends and work together. Emily is on flexi-time but Izzy is not, perhaps on a short-term contract/maternity leave do-dah. They meet in the kitchen at work at 8:15 and have a cuppa before work. Yes they are friends, I'm having that. One day Izzy turns up late because her little blue car has conked out - Emily has to pass her house on the way to-and-from work so offers Izzy a lift. In these austere times I know not how many lifts you give someone before the vulgar question of petrol money comes up. First time? A week? I think Izzy would have offered straight away but Emily would refuse as Izzy has had enough crap to deal with for one day/week...
"Anyway, you'll be getting another runabout soon.."
"Ah, there's the thing: I don't think I can afford one - I was going to ask....

So let's say petrol money regular and up-front - both get to work same time, no inconvenience for Emily and a few extra coffers too. Remember, these people are friends. But is sharing a car every day like sharing a bed or mini-moving-in-with someone? I'm guessing it is. I think after a while Izzy asks Emily if she wouldn't mind putting Radio 4 on instead of Hëärt FM, she might wince and make a little gasp as Emily almost jackknifes a cyclist. On the other hand Emily might be a bit too close to Izzy's perfume for her liking or wish she would bloody sit still always fiddling with the seatbelt and the air conditioning and the vanity mirror yes she's soooo vain I never noticed it before but now you mention it... I think it is Emily who falls out of 'love' first. But what to do? Tell Izzy to get a bus pass? Pretend she fancies her to frighten her away? Develop tourettes? No, I think Emily is more devious than that - remember she is on flexi-time, doesn't matter when she starts. Emily starts moving the pick-up time back by tiny increments, almost unnoticeable, until Izzy finds she can't have that relaxing cuppa before work, until she's rushing to make her start time at all...

What I saw was the last straw. Which has a kind of rhythm to it. 'Rhythm' is a funny looking word isn't it? Should it really have two h's in it? Shut up I'm trying to finish. Perhaps they nearly came a cropper with a big old lorry at a roundabout, Emily effed and blinded the rest of the way about men drivers and just as they were passing the creepy guy who looks after the barriers at the University...
"Well, you did indicate to turn off, but went straight on...

Car sharing is obviously a good idea. Saving the planet and all. I bet it's one of the reasons Sting can keep at it for 18 hours solid. I said "solid". I don't think it worked for Emily and Izzy. If I see Izzy getting out of Steve's car tomorrow, I'll let you know. Don't get me started on Steve.