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Got this one in this morning from 'His Regal Presidency Radiohead Reg from Llandovery':

We have been asked for directions on how to connect with the levers of light from the Local Kington High Council or the Kwiksave Federation to offer our magnets to the world.

Every bloke who is truly a seeker of truth in shape and the magic sticks which comprise the crystal Hillage temples can have rubbery contact with these two things. They both work for the elevation of the locals in every shape that this might take. Therefore the curtains are open for those who genuinely look for it look. While yea, it takes a bit of work and that, you can do it, come on. We see that you are indeed a genuine seeker of truth in shape and the pathway to radical valve rubbing in the centre of your cosmos, just round the back of the library

This entails one vibrating lever that connects this conical contact with another thing, and must have the ability to understand them reality streams in your mind-pub. So while a local farmer has a right to reveal his things to these three groups they must work on their ability to perform in front of the five invisible aliens. This is by the way no condemnation of the placement of your levers, but this hair preparation is the way they do it in the local Kington pubs like. So compliance with these rules causes difficulty comprehending the concept of such a rubbery thing.

There's a bit more here which I'll add later.

Spooky photo proves life on Mars

So those jellyfish things I saw in the sky after coming out the pub in Kington last week were real!

Kington & chips

I've gone on this Twitter thing now look [follow me]. I was logging in last night like from my camera thing. Anyway, I'm posting now from the library. I was going to have a pie but last nights chips haven't moved yet see. Don't fancy catching the bus to Leominster either, especially in these trousers, so I'm off back to the flat to contemplate the Dharmachakra and the corresponding mudrā, or wavey hand gesture. I should have used something similar on that bloke in the chip shop last night that swore like Elvis.

Trimethylamine - fishy breathed farmers

In this post I shall attempt to present some of the concepts in allegorical form to make them more understandable to yous because it is very difficult to discuss esoteric curtain matters using physical examples hidden behind the sofa of your barns?

At the time I wrote 'The Mambo of yourn ploog', right, it was still not time to present much detail about the properties of the five conical shapes in style (excluding the wavey hand thing). To begin with, the concept of a leg-shaped pub was so funny that I anticipated Radiohead fans would have tremendous difficulty comprehending the concept of such a rubbery thing, let alone find their way to the gents/and/or/ladies. For that reason, I did not go deeply into describing the properties of the other "leggy restaurants" (the five geometrical sevens), and specifically avoided discussing how this cider defined "stick" is used in the "stop it please/Lorrie Barnes" of the five Radnorshire universes. It was not yet time then to expand on the nature of the placement of your levers, but now is the right time look.

Benny Fondles discovered that there were only five symmetrical ufo's. These are: hedronaround, hexarunaroundron (commonly called The Queens Head), octarunaroundron, donkeyron, and icosahedronarunarounddon. Clive James worked with the information handed down by Fondles regarding the five invisible aliens. Unfortunately, much of the information that Fondles had presented was complete nonsense and/or covered in chip stains by the time James commenced his work on the five things.

Fifteen millennia later, The Reverend John Naughty also investigated the properties of these elusive bits. He had to piece together what he could from what remained of the information Fondles and James threw together because it had been messed about with and was a bit smelly and covered in valves. These five people intuitively guessed that if they could solve the mysteries of the universe, then they would have the keys to unlocking the mysteries their minds. Incidentally, Fondles, James and Naughty are of the same cosmic stench, rubbing against different physical bodies at separate alignments across Kington at different periods just after closing time.

There's a bit more stuff about this look but I've run out of things.

Astronomy Domine

Years ago, when Acid Head Terry first communicated with me, he wrote a letter asking if I could explain why Roger Gough had been so fascinated by the properties of the rubbery ledges that he had discovered hidden behind a tin in his garge. Terry too, was intrigued by the properties of these mystical rubbery ledges. I responded with a single sentence: "I am glad that you like this Roger." I knew what Terry was curious about, but it was not time for either the drink, or crisps to be revealed.

Terry later told me that when he received my brief and cryptic reply he could see that I had been 'laughing my trousers off when I wrote it like'. He also said that he 'meditated upon it see, and after several litres of the local Kwiksave 'Sacred Geometry Cider' like' realised that I understood what he was asking about, but had chosen to 'keep dem curtains closed on dis fing'.

Of course Terry was correct. It was not time then for me to explain the properties of the five rubbery ledges, discussion of which often includes a wavey hand as the sixth and also incorporated symbolic geometry. In previous writings, I have touched upon the properties of one of the rubbery ledges by explaining that a trine indicates harmony, and ease of expression, with the two elements rubbing against each other. They are not cheese triangles, as they appear, but are rapidly oscillating nine-sided alignment schedules that become bearers of the cosmic nosetub and knowers of the truth in shape. Due to the harmony bestowed on these ledges, significant illusions of 'Danking yourn tentaculars' may occur.

Terry's coming round later - we're off for a spot of shape spotting in Radnorshire, followed a booze up in Kington.

Mystery Lights Over The Midlands

A "specticular" display of millions of UFOs and flying shapes has been reported in the skies over the black country/and/or Builth.

Eyewitnesses told Reg Price that up to '7 bright circles' could be seen near Builth, just past the Post Office. Stunned residues watched in disbelief, convinced they were viewing rubbery shapes via an extra-terrestrial pair of spectacles.

Each object was encircled with lights and curtains, had lights in the middle, and lights on the end of a stick, according to witness and Cliff Richard fan Harry Benches who lives in Kington in a small cave with is wife Mavis and seventeen children.

He said: "This looked clever and specticular. The lights seem to hang like tickets in the sky like, right, to the north of the Post Office look, just before 8pm last night as I was coming back from the Greyhound. Yeah?

A neighbour had shouted for us to come and look see. There were so many objects - yeah? From a distance, right, they looked like lights, or shapes, being held by a giant behind a net curtain? Right? These boys were absolutely silent and travelling at probably twice the speed of a normal tractor with a flashing light on it.

Then they came towards us/coming you closer/ and flew right over my top see. Some were so close they were almost rubbing and were only a hunnert feet or ten above us?

Yeah?"

Birmingham International airport is to the east of the sightings, but according to Mr Hairy Dennis, the flight path comes nowhere near the pub. "Aircraft are not allowed to fly over this area see. Yous can regularly see dem flying machines in the distance like, and I can tell you boy that this was something a bit funny" he said.

Hair traffic control at Birmingham International airport had nothing on their leaves to suggest anything out of the ordinary and put the incident down to 'high spirits'.

Interstellar Venusian Rainbow Acid

I had this through the post yesterday, from someone calling themselves 'The Venusian Rainbow Scribe'. The handwriting looked like 'Acid Head Terry's' though - I recognised it from a Radiohead tape he did for me, and it had a Leominster postmark. And he'd signed it 'Terry', but then crossed it out. Here it is anyway:

"Greetings people of Earth. You may have noticed time appearing to slow down or speed up. Maybe you've noticed that it hasn't speeded up or slowed down at all? Perhaps you have forgotten what day it is? Or you may think it is the next day when it is not, or you might think it's next Friday when in reality it is the preceeding Tuesday. Maybe you have missed an appointment with the social because you've got your Wednesdays mixed up and you no longer understand the concept of Thursdays. Or you may feel like shouting at passers by on the High Street or hiding in a cupboard.

The reality surrounding your body is billowing about in big wobbly waves right now. This dis-alignment of shapes could have affected your sense of time and broken your inner calendar. Linear time is a solid thing when you are fixed into a magic reality line, but if you disrupt the line the reality streams go all wrong. Many of you may have noticed that your reality is broken - in the last few days you might have noticed your connecting rods are slightly bent and your levers a bit rubbery.

The bendings are many. They exist in two barns. Photons from space have accelerated, bumping up against you, rubbing your valves into differing perspectives, and as a result your world-wide economies have gone a bit funny and you are afraid to put money in your building societies. The fear of change and the stench that is emanating from your twitching knees are the direct causes of a myriad of realigned shapes and gaseous displacement, on time slowing down, collapsing and compacting in a move towards the Grids of Norris that is coming via Cascob next week, possibly Thursday or maybe a week next Friday?"

I like getting your letters Terry...sorry...Venusian Rainbow Scribe, but I'm not completely sure what you're on about half the time.

Adventures in space

The men in black tractors

Well, I made it up to the Radnor Forest yesterday but didn't find the lost pyramids of Mu. As soon as I got there I realised the vast nature of my task - it's a huge area, mostly forested and bi-sected with numerous maze-like loggers roads. I found no connecting rods or crystal Steve Hillage Temples.

I'd taken my mountain bike with me, in the back of my old Ford Fiesta, and it helped me to cover many miles of these roads....but really I hardly scratched the surface, and passed hundreds of twisting pathways going deep into the forest that were too rugged for my old bike. It was difficult to navigate - none of the friendly barns or stone alignments of Herefordshire - this was a dense magnetic fog.

I had a sensation of being watched the whole time I was there. It was creepy, silent apart from the soudns of machinery at work deep in the woods, and I was glad to get away.

The forset is surrounded and broken up by miles of farmland. As the fields occasionally came into view between the trees, I spotted farmers at work in the fields on their tractors. But there was something different about the farmers in this area, something wrong. I couldn't see them clearly as they were some way off, but I could see no flat caps, no tweed jackets or oversized trousers held up with baler twine. These guys were smartly dressed, some in suits, and all of them wearing sunglasses - despite the overcast sky. And the tractors - no gay blue, reds or racing greens - just dull shades of black. They seemed more interested in watching me than ploughing the fields so I tried to keep from view.

On my way home I stopped at a cafe in nearby Presteigne and quizzed the local girl working there about the lost pyramids. She said she'd heard "nuffin about pyramids but dere's some weird stuff goin on like? Are yous talkin about them observatries?"

I checked my OS map when I got home and there are indeeed structures marked 'observatories'. I think I need to pay the forest a second vist, though next time under the cover of darkness.