Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Squawk of the North 5

"Our Hero."

Squawk of the North 4


Squawk of the North 3

"First..back to back!"

Squawk of the North 2

"Life in the colony."

The Right Cash!

Squawk of the North 1


The Laputan Battle Automaton

Laputa, flying island of the Tomtoddies, threatens to attack Farenfox with these flying, fire-spitting automatons.

If so happens, the defence of Farenfox will be left to the home militia. They have no major geopolitical conflict with the Flying Island, but the cultural gulf is enormous, with nothing but disdain between the peoples.

The Laputans pride themselves on their technological and scientific edge, but they are the "Tomtoddies- all heads and no bodies", considered by the Doggerlanders and other "terriers" (that's Laputan- "ground dogs"- for all people who don't live on a Flying Island) to be so degenerated as to be no longer properly human.

Indeed, the Laputans do look rather different; rather like giant humanoid radishes. Too weak to lift a rifle, they rely on their automatons to wreak havoc on their supposed inferiors. This is mainly to remind them that they are inferior; but as a Laputan and he/she will give you a thousand different well-argued reasons.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Yesterday's Dip

Frankenstein's Dream

A Collection of Great Breadsticks!

There is a breadstick in the town,
Hey, ho, said Johnny!
That got so baked that it turned brown,
And all the sailors sing in chorus;
Heydee, ho, hey, said Johnny!

There was a breadstick in a jar,
Hoo de hoo, said Johnny!
Looked just like the snout of a Gar,
And as the window-cleaners drop,
Hoo, de, hohay, said Johnny!

A girl fell into a nuclear reactor,
Poo an' ooo, said Johnny!
Then up a breadstick came and whacked her!
And as the fanboys frizzled in fear,
Whoo, hoo, hoo, said Johnny!

Hans Küng

Grab both horns of that uncertainty
And wear it out with your own honesty,
(Like Linus in the pumpkin patch,
Relying on sincerity?)

I still don't know what I'm doing,
Thinking, Believing or just wishing,
But a gentle voice speaks carefully,
Every time I roll eyes at myself.

But gentle and firmer, but fast,
So ideas roll out like an Orontes,
From Tübingen and it's spires,
A hard kernel of a school.

The Rock, The King, The Küng,
All life to the gentleness,
The King on His Day will look at the Küng,
And a Küng may look at a King!


The Street on which we're walking,
Was busy as an after hours bar,
Passing through the crowds
And the leaflet touts
And the silver silly arses standing still for coins

Students and Tourists and scooter teens
And all weaving through the stalls of junk
The kids may wanna buy something,
Something like a bright plastic water gun
A memory of a far-off land,
A memento from a different culture,
A souvenir, I think the word is,

Somehow I don't really feel abroad,
As I stick a fork into a fish,
And the alcohol kicks in,
But she is beautiful in the sun,
The way it shines through her dark brown hair,
And the way she freshens,
With colour in her face,
And the light breeze on the summer dress,
And the sandals hurting her feet.

I'd miss her so much,
And though I am on a chain,
And dragged around in my straw hat,
I wouldn't know what to do alone,
With the Retsina and the sunset

Olive Drab

I wear Olive Drab,
And I remember,
Yes I remember,
The day I said to you;
the last thing that was said,
Before you said goodbye,
And after you said,
That you regret,
The only thing I said
was really nothing.

I wear Olive Drab,
And my dog looks sad,
And the day is sad,
This day I said to you,
the last thing that was said,
Before my dog looked sad,
And after all the rain,
came pouring from the sky,
there was just nothing.