Good Morning Doggerland!

North Stoke

2011-11-16T17:51:00.000+01:00

He buttoned up his parka
And rubbed his fur-lined boots together
And pulled his wooly hat over his ears
And walked passed the chippy
And kicked a rusty tin can
And sighed into the wind
And that was more or less it
And evening out
In North Stoke.

Pool Table Memories 1.1

2011-04-26T08:32:00.000+02:00

The balls lie
on the green felt;
and challenge.

Movie

2011-04-26T08:19:00.000+02:00

It's like a trip on LSD,
this movie I don't want to see,
that's what the writing on the poster claims,
though it's hard to read the actor's names,
it's all in psychedelic script,
the guy who wrote it must have 'tripped',
just another acid head,
by now probably dead,
since it's quite as old as me,
this movie I don't want to see.

Sweet Water

2011-04-26T08:14:00.000+02:00

Desalination plants;
puffing away beneath the night sky.
Salt water to sweet water.
Sweet water to sour water.
At three a.m the repair man arrives.
"There's an' ol' sawfish jammed
in the intake!"
Again.

Hall of the Knights, Hague

2011-04-17T22:40:00.002+02:00

Crab's Gaze

2011-04-15T09:01:00.001+02:00

I'm never quite sure how it sees me,

That Blue Swimming Crab with the long, bossy pincers.

But sometimes it comes up quite near me,

And little eyes on stalks gaze at the oddity,

And send little signals along giant axons,

Then all of a sudden it swims off like a prodigy

Ending the meeting of Blue Crabs and Saxons!

Summer Indolence

2011-04-15T08:55:00.000+02:00

Enough songs have been sung,
about a cold beer on a summer's day,
outside a small café,
on the waterfront,
let's say,
when the sun's still out,
and the gulls flap about,
and you're in your summer dress,
smiling and it's less,
than five minutes to the boat,
but still it's what I wrote;
enough songs have been sung
about the summer.

Gnat Rag

2011-04-15T08:49:00.001+02:00

Everybody's doin' the Gnat Rag,
'roun' and 'roun' the sixty watter.

Everybody's doin' the Gnat Rag,
now the weather's gettin' hotter.

Last I was on a fishing-trip,
I lost ten pints of blood,
Now I know everything about the Gnat Rag
You could say I learned it good.

Everybody's doin' the Gnat Rag,
every lil' pest in sight,

As you sweat there in your sleeping-bag,
They'll keep the dance on through the night

*That dear old raaaaag!*

Barn

2011-04-14T10:02:00.000+02:00

Cadiz

2011-04-14T09:55:00.002+02:00

Just Flyin' Through (unfinished)

2011-04-14T09:28:00.002+02:00

Original

Detail.

Attempts at enhancing picture:

Unknown Wall

2011-04-14T09:01:00.002+02:00

Horus, Edfu Temple

2011-04-14T08:58:00.001+02:00

When in Rome

2011-04-14T08:54:00.002+02:00

Church in Schann, Liechtenstein

2011-04-14T08:46:00.002+02:00

The Globe Theatre, Southwark

2011-04-14T08:39:00.000+02:00

Pyramids of Giza

2011-04-13T23:21:00.001+02:00

3B 2.15

2011-04-12T22:13:00.000+02:00

There is conformity
and non-comformity.
Neither are comfortable.

3B 2.14

2011-04-11T22:53:00.000+02:00

Our shared vulnerability
is a thing of a gold
in a mudslide of irony.

3B 2.13

2011-04-10T12:28:00.001+02:00

Money and time
pull mercilessly
in opposite directions.

3B 2.12

2011-04-10T12:12:00.000+02:00

Smoked flesh and not smoke,
yet we try so hard
to be phantoms.

3B 2.11

2011-04-10T11:55:00.001+02:00

Standing on the top
of the world;
the popping corks sing 1991.

3B 3.5

2011-03-15T18:39:00.000+01:00

Black this
Pale that
New shade of Docs.

3B 3.4

2011-03-15T18:34:00.001+01:00

Smoke out the window!
Their pet mouse Anais Nin
mustn't develop athsma.

3B 3.3

2011-03-15T18:30:00.000+01:00

Here's a cup of coffee.
I'm half dead;
It's still a cup of coffee.

3B 3.2

2011-03-15T18:19:00.003+01:00

Three talkers sit
on the greasy kitchen floor.
One is interested.

3B 3.1

2011-03-15T18:15:00.001+01:00

Coat flaps in the breeze;
Shotgun barrel points at hi-hat
Finger pulls trigger

3B 2.10

2011-03-15T09:28:00.001+01:00

In our coats
standing at the bar
Early Friday

3B 2.9

2011-03-15T09:20:00.001+01:00

Diamond lattice window
cracked yellow street
All night in the center of town

3B 2.8

2011-03-15T09:10:00.002+01:00

At the Jazz club
a voice in the dark
suddenly shouts out "Tension!"

3B 2.7

2011-03-15T09:03:00.002+01:00

There is a little stand
A serious-faced girl sells
Anarchist Comics

3B 2.6

2011-03-15T08:55:00.003+01:00

Low concrete ceiling
Chaotic 'Goth slide'
The world spins

3B 2.5

2011-03-14T18:02:00.001+01:00

The 'Three Musketeers'
in Backgammon
can't ride or fence

3B 2.4

2011-03-14T17:58:00.002+01:00

Unfamiliar walls..
I walk naked
down a dusty staircase

3B 2.3

2011-03-14T17:52:00.001+01:00

Saturday;
the punks are out!
They stand around the foyer

3B 2.2

2011-03-14T17:46:00.001+01:00

He drops her like a rock
The other takes her up
Roll to Rock

3B 2.1

2011-03-14T17:40:00.003+01:00

We have five minutes
to catch the Movie!
Or maybe all night

3B 1.10

2011-03-14T17:33:00.001+01:00

The paper boy arrives
The barman sighs
A G&T appears

The Junkers at the Fortress of Illusions

2011-03-14T12:05:00.001+01:00

The carnosaur slept as I hummed the Junkers' theme and steered the Geryon into orbit around a thousand million tons of debris from a million totally divergenet alien civilizations.

Good pickings here! I thought to wake the Carnosaur up, but it needed it's sleep, being exothermic and so forth. Just have to wait.

Being a Junker means searching for junk. There's always some, but it can save time and effort if you can search out the really big hauls. There was one here, swirling slowly around the great blaring Fortress of Illusions. They've been coming here for thousands of years; eager and greedy; expecting more than they deserve. And it's punished them. Reduced them to junk.

I needed a carnosaur to operate the heavy controls for the Geryon's enormous pincers; but it continued to sleep. Bored, I flicked through my DNA chip collection and considered the possibilities.

Pterodactyl? Wombat?

I needed neither. What I needed was to relax. Patience. I turned up the music and pressed the Gin spigot button. Two noseless golden fembots appeared, smiling and added tonic, ice and a twist of lemon.

I whistled the Junkers' theme some more, sipped a very nice Gin & Tonic and contemplated the vast silent ocean of alien junk floating around the great Fortress of Illusions.

3B 1.9

2011-03-13T20:33:00.002+01:00

Around a little table
Our education
in prog-rock

3B 1.8

2011-03-13T20:27:00.003+01:00

Beer and more;
I am the man to-day
Tomorrow

3B 1.7

2011-03-13T20:23:00.002+01:00

Until this moment
I never knew
The Doors had done a Whisky Bar

3B 1.6

2011-03-13T20:15:00.004+01:00

"Give me back the Tobacco!"
he hollers accusingly.
His friends have it.

3B 1.5

2011-03-13T20:08:00.001+01:00

Face against the tiles;
collapse here?
A death sentence.

3B 1.4

2011-03-13T19:59:00.002+01:00

Yellow and grey
The texture of air
heavy with smoke

3B 1.3

2011-03-13T19:55:00.004+01:00

Love is just
a kiss away...
Oh, courage!

3B 1.2

2011-03-13T19:48:00.002+01:00

Sun is bright above;
down the stairwell
is a café door

3B 1.1

2011-03-13T19:43:00.002+01:00

Old Volvo Amazon
Glory on the road
A rusted cherry

The Steel Legionnaire!

2011-03-08T21:03:00.011+01:00

The close-up:

One Sentence Tale

2011-03-05T17:05:00.002+01:00

Last time Wile E. Coyote and I caught sight of the notorious Captain Whizzo he was adjusting his goggles for take off and calling out "Later dudes!" before his powder-blue fifeteen-engine interplanetary Cadillac convertible blasted off from the desert surface, raising up a dust cloud the size of Belgium, shaking the Joshua Trees and startling the Gila Monsters into drooling venom onto our Marc Bolan inspired footwear.

Ragas

2011-02-25T00:16:00.004+01:00

Hear the Ragas
We're waiting
for winter
to end

Grampus

2011-02-14T17:59:00.000+01:00

Alp Kiss

2011-02-14T17:50:00.003+01:00

A Song

2011-02-11T23:28:00.003+01:00

Don't hate your heart, drunkard,
just don't,
The world according to angels,
is still within your reach,
never will the beaming child hope,
stop skipping in your soul
So don't hate your heart, drunkard,
it's doing the best it can.

Don't hate your heart, drunkard,
don't,
As you lie on your side,
in a ditch, in the mud,
it's trying to abide,
and it's still pumping your blood.
So don't hate your heart, drunkard,
don't,

Knit your brow through the carousels,
and listen instead to the whispered song,
Far, far off, and whispered,
in the depths of your mind,
whispered garble

Märk hur vår skugga...
märk Movitz mon frère...

...repeated

Continuity Defines Us!

2011-02-11T23:17:00.007+01:00

...sort of...

T-34

2011-02-02T10:35:00.004+01:00

On the strength
of a flat four point five
the tin tank came alive,
and the polish T-34,
crept it's way
along the floor

In the gravity-defying Village

2011-02-02T10:25:00.001+01:00

In the gravity-defying village
the universal dome
the waterfall
the trees suspended
on islands floating in air.
The purple flying birds;
people in peace;
three suns
shining in the sky.
A new day and there,
upon a bed of orange moss,
you and I will lie,
feel the pleasant tingling mist.
Far-off music,
played on many instruments,
sad and hopeful tunes,
ragas and dances,
mixing with the
song of the birds
greeting the day.
And our lovemaking
is effortless;
just a touch
a careful touch
in the right place
and we shudder in delight
and do it again!

Mock n'roll

2011-02-02T10:18:00.001+01:00

Rock the age
it's easy enough
there's nobody home
there's no-one to roll!

The world as we know it
a well-supplied waiting room
with whispers and giggles
and many impatient patients

Lord! We are ill!
We need a physician
miraculous beauty
mystical insight
that ever so ever so
profound sense of..
...something..

All this can wait!

Two boys can fold
a paper boat
and chase it with glee
along a gutter
to a storm drain.

Mock the age
it's easy enough!

Mock n' roll!

Close Stranger

2011-02-02T07:44:00.003+01:00

Wet, glistening umbrellas
along the boulevard
wine bar
music hall
strangers

You are a stranger
yet close

The close stranger
close as breath

A voice
from a different life
points of contact
we could (if we chose to)
draw our lives
as multi-dimensional
hyper figures
that overlapped
just ever so slightly

Close as the air we share
in a small room
Close as breath
Close as touch
(your soft, warm skin)

Wet boots
in a corner
smell as they dry

Bronze Fury

2011-02-02T07:35:00.001+01:00

In a bronze fury
the phalanx
with an audible "oomph"
lowered their spear tips
at Dareios' approaching cavalry

A collision
of hooves and blood
and broken wood
the clatter of metals
the groans of the skewered

Fury dies in dying eyes

Ib Schønberg (1902-1955)

2011-02-01T21:51:00.002+01:00

Stratosphere

2011-02-01T21:43:00.004+01:00

Shaped like the sphere below
baked in the UV
dancing in the sun-drenched cold
grooving in the stratosphere

Bouncing off each other
like high-energy pinball
time to think as we tumble
laughing as we rumble
totally elastic
bouncing off the ground and
straight back into the stratosphere

Through the cloud of dust and water
beyond the pulse of radio waves
tune in to those ancient rhythms
playing in the outer layers
where the sunlight cuts like a breadknife
in the lonely stratosphere

Though the lightning zips a highway
of shrieking unpredictable electrons
we may suddenly be grabbed
and plummet in a giant column
seeing everything at once and nothing
hust a blur as we move faster
tearing through the stratosphere

Lindorm

2011-01-30T15:57:00.003+01:00

Cheese Mites

2011-01-30T11:32:00.001+01:00

Cheese Mites, Cheese Mites,
Living in a Stilton,
Quite an easy life for them,
Like living at the Hilton

In 1903,
Came The Cheese Mite Movie
So they were early movie stars,
And hung out in the Astor Bar!

Cheese Mites, Cheese Mites,
Plummenting the cheese sales,
Interviewed by Photoplay
Swigging at their Cocktails

The cheesemaking guild,
Saw that mites were on the bill,
The set their lawyers on the flick,
But the case it couldn't stick!

Music and Dancing in Egypt!

2011-01-29T16:13:00.005+01:00

There should be Music and Dancing in Egypt!

Barrack Ballad

2011-01-28T19:06:00.008+01:00

Sing a song of armies,
all fumbling in the dark,
shambling through the pine woods,
and camping in the park,
firing their cannons,
at the far off hills
Oh, to be a soldier boy,
and cure the nation's ills!

Sea Anemone

2011-01-28T19:01:00.004+01:00

Under the sea,
see,
the sea anemone,
with it's colourful display,
it looks so gay!

The Whaling Expedition

2011-01-28T18:50:00.005+01:00

Algy Slashrazor
with his Wilkinson sword
was the last of the pirates
to come shambling on board
but then, when he did, up went the plank,
and the Cheery Doxie set sail,
and got as far as Dogger Bank,
before meeting the White Whale!

A great White Whale it was an' all,
And they hunted it for oil,
and Algy took a slash at it,
with his Sheffield-crafted foil
but alas, and as you might expect,
it turned the tables on 'em yet,
And now they're all with Davey Jones,
The Cheery Doxie and all her men,
just algae-covered bones.

Jellied Heels

2011-01-28T18:45:00.003+01:00

The loach, the roach,
and sorry old Sam,
all left England,
because of West Ham

The league, the intrigue,
The scouts and the spies,
They stood in the pub,
and scoffed all the pies

The rockers, the knockers,
the girl from page three,
Crashed their new Bentleys
All in the same tree

The faces and touts,
and the flower-shirt gang,
At Wimbledon dog track,
got up and sang

The laddies, the cabbies,
The Vicar and Miss James,
Stood on the platform,
and yelled out their names

Sulla

2011-01-28T18:39:00.005+01:00

A sullen old bugger was Sulla,
Today he'd have made a good mullah!
Whoops! Oh no! A gaffe! A mistake!
A bad line just then..
Didn't mean to offend,
I was only trying to fit in a rhyme,
And at the time,
It was all I could phyme!

Waiting at The Chiropracter's

2011-01-28T18:30:00.006+01:00

A lovely treating room he has,
with diplomas and posters
all over the walls
Stimulating reading
As you wait around
for a good snapping,
you can admire
the full-colour intricacies
of atrophied
(Note: Ribbon-like)
nerves,
slipped discs and
the glorious list of etiologies
Down the hall you hear the beep
of credit cards shoved in slots
and the relieved footsteps
as the three-dimensional versions
of the chiropracter's posters
hobble off back to work.

Keep the Ball Rolling!

2011-01-28T15:40:00.001+01:00

Old Norwegian Tobacco Tin

2011-01-25T15:35:00.001+01:00

Montague Catapult

2011-01-24T07:29:00.004+01:00

Montague Catapult reads the Daily River
"Everybody seems to have a problem with their liver!"

Montague Catapult sighs a deep blue sigh
"Didn't know that everybody's just about to die!"

Montague Catapult crushes a cup of wine
"Better get some drinking done while we still have time!"

Montague Catapult smokes a cigarette
"Healthy, schmealthy, at least I'm not dead yet!"

Monkshoods

2011-01-23T21:34:00.005+01:00

In the forest depths
where the paths are
untrodden
see the pretty flowers
reddish, pinkish, purplish,
little bonnets
little monk's hoods
best left there
best left alone
All along the garage wall,
along the neighbour's driveway,
the same flowers grew
all over the place
(popular with the bees;
they were always buzzing)
the usual place
to lose a tennis ball
in among the monkshoods
children crawl

03:15

2011-01-23T21:30:00.004+01:00

There's no depth to that sink,
It's shallow and shines,
I top up my drink,
Adding water to wine

The tap-stream is thin,
As I top up the booze,
It splashes over the rim,
And on to my shoes

The shock of all this,
makes me fall to the wall,
Now it looks like I've pissed,
on my new overall

The 08:15

2011-01-22T23:19:00.003+01:00

Fog and rain
Bullet train

Urban landscape
Sellotape

Coffee, papers
Celebrity capers

Intercom voice
You have no choice

Station looms
Weather glooms!

A Bag of Gold!

2011-01-22T23:13:00.004+01:00

Our friend Max
in his wild youth
entered an underground car-park
after dark
with a baseball bat
and in a happy half-hour
did a bag of golds worth
of damage.

Max got stitched up for life
and spent the rest
on the lower tiers
scavangeing for coins
owing the world
a bag of gold
because his name
is still on file
in old insurance claims.

Specky Four Eyes

2011-01-20T13:03:00.005+01:00

My Dad told me about
"Specky Four Eyes"
who's real name is forgotten
but who was a skinny myopic
young man with a large pair
of cheap spectacles
with lenses that made his
eyes look large
and was just
"Specky Four Eyes"
and mocked heartlessly
by young and old alike
and who ended up dead
mangled by factory machinery
on his first week at the mill
and there were rumours
of horseplay gone wrong
and everybody felt
a tinge of guilt
and well, they were
wonderful, natural,
working-class folks
but it wasn't much of
a world offering
much of a life
for "Specky Four Eyes"

Venetian Blind

2011-01-20T12:58:00.003+01:00

It's probably like this
that we see the world a
bit like we peep through a
venetian blind
and it hurts our eyes
but we want to see
whats on the other side
but can only catch a
glimpse.

Birmingham and Liverpool

2011-01-13T20:11:00.005+01:00

Birmingham and Liverpool
competing in a sport so cruel
(it wasn't even bulls n'bears,
baited at at country fairs)
it will not here be revealed,
but easy to see what appealed,
it smacked of marmelade and jam,
in Liverpool and Birmingham

Ma Chévre

2011-01-13T20:09:00.003+01:00

High on a hill
stood a lonely
goatherd
and this Chévre
should have been
eaten
before
the fourth...

...but it's still
in the fridge
and there it
will remain...

...good n' goaty

Yodle-hey!

Along the rail

2011-01-13T20:07:00.002+01:00

A line of shirts.
None of them
especially
interesting.

Statistics!

2011-01-13T20:06:00.004+01:00

See, we have three graphs here;
one for the master,
one for the dame,
and one for you;
to brighten up your
dark little lane
with snazzy statistics!

Tweet!

2011-01-13T20:04:00.005+01:00

So a bird in a window says 'tweet',
and Lo and behold!
The young and the old
are madly dancing in the street!

Do the locomotion!

2011-01-13T20:02:00.003+01:00

Robert's Browning!

Motion sensors
force you
either to move
or
stay still.

It's be nice
to be younger
now.

Indestructable and
completely indifferent
to motion sensors.

Archetypes

2011-01-13T19:58:00.003+01:00

"And who behaved like this?"

"Oh, nobody. They're archetypes."

(Pause)

"That's a weasly answer, sir, and you're a weasly fellow, and I've a good mind to demand satisfaction!"

Sonny Rollins

2011-01-07T09:20:00.002+01:00

Red Nichols (1905-1965)

2011-01-06T09:39:00.007+01:00

Mas(h)terchef

2011-01-04T19:31:00.004+01:00

Saturday Night; Frisbee with Anchovies!

2011-01-04T19:20:00.003+01:00

Thank Me!

2011-01-04T12:47:00.003+01:00

Thank you, India!
Thank you, thank you!
Thank me, myself,
Don't you know,
I'm the ski-resort's
resident klepto!
I'm all self-enclosed
a curled up ball of me
like a dormouse!
My mind a champagne glass
thoughts like small
bursting bubbles..
Thank you, India!
Thank you and Goodnight!

Blazar!

2011-01-04T12:12:00.004+01:00

If you come bustin'
down Space Highway
In the fiery wake
Of sufferin' Quasar
When you slide in
The burnin' jet-spray
Know it's no fake
But a blazin' ol' Blazar!

When you're surfin'
In a cauldron o'gas
It's blisteringly hot
And the lights flicker
No sense in hidin'
Your sorry ol' ass
'Cos you're stuck in the spot
Like a super-glued sticker!

She doesn't know

2011-01-04T12:08:00.003+01:00

She doesn't really know today,
Leave her alone then, please,
She talks confusedly and slow,
Like she really doesn't know,
So just take your hat and go,
And close the door behind you,
We all know where to find you,
But not today, though,
Because she really doesn't know.

Skye, 1262

2011-01-04T11:59:00.003+01:00

Like cormorants descended,
the ships of Alexander;
men with axes and with fire,
fell upon the undefended,
planted there their Scottish standard,
in the shallow earth of Skye.

Burning in the wind; church and farms,
the little children to the sword,
punishment for the defenceless,
delivered by the cruellest arms,
to make them know their rightful lord,
The King of Scotland, none the less.

And so like his greater namesake,
Alexander conquers land.
On the pikes the weak are skewered,
burning hovels; ash by daybreak,
The King in far-off Edinburgh,
now the Suder Islands' steward.

The Sun and Captive Moon

2011-01-04T11:25:00.007+01:00

The sun
far off in the black sky
momentarily closer
gives off a blast of heat
that makes it's way
through space
to frozen Triton.

Just slightly
the temperature rises
on the surface
of Triton
the captive moon.

From under
the pocked surface
a slushy orgasm
bursts it's way
through a volcanic funnel
a plume of liquid
Nitrogen and Methane.

And as it moves away
from the sun
in eccentric orbit
vast Neptune
looms into view.

Vast Neptune
destined
to tear apart
Triton
the captive moon
with ice for lava.

Late July

2011-01-03T10:57:00.005+01:00

Hot summer nights by the lakeside.
A last dance beneath the Chinese lanterns.
Last chance now that time has caught up with us?

It's all pearls and backache, now,
vigour seems to be...lost?
No! By God it's lying there,
over there,
by the roadside.
Carelessly tossed.

Yes, yes, we are
pink and saggy,
but it's a glorious black night.

The small, quiet, sounds from the trees and the lake.
The slightly sour taste of cakes and Champagne.
The stockings on the floor; the hands reaching for large breasts in the dark.
The sighs entering the night air like tiny ripples.

Bob Sawyer's Meditation

2011-01-03T10:41:00.003+01:00

"The visitors having all departed, in compliance with the rather pressed request of Mrs. Raddle, the luckless Mr. Bob Sawyer was left alone, to meditate on the probable events of the morrow, and the pleasures of the evening." - Pickwick Papers, Charles Dickens

No hot water.
Not even that.

'Old Slasher' again tomorrow, though.

Mouth tastes of pickle.
The tongue feels like a calf's tongue
in a butcher's shop window...

calf head

Punch in a bowl.
Punch for the people.
Old Punch.
Punch and Judy with a twist;
here, in these digs,
more like Judy and Punch.

Got a punch from Judy tonight, alright.
Chased 'em all home, the harridan.

Blue smoke; a paper of cheap cigars,
a little wicker basket full of unshucked oysters;
a half full bottle of cheap brandy.

A few memories.

Pink Anchors; loud voices at vingt-et-un; threats
of pullen noses.

That's be grand! A pinch, a punch, a push and a pull;
why, t'would bring the bailiffs in.
Boots up.
Must try to sleep.
'Old Slasher' again tomorrow.

Good Ol' Slasher!

Gets us all in the end.

The Bed

2011-01-03T10:31:00.004+01:00

Along the river,
up the bank,
over the top of the hill
is a field.

A lush green field
stretching in all directions.

In the corner of the field
stands a large,
brass-framed, double-bed
complete with matress and duvet.

She lies on her back on the bed,
her long, stringy red hair
spread out across the pillow.

He sits on his heels,
halfway down the matress;
his long, thin, fair hair falling
across his face.

Her freckled knees can't
quite reach his shoulders.

The bedsprings creak in fast rhythm.

The Archives

2010-12-07T22:25:00.006+01:00

Miles and miles and miles
Of jolly old national archives

The dockside bird-poisoner,
Tossing his bits of rat poison-soaked loaf,
To the seagulls,
He looks a bit like that guy,
With a cap and jersey,
In Un homme et une femme.

I may have them mixed up;
time to check the archives.

Blues legend Paul Butterfield,
When not playing the harmonica,
Or singing Shake Your Money Maker,
Wrote The Whig Interpretation of History?
I may have crossed my wires,
I may have mixed something up.

Time to check the archives.