I enjoyed attending my mate Reg's cider and magic fuelled Full Moon Shape Alignment Ceremony up on the Rhogo, near Llandrindod the other night. Funny old bunch there like, a bit more rowdy than the Kington lot, but I did get talking to an interesting lady named Mavis. Once I'd got past the beard thing and peculiarly stained Radiohead T-shirt, I found her to be enchanting company, if a bit djankled around the veins. As I was leaving - hoping to catch last orders at The Llanerch - she pressed a tattered, slightly foul smelling leaflet into my hands look. It was titled 'The Space Between Sevens' and I've copied a small section below for your enjoyment:
"Greetings dear beloved inter-dimensional after-dinner knee shanty correspondents...
We are wangle free shiny, Austin TX, the "thing", forming a central pie within that resonates rubbery coincidences, conical contact and compassionate rubbing.
We wish to make clear to you that your connected rods and gaseous displacements can be extended from behind certain curtains, to make valve gears for thermoceptive and olfactory enhancements, providing, of course, they do not compromise my sacred "Hillage Temples" and cause oblique tremens in the crystal shaking delirium of amorphous ice look.
It is important to recognise that the sacred collective of crisp filters through Hairport realms will help facilitate your movement in shape, and in ways that may appear contradictory from a 'contakulation' perspective.
Hold that from the perspective behind another curtain - and it is apparent that the local farmers that emit bobbing fluids/wavey and the legions space tractors transmitting black gases work towards the same end thing; to help stimulate the extreme ledges whereby local residues encased within 'shape defined connections' can usher in material levers via Kwiksave."
There's a few more pages here look, I'll put those on later...but it's all starting to make sense to me now. Anyway I've got a big pot of tea in front of me that needs drinking, and Clive James is on the telly in a bit.
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You mean Mavis, the enchanting female you met, seriously had a beard and stained T-shirt? (Love the rich descriptions!)
ReplyDeleteI love that term: "inter-dimensional" (in relation to "metaphysical") and shall have to meditate on its meaning a bit more deeply for all its meanings.
Looking up the word "INTER" on dictionary.com I came up with these fascinating descriptions:
"INTER": 1. to place (a dead body) in a grave or tomb; bury. 2. Obsolete. to put into the earth.
This is a "small section"? Actually, I read about this Mavis lady in the Stranger than Fiction section of Museum News, just last week. It seems she is entering into a cohabitational fixed position curatorship with our soon-to-be ex-president, George, The Last (we hope). The contractural agreediments were arraigned by George, The Last's, possibly almost ex-wife, Laura, The Fedup (not to be confused with Laura, The Fedex). Ms. Mavis will be housed, contakulationally, in an office in the maintenance section of the New Bushy Library...which is, BTW, sans books...with words.
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