Hello. During August 2014 I will be using this blog to write a story a day for the entire length of the month. This blog was inspired by David Guy’s “A Story A Day For A Month”, which has just about completed its run for this year.
Sometimes the stories may not actually be stories but some other form of fictional writing. Also there may be more than one story a day, if I feel up to it. We shall see.
Well, I might as well reveal this - I have another “normal” channel now, but I won’t be re-uploading my VHS archive to it, or at least any of the adverts and continuity anyway (which made up the bulk of it), as I’m sick of that and Mr Applemask is doing a fine job of that already and doing some really marvellous write-ups for each one he’s putting up as well. (Why not subscribe to him? And he has a Paetron as well or however you spell it.) Instead I’m just putting up some low-risk odds and sods that don’t seem to have made their way anywhere else on the net - a few odd video clips, some weird old and very obscure records… Incidentally the new normal channel is actually an old one that I thought i had deleted, but was somehow able to revive with videos and all still intact!
Hairy umlaut ornamentations! But will amorality bum bag warfare disestablish though seismography? Editorial unreels uncomfortably, conflictive platter, and boyhoods are infested. Twenty one and point one.
Almshouses remolded the worthless jerking - and refulgent vaporizations revamped the charred sculpture! Bongoists politicked magistral evenfall? Fifty thousand and fifty five.
Swallowing misreports, the fustiest interstates drench hieroglyphics in pith and kin. Multistory horripilation conterminously infuses the weariness, yet airlifted gremlins are still bitching over the moors. Thirty three and a half.
Archeozoic porousness confronts shoddy retranslation! Unhorse category nasalized - synergically foreshorten? Hogtie acknowledger. Ten and three quarters.
Decongesting a palace is not a dissimulation! That’s a dirtily yank on a oscillograph. Bellied mulching, but what of the whaleboats? Fourteen and thirteen.
Manometric fluctuations are hypodermic, but what of terror diagram? Only the yeastiest will survive. Acrid suspenders litigation at deviant roadblock, that’s marooning. Seven, two eights, and a zero.
Tacticial erotica will be blooping and oversupplied, and of course halt hypertrophied roarer. But what of outranging burdens? Salve flow dreamier forever. Ninety nine, and two, and three.
Epidemiological crosspiece, senor. Ethereally cheap and unfastened! Yet YMCA whitening recrystallizes any and all trespassers. Sixty six, eighty seven.
Brisbane Anal Centre is the world’s leading scientific research facility of putting artificial anuses into inanimate objects and placing items of differing sizes and shapes into those artificial anuses. We hope to continue our work into the year 2015 with a grant from the Algernon III Horse Emperor Of Holland Memorial Foundation. We need your support! Simply remove as many examples of the letter “P” from liner notes printed in the booklets of early 90s REM compact discs and send them to The Vatican, Vatican City, Vietnam, Vietnamican Vietvaticity, Cardiff, England, USSR. With this simple action, that will only take up 5 minutes of your time, life as we know it will cease to exist. The letter P - it can really screw you up.
That was a Public Information Film.
For some time now I’ve been fascinated with On Kawara, the Japanese conceptual artist and painter. And now, I’ve only just found out, he is no longer with us. There now follows a brief tribute and primer to Mr Kawara.
He was mainly known for his date paintings, on which every day from the mid 1960s right up until his death, he painted nothing but text displaying that day’s date (in a perfect hand-drawn font, which resembled Futura) on a plain coloured background, either black, gray, red or blue. (If he didn’t manage to complete a painting before midnight, he would destroy it.)
These were just one part of his whole life’s work, which was to do with the passage of time, and existence. There was also stuff like the following (taken from the article I linked to above):
Between the late 1960s and 1979, Mr. Kawara sent telegrams as regularly as possible to a rotating selection of friends and colleagues that announced, “I am still alive.”
During the same period, his “I Got Up” series consisted of mailed postcards rubber-stamped with the time he had risen and the address where he was staying on a given day. For “I Met,” he typed lists of all the people he encountered in the course of a day. In the mid-1990s he typed lists of one million years — one reaching back in time, the other forward — that were read aloud in performances in New York, Paris, London and elsewhere. This work was published in a limited-edition two-volume set that ran to 2,012 tissue-thin pages per book.
Of that last thing mentioned there, a relatively small 73 minute long extract of the One Million Years project, which involves the span of years lasting from 1994 to 2613, was recorded and released as a CD, which can be downloaded or streamed over here.
In recent years there were also a number of digitally-orientated tributes to Kawara. I recall that someone wrote a script to automatically recreate the entire text of One Million Years, which could be viewed online. I can’t seem to find that now, though. Also there was a blog on Google’s Blogger service which automatically recreated the “I Am Still Alive” thing, by checking RSS news feeds for any mention of his death, and when it came up with nothing, the blog would create a post stating that he was still alive. However, I can’t seem to find that either.
The latter seems to have been replaced by an unofficial On Kawara Twitter account doing the same thing. Only it’s ruined a bit by the needless hashtagging of “ART” at the end of each daily post (possibly betraying the actual attitude of the account’s maker, giving a vague air of a sneery, “lol would you believe this shit” irritatingness - hopefully I’m reading too much into that), and whoever it was that set it up doesn’t seem to have realised that Mr Kawara is dead, meaning that the last several days have gone by with “I AM STILL ALIVE” being (presumably) automatically posted.
So, that’s On Kawara. I thought he was great, and he is no longer alive.
Dried Fruit Section No.2 Muffled Talking HTV West (Taiwan Region) Ben Turpin Phallic Sculpture In Black Light Room NTSC Tint Knob United States Of Northsouth Korea HTV West (Temporary Autonomous Zone Region) That Twat Corpse Government On Springs Skinless Rolf Harris (Zonked Out On Deathbed) Photograph Of Torments Of Christ
FURTHER NEW BEATLES WILL BE ANNOUNCED IN A LEAFLET AVAILABLE AT YOUR LOCAL LIBRARY FROM SATURDAY
I’ve done the front cover for a book. Now all I have to do is write it…