Inspiring Creativity

As ever, the energy and enthusiasm of Star Wars fans astounds me. These guys have built their own Jabba that WORKS - with room for two people inside.

Go look.

Amazing.

We (the original crew) have met a static Jabba at CE
and Elvis Trooper tells me he has been working with one in The States


And, of course, there was the amazing life-size origami Jabba at C3, from Chris Alexander at Star Wars Origami.

So Far, So What?

I have kept my number count up for three days now, but the NaNoWriMo server seems swamped. I can hardly ever get into it...especially when America is awake! Like now - 7:30 pm on the West Coast, 10:30 pm on the East).

That's a shame, as I wanted to browse the forums, having hit my target for the day.

I thought the sluggish response could be caused by my PC, or my ISP, but when I did get in one time I could see they had had an unexpected number of hits on Day One, and admitted the server was struggling.

This evening I haven't even got close...

I did come across something more accessible, i.e. NaBloWriMo - which involves posting to your blog every day for a month. It seems weird to pick the same month, as I need to trim my 'other writing projects and exercises' in order to just hit the original target.

Hey ho.

Still, you can always go listen to CS&N on the old (ahem!) hippies page

Just write the damned book!

Last year a fellow student at MLA told me about writing a novella in a month...a small community project has grown to a gigantic web event, with thousands of participants, so this year I decided to kick in and start, at least...

To write 50,000 words in 30 days means 1,666.666666 words per day...

I have done a set for Day One (so far so good) and you can find me over at NaNoWriMo under my avatar name of BogusMagus.

I suspect my lack of invention, and the fact that I have found my life stranger than fiction means that I probably will end up writing a roman a clef (a thinly disguised set of autobiographical events, and real people) but that may come as no surprise if you realise how much I enjoyed Henry Miller when younger. He, rather than (say) the mournful and forlorn Kerouac, gave me the courage to cheerfully plunge into poverty and insecurity in pursuit of a creative life. Miller didn't have a mum to go home to (like Kerouac) or a small allowance arriving every month (like Burroughs) but had to scrounge, beg, borrow, hustle and steal to get by. Actually, he probably exaggerated his lowlife credentials, in fictionalising his life, but there remains the ring of truth (even if Feminists destroyed interest in his work in the 70s, by putting him down as a male chauvinist). Actually, (apart from mistaking the character for the man), they seem to have missed his role in getting rid of censorship, which began the process of truly debating in real language about people's needs, and made honest writing possible. But hey, I don't want to start all that here.

Don't think of it as too late to start, or plan ahead for next year. Why not register anyway, to get access to the support, advice, forums, etc? I intend to give it a try, at least - and with no judges, no cost, etc - what's to lose?

Who The Hell Am I?

Identity Theft. Over there, until it happens to you. One co-worker used a cash machine and ended up with her account emptied in Italy. Another had an enquiry about a purchase on a credit card, to find someone was cheerfully buying things with his card.

I went offline for these few days, only to find that someone has posted some mixing desks on my eBay profile, presumably by hacking the Gmail address that links to the profile. I think that was the bad security (feeble password) because when I went into that particular Gmail account all the controls displayed as little square boxes.

I thought it was corrupted so it took me a little while to figure out that someone had been reading it in a font that I don't have loaded on my PC.

So whatever alien lifeform hacked my feeble password, and then used the account to post some items on eBay, doesn't appear to have gained anything. But I don't feel certain of that. :-(

If anyone bought the item (s) how would they pay? I'd get it if they did it through PayPal and the eBay account. I don't mind receiving £13,000 in error! :-)

eBay caught it real quick, and cancelled the items, etc - and say they returned any fees deducted (!) - which must have only been in the form of an invoice, because they don't seem to have gone into PayPal to take money from my card without my agreement. (!)

Weird shit, but I think (crossing my fingers) that changing the passwords, and so on, will suffice. I don't particularly want to cancel or delete the accounts, but would happily do so...

Talk about picking pockets... Unsafe wherever you go!

Off the radar

Just a quick update for anyone who wondered where I vanished to - outside the Blackberry signal range, and the BB battery died, so I can't even just walk to the top of the nearest hill, etc.

We did just get internet on in the cottage, and I've been here most of a week. Wonderful place. Birds galore, and I eventually found a place I can walk the dog off the lead (far too many sheep, ducks, goats, etc around to let him run around free like a city hooligan).

I have done a little work, but not much. Julie hammers on with DIY jobs, and we had her sister and two nephews here as well, so (with some huffing and puffing and sighing) some stuff got done. Unfortunately I don't just count as lazy and impractical, but also as on my first holiday of the year, so I have tried to get some chilling time in around all the 'stuff to do'....I have never been much of a car polisher on a Sunday...I have little vanity of possessions (beyond washing my clothes) and so don't have any desperate drive to make the place rentable/habitable. Despicable of me, I guess, but I prefer the idea of spending November trying to write a book.

Each to their own, and mine has always been to let other people do the work, in exchange for 'owning the place'.

Rent a place, and the landlord has to unblock the drain (in theory, although some act rather slowly) - own it, and they're all your problem (s)

I used to trade more energy in these situations, (always volunteered to help people move stuff, etc) but I got a bit old and lame in the last couple of years...and the RSI (or whatever it is) in right shoulder puts me right off jobs like painting and scrubbing. It hurts, and doesn't seem to get any better, and I guess I should find a physio ASAP - then I would have no excuse.

How feeble is that? I am typing here, as Julie scrubs the bedroom floor with something, before adding anti-woodworm something (yup, we got woodworm, apparently), and all that. I have lit the fire. And changed a light bulb, and emptied the vacuum cleaner and fed the dog and stuff. I don't just sit here watching tv and applauding. But I feel I may never live up to expectations, really.

Cheering Myself Up, Cheering Myself On

A Home Ower

Well, I just got a call to say that I 'am' (apparently) a 'home owner' (or what I call a 'home ower' - i.e. the bank owns a house, and if I promise to pay three times what it's currently 'worth' over the next 25 years without ever defaulting then I get to live there, or rent it to other people). Otherwise, they'll take it back.

You can see I don't get the concept, really. Wrong generation, perhaps, although even the people from my generation who built a house of cards would understand, and call it 'owning' something.

Money Magic

It's too much like magick for me. One day I have no money, no resources, no credit, no future, and then I sign a piece of paper (an IOU) and suddenly I join the propertied classes. NOT. In the movies, various mobs and mafias buy and sell debts, and then bully luckless and reckless gamblers into doing their dirty work, as the interest ticks higher and higher, and time gets shorter and shorter, and the IOU gets waved under their nose.

Check out Vulture Funds - for such people's approach to Third World Debt (buy the debt cheap, before it gets written off, and then sue for the total amount plus interest).

Somewhere to Write

Anyway, I mustn't rant on. Julie asked me to co-sign, and she's over the moon about owning a cottage in the hills. Shame she's partnered by such a miserable old buffoon. She assures me that Big Eric won't come around to kneecap me if I default, or fall into negative equity. I guess it could give me a place to write (finally) and walk the dog, and dream away. I just haven't even seen it yet!

Not yer typical Guardian Reader

I get a similar sort of sensation when I read The Guardian (which I do). I like intelligence, I like the total lack of language censorship, I like a loosely 'liberal' agenda - but I just guffaw when I read about the price people are willing to spend on clothes (this jacket's a snip at £349), wine (a cheeky little wine, and very reasonable at 14.99 per bottle, or £150 for a crate) or holidays (for only £3500 you and a loved one can spend 2 weeks on a luxury cruise - or, in The Guardian, perhaps exploring the ruins of Ancient China). Anything with more than one zero at the end makes me anxious, anything with more than two zeroes on the end make me panic, so numbers with 3 or 4 zeroes on the end (let alone 6-digit numbers) just throw me into denial.

Still, perhaps, to you, I sound like that paradoxical person - the homeless, scruffy bloke sitting on the floor, with a hat in front of him, outside Starbucks, reading The Guardian, and saying "Spare £2.50 for a cup of coffee, guv?"

Anyway.

Writing Online

I amuse myself when I write, at least - as I have no social life to speak of, and hardly ever sit around with people having a laugh these days. Most of my idea of funny just sounds grumpy and ungrateful to people, I guess. My heroes still include Diogenes the Cynic (you can read my take on that wonderful old anarchic and bohemian 'world citizen' in a piece I wrote for MQ called "Giving Cynicism A Bad Name"). You can find all my Maybe Writing in the Imperfect Index under BogusMagic. Or I have started listing my attempts on the website...under Writing.

Still obsessed with the money rant

Amusing Stats:

Remarkably, statistics from Creditaction suggest that only 51% of the British population know the balance on their credit cards and 46% have no idea what interest rates they pay on debts and accounts or what they receive on savings.

Such a cavalier attitude to fiscal planning may explain why personal debt as a proportion of income has risen from 105% in 1997 to 164% in 2006; this is the highest level ever recorded in the UK and the highest in the developed world. By mid 2007 total UK personal debt was £1,345 billion and total mortgages/secured lending reached £1,131 billion.

Things people bad at numbers do not know:

For example, a £1,000 balance at an APR of 14.9% would take 19 years 7 months to clear and cost £1,116 in interest if paid back at a monthly minimum 2% level. Paying back at 3% each month brings the time down to 11 years 7 months and the interest paid to £545.

If you're so clever, why aren't you rich?

The classic snide line said to me, as the 60s kicked in, with the slogan Live Now, Pay Later to describe Hire Purchase (as they called shopping on credit then). In fact, (well, until today), as I didn't owe anybody anything I felt (looked at through my lens) richer than virtually everyone else in the country. They owed a fortune, and I hovered around zero (plus or minus £100). So how come I remain in the poverty group, and they all take holidays in The Bahamas?

A Rigged Game

No, I still don't get it. I may measure 'smart' on IQ quizzes, but I have no street smarts at all. I feel queasy at the mere thought of usury, and have always known that money is a rigged game where the 'bank' or 'casino' always wins by creaming off a chunk of the turnover, and then share out the rest among 'winning' and 'losing' punters. But gamblers don't expect to lose. I expect to lose. I don't have the fantasy that I win the lottery. If I buy a lottery ticket I just think of it as throwing money into someone else's hat.

Good Luck, mate!

I posted some of Tony Allen's material on the forum, which people whooped and yelled about...he delivered it in the 90s, but it seems just as topical now as it did then. I heard his act frequently, and it always made me laugh, and feel like someone sane had finally turned up on this god-forsaken planet (to get to hear the act a few times, without paying, I worked on the door for him a few times).

Running on Empty

I realise that I don't post here as regularly as I used to. I meant to take the last couple of months to start drafting my own book, but still find that the day job, followed by doggie walking, followed by Circus Arts Forum work online, tends to leave me only an hour or two to choose between having a bath, watching a bit of tv, drinking a glass or two of wine, and just flaking out.

I haven't yet taken the famous "two week holiday" that most 9-5 people do. The few days leave I took just freed me up to go on a hectic jaunt to Belgium (that was fun, but tiring), and a disappointing gig in London. Hardly a 'rest'.

You'd think that I'd have learned by now, but even coming up to the tenth year of a 'steady job' I still don't understand how it works, or how best to distribute my time. All those years as a freelance gave me so much time (here and there, between hard-working sections) that I now understand why career people seem to have (by my standards) hardly read any books. I'd get through five a week. This came from a combination of plenty of spare time, not driving but using public transport (and so reading instead of concentrating on not killing anyone), etc. Now I hardly even find time to clean the house...

Or have I just got used to having plenty of energy, and failed to notice that I already turned 60? Born twenty years earlier, I'd be dead by now! I really do feel more like a pipe and slippers by the fire would suit me better - a glasss of port, a good book, a velvet smoking jacket, I can see it now! I wish people would stop re-assuring me (someone said the other day that "50 is the new 40". Easy for them to say, as they just reached their 40th birthday. I did that back in 1986!

Hey ho. Julie has grand plans for country living, and early retirement, and I place myself in her capable hands. I remain as glum (when I get up) as ever, and as cheerful (once I have got into gear) as ever. By temperament I feel like a pessimist, but I have adopted the strategy of optimism from a sense of surreal absurdity. If everything seems crazy and pointless, you might as well have a reckless good time...and Bucky and RAW assure me that optimism does at least offer the possibility of positive outcomes - nothing much gets achieved by pessimists!

Money As Debt

Moving on from the Credit Crunch post I made the other day, I'd like to post in this video called Money As Debt by Paul Grignon. I can never get people interested in Monetary Reform, but perhaps if you spend 47 minutes with this we could start a conversation?



More Resources on the Money As Debt page.

Only Maybe

In continuation from previous post, I suspect that my shrug annoys people a lot, and they mistake my study group for a bunch of people who can't make up their minds!

The Maybe Logic Academy has nothing to do with indecisiveness ("Do you want to go to the party?" "Maybe, I'll see if I feel like it nearer the time" "Grrr, just say Yes or No!") and more to do with realizing that the world does not easily resolve into Good/Bad, Right/Wrong, Left/Right, etc, etc. The concerted attack on false certainty that we mount has more to do with preferring if people showed a little humility in their judgement, and accepted the possibility that other views might prove equally valid or more likely, etc.

"Maybe the evangelical religions start most of the wars"..."maybe human activity causes global warming" (it seems fairly likely that it contributes to it) "maybe smoking causes cancer"...

Stated that way, investigation and the assignment of probabilities becomes possible. "Maybe aliens visit our planet" "maybe the rich and powerful are actually giant lizards" (low probabilities, but not impossibilities, in my view). "Maybe there 'is' a God". Of course, then we have to query the word 'is'. Korzybski, and General Semantics, tackled this very subject.

You could also say 'in my opinion', or 'from my point of view' to acknowledge that looking out from your particular nervous system, with your own set of past experiences, and through the grid of your language and culture...such and such a thing may appear 'true' (well, very probable), to you.

A Chinese farmer had just one horse, and one day it ran away. The villagers all said how unlucky he was.

"Maybe," he said.

A few days later, his horse returned, leading a herd of wild horses into his corral.

The villagers all exclaimed how lucky he was.

"Maybe," he said.

Having so many horses around encouraged his rather reckless son to learn to ride, and he fell off and broke his leg.

The villagers told the man how unlucky he was.

"Maybe," he said.

Shortly after that a war broke out in a distant province, and all the able-bodied young men got sent off to fight. Thanks to the broken leg, the farmer's son was excluded from call-up.


Robert Anton Wilson expressed all this a lot more clearly than I can - both in his writing and in interviews. Here's a sample:

Maybe Logic is a label that got stuck on my ideas by filmmaker Lance Bauscher. I decided it fits. I certainly recognize the central importance in my thinking -- or in my stumbling and fumbling efforts to think -- of non-Aristotelian systems. That includes von Neumann's three-valued logic [true, false, maybe], Rappoport's four-valued logic [true, false, indeterminate, meaningless], Korzybski's multi-valued logic [degrees of probability.] and also Mahayana Buddhist paradoxical logic [it "is" A. it "is" not A, it "is" both A and not A, it "is" neither A nor not A].

But, as an extraordinarily stupid fellow, I can't use such systems until I reduce them to terms a simple mind like mine can handle, so I just preach that we'd all think and act more sanely if we had to use "maybe" a lot more often. Can you imagine a world with Jerry Falwell hollering "Maybe Jesus 'was' the son of God and maybe he hates Gay people as much as I do" -- or every tower in Islam resounding with "There 'is' no God except maybe Allah and maybe Mohammed is his prophet"?

The Snafu law holds that, the greater your power to punish, the less factual feedback you will receive. If you can fire people for telling you what you don't want to hear, you will only hear what you want. This law seems to apply to all authoritarian contraptions, especially governments and corporations. Concretely, I suspect Bozo knows factually less about the world than any dogcatcher in Biloxi.

The Cosmic Schmuck law holds that [1] the more often you suspect you may be thinking or acting like a Cosmic Schmuck, the less of a Cosmic Schmuck you will become, year by year, and [2] if you never suspect you might think or act like a Cosmic Schmuck, you will remain a Cosmic Schmuck for life.

Oh Really?

I have always had a rather quietist approach to life, trying to accept both highs and lows without attachment. My heroes remain people like Hakuin. I should rework the story in my own words, but will act lazy for now, and just grab one online version:

There was a great Zen Master Hakuin who lived in a small hut, doing zazen. He was greatly revered in the village and known as a wise and saintly man. One day a village girl became pregnant. The father of the baby left town and she was alone and frightened. As she did not know what else to do, she told the entire village that Master Hakuin was the father.
All the townspeople were shocked. They stopped bringing food and offerings. Instead of praising Haikuin now they blamed him.
"You are the worst of all beings," they said.
"Is that so?" replied Hakuin.
The baby was born then the village girl brought the child to Hakuin to be cared for. "This baby is yours," she said. "Is that so?" Hakuin said and took the baby gladly.
Hakuin cared for the baby lovingly for several years. Then, one day, the father of the baby returned to the village and wanted to marry the mother and take back the baby. They told everybody the truth about what happened.
The people were astonished. They all began to praise Master Hakuin and return to his hut with offerings.
"Is that so?" said Master Hakuin.
Soon after that the couple returned for the baby. "Is that so?" Master Hakuin murmured and gave them their child lovingly.

Such an approach to life does not endear me to the pro-active, ambitious modern type of person at all, at all. I suspect many see it as laziness, or slacking, or wishy-washy hippie shit (going with the flow, man), but I have always found it the best approach for me. My attempts at planning or controlling or choosing have often ended in laughter, chaos, etc - but rarely taken me to an outcome I would have chosen. The shrug seems important - whether abandoned on a beach with no passport or money and thousands of miles from 'home', or treated as a star-for-a-day.

Universe, however, seems to have a sense of fairness (and maybe a sense of humour) and has given me plum jobs (film work) and sometimes left me by the side of the road...I rarely visualise the future, beyond expecting the unexpected. Hey ho. When Universe doesn't need me any more it may toss me aside like a straw dog. I would expect no less. While I can offer some service, I expect just enough to live on...and the 'environment' seems to do that for me.

Magical thinking, perhaps.

And no sooner do I mention universe, and nature's indifference to human plans, than I hear that Christine Hewett has died. Sad to hear that. We did not know each other back in filming days (she was one of the Tonnika Sisters in Star Wars), but met several times at conventions, and she was a charming woman. She did seem fairly frail last time I saw her, but it still comes as a shock. My thoughts go out to her partner, her family and her friends.

Credit Crunch

Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

George Santayana

The overspend of the last few years, the enormous debt of the West living way beyond its means, has finally started to come unravelled in the UK.

Of course, as money is entirely a confidence game (in both meanings of the word) 'they' will continue to talk up the situation (to try to avoid further panic) but it sounds less and less convincing all the time.

I don’t write this merely as a hippie anarchist anti-capitalist (whatever that might mean) but as someone who doesn’t even believe in money (or what Robert Anton Wilson calls bio-survival tickets). That doesn’t mean I can survive long without them, of course, but I don’t have to believe in them. Bucky described wealth in terms of the number of future days it would 'buy' you.

"Wealth is our organized capability to cope effectively with the environment in sustaining our healthy regeneration and decreasing both the physical and metaphysical restrictions of the forward days of our lives."

Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth - Chapter VI Bucky Fuller

Just before Bob died we invented a currency for him - called 'Patatows, for various obscure reasons to do with Irishness and Joycean puns - RAW patatows, in fact. The most excellent Bobby designed them, and we put some into circulation. They have any value that his fans might give them. [see the RAW Deal blog posting - for other cash whimsy, from Duchamp to Boggs, from Warhol to Emperor Norton]

Ultimately, the bill is not a dollar at all, at most a representation of it. The bill is real, but the dollar itself is an abstraction… just like God. Indeed, it is remarkable how fundamentally modern monetary systems are grafted onto religion. According to Boggs the invention of both money and God date from the same era, and the traces are still visible in our own days. Just think of the double meaning of words like "redeem," or the root of the word "credit"--it is a direct derivative of the Latin word for believing. The side of Dutch coins reads "God Is With Us," while "In God We Trust" is printed on American bills.

BoB (as treasurer) even signed a few rare notes, and auctioned them on eBay (to help pay his rent and medical bills). It doesn’t seem that bizarre to me. I sign photos and trade them for small profit. However, most people seem to believe (even in this day and age when cash hardly comes into most transactions) that money exists in some sense. You might as well try to disillusion them as tell the Judeo-Christian-Muslim lot that not only do they all worship the same book /story, but that God is a concept, by which we measure - pain. My philosophical/religious education (say the word ‘spiritual’ and I reach for my metaphorical revolver) came entirely from teaching tales, folk tales, parables, myths, legends, and all the tools of the storyteller’s trade.

Somewhere in a cave, Ug borrows three rocks…and promises to bring them back later. As Ig has a lot of rocks (and therefore a lot of friends) Ug scratches three slashes in a soft piece of clay, for Ig to keep as a reminder.

Later on, Ig is playing knucklestone with OOg and as he didn’t bring all his rocks with him, trades the little clay tablet for his bet.

And so off it wanders, this little clay promissory note, wandering down the years and across the plains. In the desert it seems high value (no rocks around here, I’ll give you a camel for it!) Eventually, an Eskimo, who needs some rocks to hold down the edge of his tent, tries to cash it in for rocks. No rocks on an iceflow! Ug is long dead, and the rocks have all ground to sand.

So this morning, we see the first ‘run on the bank’ at Northern Rock. People queuing around the block, to be handed yet another piece of paper! It would seem laughable if it didn’t seem so serious…not quite hyperinflation yet...(when burning banknotes to keep warm is easier than trying to buy fuel). Bizarrely, you can see pictures of the queues of desperate people on the front of every daily paper in the UK, but their website stays up calmly offering to lend you vast sums of money, that you can pay back over the next 25 years. heh. Magic, or indeed magick. Those 'economists' and market players (a voodoo 'science' at best) continue to try to shore up the levees, or hold the card castle together, but it sounds more and more vacuous to me.

Of course, most people don’t think pension schemes spend all their money on skyscrapers with smoked glass walls, and then go bankrupt. Most people don’t think Insurance firms could just turn around and refuse to pay (Act of God! Oh, you smoke, that invalidates your claim…) or that banks (having lent out over ten times what they actually ‘own’) could go broke.

And then the good news. When we find ourselves up to our knees in flood water (water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink) some guy has invented a portable bottle with an incredibly fine filter, that even stops viruses passing through. I guess you end up with pure water, with no chemicals like chlorine or iodine. They go on sale next week, (Thanks to Keili for that story). LifeSaver Systems.

Will it never end?

I flipped to the letters page of The Guardian today only to (sigh) find people discussing atheism and religion. Myself, having never had a god to get rid of, lose faith in, or deny, etc - I don't even define myself as an a-theist. Why would I describe myself in the negative? I'm not an a-Muslim, a-Christian, a-Zeus, a-Voudoun or anything like that. Just a sane, uncluttered modern human being. I don't even claim 'humanist' because that seems like human chauvinism (I don't think of us as the 'crown of creation' at all).

That doesn't make me a skeptic, a fundamentalist materialist, etc. I accept that universe still contains many mysteries...but I prefer to retain my capacity to accept that fact, rather than dash to some reassuring explanation with little evidence. In that sense, I agree with Dawkins (that the mysteries that science has explored and revealed seem sufficiently glorious for me, especially as they always lead to furthr mysteries) but I can see why his humourless zeal in trying to stop people 'being religious' puts some people off. It's that "I am right, and you are wrong" thing that zealots of both sides have.

Delightfully, one of the Guardian correspondents quoted something I often paraphrase in this situation:

Suppose one were to assert: The gostak distims the doshes. You do not know what this means; nor do I. But if we assume that it is English, we know that 'the doshes are distimmed by the gostak.' We know too that 'one distimmer of doshes is a gostak.' If moreover, the 'doshes are galloons,' we know that 'some galloons are distimmed by the gostak.' And so we may go on, and so we often do go on.
-- from "The Meaning of Meaning" by C.K.Ogden and I.A.Richards

And he concludes: That's Theology.

I found the quote quickly online at this rather wonderful collection of Paul McGuire's, who says:

So now that we have inferred that 'one distimmer of doshes is a gostak,' and that 'some galloons are distimmed by the gostak,' do we really know any more than we did at the start?

And although I don't believe in Gostak, I certainly don't waste my time calling myself an Agostak, and arguing with people who claim to believe in doshes, gostaks, galloons - and even more improbably attribute personality, intent, and the creation of the world to them! And murder people who don't share their belief.

I find all that behaviour quite incredible, but remember that Robert Anton Wilson always said we were living on The Planet of the Apes, and to be careful not to rile them up by challenging them.

Though Hitchens, Dawkins and Dennet seem to have put themselves in the front line, I liked Jonathan Miller's tv series best, of recent attempts to explain the sort of position I hold.

And if you remain unfamiliar with the work of Robert Anton Wilson (who manages to retain his sense of humour while ploughing through these issues, and avoids zealots of every persuasion of certainty) you will find him echoing The frammisgoshes should be distimmed in this piece of his on Wilhelm Reich.

Information Overload

I seem to have gotten busier and busier this year. I have less time to sit a read a book, and realise that some people have virtually no time to really read, or browse, or research, or click-through when on the Web.

I decided I needed a web presence (to grow old disgracefully) back in 2000 - and working in the library, and as content manager on a website, and studying in an online 'university', and teaching remotely (library staff), etc - means that I have become fairly fluent at navigating.

It doesn't mean I have improved my design and layout. The website has become the equivalent of a box of memorabilia in the attic - having started out with just a FrontPage 2000 template, and grown as I learned things. It is more like a coral reef of dead shells, with just a crust of new growth on the surface. To completely rebuild it would need a month off work! Now that I have a 4 Gb memory stick hanging around my neck, I can't even keep that organised (sigh).

Anyway - my assumption that people follow links, and click around may well prove unfounded.

Assume Nothing!

So, some people may remain completely unaware of the blog I use for my magic notes, or the Circus Arts Forum that I work on, or the creative group at the MLA that I have studied and worked with for the last three years (particularly Bobby Campbell - who I have collaborated with on some projects - and whose amazingly prolific output you can see samples of here)


Of course, like many people on the web, I have cultivated some sub-personalities (avatars) but I haven't tried to hide my trail or anything.

Just as (when I performed) I used my real name (unlike actors, who pretend to be someone else, variety acts pretend to be themselves) - so I tend to let people make the connections, if they choose to. This does lead to bizarre cross-overs, for instance, when Star Wars fans work out from research that I have a connection to NoFit State Circus, so send me mail at the circus PO Box address (I do wish they'd stop doing that, as mail can easily go astray in a long chain). On my front page I offer an email address to jabbahutt@gmail.com. I am not hard to contact!

At the same time, please remember that I have a low paid job in a library, and have no desire to pay for pictures, mail costs, etc., just to keep other people happy. I'm not driving an SUV around my ranch, just because I had 6 weeks work on a film in 1982, and I don't work in show-biz any more, and don't have a publicity budget!

If people want a signed picture, I consider it reasonable that they at least cover the costs (and bear in mind I also have to go queue up at the Post Office, etc) even if they don't want to actually pay me for my signature! I agree it's a bizarre thing to do, but at the same time my sig goes on eBay for anything between £10-£60, so sending me (say) four pix to sign for free seems a bit pushy, expecting me to send them back at my own expense...some such communications I just ignore.

Sorry if I sound mean-spirited to some enterprising youth with a get-rich-quick scheme like blagging free pictures from all the Star Wars actors and selling them online! Sorry, kids, it's been done before, and we all got a bit wary. I don't even feel sure about the charity requests I get, either...even when I have sent a bunch of free pictures in the past I haven't had a word of thanks, which does make me suspicious...

I do get into a frivolous or generous mood at times, but sometimes not.

Jabba? Generous? I think not...

At the same time, I do make friends easily, I enjoy chatting and trading with people...and happily swap pictures for information, or old magazines, or DVDs of maiking-of, etc

You Gotta Move...

I know Julie doesn't appear in my blog much (and the website is shamefully out-of-date) but we still carry on our busy lives out here, together.

As she works nights and I work daytime we don't meet for long these days, and since we threw a doggie into the mix we have even less time to ourselves, or alone together, but hey...

I don't like talking about the future much (I belong to the "If you want to make God laugh, tell Her your plans!" school of thought) but Julie has recently made an offer on a cottage in a remoter part of Wales, North and West from here. I don't understand a word of this mortgage lark, and I only know that when my own limited credibility got thrown into the mix the price went up! Yikes!

It's not like we actually showed we had more cash, I suppose...(like I say, I don't understand)...my age, attitude, habits and income just increase the risk for a lender - and these days lenders are getting a bit cautious, unlike the days when they were forcing loans on people. With the US recession looming like a black cloud (a large chunk caused by the junk mortgage market, not just the war in Iraq) and the tendency of the UK to follow America's lead a few years later, they have every right to consider me a bad risk, I guess.

But I'll just drop my usual rant - and cross my fingers... Superstition seems like all I can bring to the table. I'd better start buying lottery tickets, I guess.


The name seems to acquire and drop hyphens, and I feel sure I don't say it right yet (!) but it looks something like Pont-rhyd-y-groes. Near Aberystwyth, and close to Devil's Bridge, Ceredigion, it seems like a good investment which will appeal to anglers, bird-watchers, walkers, cyclists, etc. I haven't seen the place yet (well, we don't definitely own it yet) but our current house is filling up with beds, and cutlery, and cupboards, and hat racks and lights and tea cosies and crockery, and tables, etc - ready to fill it!

Of course, I have always lived in rented places, out of a cardboard suitcase, so I find the whole prospect of a second home quite daunting. Perhaps a great holiday option (out of the season for it making money to pay for itself) but still quite a scary thought as a place to go and live. Mostly because I don't drive, and have stranded myself in the country without work before now (back in the 1980s). Hey ho.

It seems to have formed as a village in the 19th Century - because of the lead mining industry, but the next village, Ysbyty Ystwyth, appears rather older, at least it has agricultural roots pre-dating the mining. Its church is dedicated to St John the Baptist (for you esoteric alternative history types). Some of the surrounding cottages probably belonged to squatters from the 19th Century. So that didn't just start with the hippies and the mushrooms!

Panoramic view of surroundings, from Castell Grogwynion (but you don't have right-of-way to walk all over it...)
Map Reference
Pen Glog-fawr Panorama
Maenarthur (Arthur's Stone) Panorama

Still, this is a long-term plan, and I guess if Voltaire got it right in Candide, after all the journeys and trials,"Il faut cultiver notre jardin" - and if Lao Tse got it right, then retreating to a small place and never going to the next village, even, might prove a great way to round off a life. Personally, I lean to Chuang-Tzu, as Western philosophy and religion seems to contain so little humour, and ease.

A small country may have many machines,
but the people will have no use for them;
they will have boats and carriages
which they do not use;
their armour and weapons
are not displayed,
for they are serious when regarding death.
They do not travel far from home,
and make knots in ropes,
rather than do much writing.
The food they eat is plain and good,
and their clothes are simple;
their homes are secure,
without the need of bolts and bars,
and they are happy in their ways.
Though the cockerels and dogs
of their neighbours
can be heard not far away,
the people of the villages
grow old and die in peace

Lao Tse ch. 80

Web Writing That Works

Hard to Believe

Great to see Richard Dawkins on the tv last night (with support from Derren Brown, explaining cold reading – “I’m getting something about the dog sleeping in the hall – oh, you don’t have a dog? Well perhaps a painting of a dog, or some sort of painting in the hall? You have recently put a picture up in the hall? He (the spirit on the other side) doesn’t think it’s a good idea to hang that painting there…) Notice how the dog vanishes…

No, I haven’t quoted him perfectly, but he does it awfully well.

I have a lot of glee watching Dawkins, and love the fact that Derren (another sceptic) doesn’t claim anything more than cunning and ingenuity, while all these other people claim psychic powers, and contact with the dead, etc.

My only quibble arises from Dawkins’ complete lack of interest in ‘intuition’ or ‘creativity’ or ‘emotional value’, etc – when he dismisses astrology, spiritualism, faith healing, etc. I do agree with him that the rise of irrationality feels depressing, but that resembles the despair of the intelligent confronted by the stupid, at times. Rather like saying “you can’t possibly enjoy soap operas, you should go to the real opera“ (say). I think certain ‘harmless untruths’ may give people support or reassurance, just as the placebo effect can (apparently) heal people.

I found him hilarious destroying Sun Sign astrology (first of all by comparing the stereotypical model by using national characteristics to point out how unacceptable they would seem to most modern people “Germans, you work hard and play hard, and sometimes people think you don’t have much of a sense of humour” “Chinese, you appear enigmatic to people around you…” “British, you need to learn to loosen up…” - and then by handing an identical trivial newspaper description to various ‘signs’ to see if they recognise themselves…and not improving on chance.

Still, it’s a cheap shot if you think of astrology as a complex language evolved over centuries, and attempting to describe the human personality, just as have various schools of psychology, or groups studying consciousness, and not a system of omens and influences…but that perhaps just shows my own lingering attachment to that particular language, having actually put some time into studying it (without coming to ‘believe’ in it).

And of course, watching water diviners (in Spanish the verb divinar means ‘to guess’!) try to guess which bin contains water and which contain sand, and not beating chance, and then rationalising madly, seems hilarious until you stop to consider which of your own beliefs you would hold onto, even confronted by clear evidence (my smoking has nothing to do with this cough, of course!)

Still, over all, I enjoyed the programme, but know it will make no difference at all. I have tested expression of my own cynicism and scepticism with my online study group for the last three years, and they have convinced me that I have no right to claim that magick doesn’t work (for instance) as it works (appears to work) for them. Like the water diviners they feel sure that something useful happens, and (like the placebo) I don’t feel inclined to disagree any more – especially around creatives, as whatever trick works to elicit creativity seems OK to me, even superstitious behaviour, or accidental imprinting (feeling unable to write without a cigarette and a glass of whiskey).

And I get tired of defending the view. I liked Dawkins' description of the universe as wonder-full, and the word 'mundane' as describing the world around us, which could and should fill us with wonder, rather than needing the 'invisible' or 'spiritual' to somehow make it more exciting. I don't believe in that 'unseen' myself, but have always leaned towards a Zen-like view of elimination of abstractions, and direct perception of what surrounds us. When cold, you can burn the wooden statue of the Buddha...

I don't imbue my surroundings with imaginary 'hidden power', but I do imagine a lot of wars get fought over holy buildings, people trampling on or burning crosses, and flags, and other symbols in which they have invested value.

Last of the Dog Days

Well, today's the last of the Dog Days (something to do with Sirius, and Egypt, and the hot summer days, etc - do yer own research) and at least I don't have to go to work.

Yesterday I struggled back into work (still coughing) only to find the library had been broken into, and we had to sit around waiting for a forensic bloke before we could go into our office, or open up the cybercafe. That made it a long morning.

This cough (tickly throat) still keeps me awake at nights (and probably Julie, too) and exhausts me...after two weeks!

Anyway - try to see the Perseids shower of shooting stars, if you get half a chance this weekend. You don't often get the chance to know which way to look (the radiant point in Perseus), and to see several in minutes! (up to a hundred per hour - Do yer own research). NASA website on Perseids for 2007 - with New Moon making the show particularly good...especially if you can get away from light pollution.


Oh, yeah, and Mars will be right there in the firing line, as a bonus.

Bear in mind this goes on for days, so you get more than one chance...Judith just reminded me that looking below Cassiopia (the giant letter W constellation) and to the left will find the radiant...Click on this Jodrell Bank image, to see it larger...

What a strange day to go back to work!

The library had been broken into overnight, so we couldn't go into our office space until the forensic team had arrived. There's more to that story, but while wandering in the only section I could get to (Music) I saw this album by Nigel Kennedy, which uses the very statue I posed next to just days ago in Amsterdam! (And one version of which I currently use as on MySpace...as my avatar.)

Moments Later...

One minute cheerful and glowing, the next I go down with some bug. Spent all of Sunday under the duvet, and the snuffling, coughing, aching, tired thing has dragged on all this week. (Apologies to the people at work having to cover for me, but you wouldn't wanna see me in a state like this).

The dog mostly seems disappointed by my condition (I don't wanna play much) but once he gave up nagging he did join me dozing on the sofa under the duvet one day, as you can see...(just in case I had forgotten about him!)

Refreshed and Relaxed

Well, I may have felt grumpy about the organisation at the Star Wars convention (they still haven't paid me, although the contract said "within seven working days" - sigh) but I can't fault the organisation of the Maybe Logic Academy Euro Meetup.

We had a fantastic time. I don't want to duplicate the posts, but you can see a brief summary over in the Only Maybe blog (linked to my Academy activities). Ah um, perhaps I should give you the direct link, as the blog rolls on, and you may read this in some other spacetime (i.e. later)
MLA Euro Meetup
And here you can find notes from our host, Borsky.

Don’t Give Up the Day Job

I have just returned from Celebration Europe (30 years of Star Wars), where we finally had all the Jabba puppeteers in one place at one time. Not that many people care. In the USA and 'mainland Europe' people who design costumes, or special effects, or operate creatures seem to interest people far more than in the UK. The Brits love of 'celebrity' means they like ‘actors’ (even if the person stood around with a rubber mask, or helmet on their head, in the corner of a scene). [HERESY WARNING] I mean, I like Jeremy Bulloch, he’s a charming man, but what does Boba Fett do, exactly? Ahem. Here in the UK a puppeteer seems about as interesting as a carpenter or electrician or scene painter. And anyway, most people think Jabba got done with computer graphics, not blood, sweat and slime. I found it a rather Ricky Gervais experience of non-fame.

Still, I enjoyed the company of fans, and witnessed relatively little geekdom. I mean, just because I personally wouldn’t queue for two hours for a ticket, an hour and a half to get in the door, half an hour to buy coupons, and four hours to get to Mark Hamill for the honour of paying £85 for his signature on a rather flimsy picture doesn’t mean I can judge people who do. I don’t like soap operas (or real opera, come to that) or horror movies, or theme parks - but they remain hugely popular, and as my hobby is conjuring, I can’t really talk about geeks!

The people we did meet proved really nice, and as I hadn’t expected to make much money (most people who want my sig have got it by now) I simply enjoyed a little reflected glory sitting with Dave Barclay, because of us having worked together. As he still works in films, and lives in LA, he has remained harder for Brit fans to meet (and get an autograph from).

I didn’t feel impressed by the organisation of the event. My name is spelled wrongly on the website (not THAT uncommon with my surname), and similarly on the poster and programme they gave us. Dave Barclay also had his name wrong (Barklay), as did Christine Hewett, and Jeremy (Bullock?), etc. We had been prevented from selling our own pix, but none at all had been provided for Simon Williamson (or Simon Williams, as the programme calls him!) The pix they had made seemed very flimsy (like a page from a magazine) which made it quite embarrassing to ask for £3 (just for the pic) - thank goodness people mostly brought their own stuff to have signed. Fans have got used to Official Pix on good paper, great colour balance, and a hologram, etc. And these should come as part of the price of the autograph, not as well as! We don’t have control of these issues, but we may well get the blame (or accused of greed) on the fan forums. They had also set us puppeteers up in the 3 coupon price range (£15!) but we immediately told them we wanted to drop to 2, and scribbled out the price they had posted. I mean, come on guys!

So yes, several reasons to feel aggrieved. The “wide range of food” in the Green Room? When I got there, a bowl of crisps and some dodgy looking meat sandwiches. When I said I was a veggie I ended up with ‘cheese and Marmite’ sandwiches (I have never eaten that combination before!). Sigh. And the coffee was the usual Brit offering, lukewarm and watery. I had to go buy double expressos from a proper coffee stall (Thanks fellas!)

On the night before we started I rented a (cheaper) hotel room just so I could get to work for 9 a.m. without dragging myself across country at the crack of dawn. I met up with some people in the bar, and had a good evening, and even managed to put a couple of the Welsh guys on my guest list (hope you had a good day, Stuart and Andrew!)

I can’t list all the people I met (you know who you are) but I really enjoyed meeting up with Martin again (we had started a conversation at a Cardiff convention, but got separated – we just spoke this morning - having got separated again, yesterday - as he tracked me down at the library (day job) – and hello to Julie!), and seeing Sîon and Della out of the blue, and chilling out with Cutulph and Joanna at the Fox bar, and enjoying John C’s 60th birthday, and meeting Simon and Janie in the lift, and on and on and so on…

At least we got a photo of the four of us ‘Jabba crew’ standing in front of the life-size Jabba display!

Leisure, writing and Disobedience

Having arrived back with a rant, I thought I would offer this in tranquility. On the right of the page you can see a link to Thoreau's Blog - an online project I really liked, as the guy had arranged to publish Thoreau's notebooks and diaries(including from his famous 'retreat' 1845-7) on a daily basis. Now the cycle has completed, he does not routinely update, so I'll just give you the sample for this date, back in 1840.

Thoreau's Journal: 06-Jul-1840
Have no mean hours, but be grateful for every hour, and accept what it brings. The reality will make any sincere record respectable. No day will have been wholly misspent, if one sincere, thoughtful page has been written.

Let the daily tide leave some deposit on these pages, as it leaves sand and shells on the shore. So much increase of terra firma. This may be a calendar of the ebbs and flows of the soul; and on these sheets as a beach, the waves may cast up pearls and seaweed.

I discovered Thoreau in my late teens, and hold him partly responsible for dropping-out, opting for a simple life, etc. Not just mystical nature retreats, either. You could try reading his 'Civil Disobedience' text which also influenced me.

A Word In Your Ear

I will spend a little more time back here in the blog, soon. I have decided to allocate the time I have spent in online study (for the last three years) in compiling my book. The website, of course, forms a kind of autobiography without much detail or inner thought, and my opinions get scattered throughout blogs, articles, emails, etc - but I like the idea of generating some sort of hard copy, probably using Lulu or some such 'on-demand' publishing scheme.

As usual, I may have an overspill of material, and may well use this space to ‘flex the writing muscles’ and warm up.

I don’t think I ever explained why I use the title I do, for this blog. If you know Burroughs’ work you may not need an explanation, but for me it relates to the fact that we use language to program our psyche-soma, and those hypnotic patterns literally confuse, bemuse or amuse us… The Neuro-Linguistic Programming guys analysed this years ago - although they have since developed a slightly cult feeling around NLP. The original linguistic analysis still holds true however, even if the magical claims - fast therapy, accelerated learning, etc - aspect may give you pause.

From today’s papers: “...for those who deny climate change: believe us, it’s a reality”.

You could spend the day dismantling that worthy thought. The implicit idea that climate has never changed before, the idea that you can either deny or ‘believe’ in such processes, rather than measure them. The sloppy use of the word ‘reality’, etc.

We as humans don’t intend to ‘save the planet’ (I don’t think cockroaches, rats, pigeons and micro-organisms will much care what we do to it, and feel sure Gaia doesn't mind) but we do want to save the planet as an inhabitable environment for humans. Not the same thing.

And if we really wanted to, or accepted that we have some responsibility for the way things have changed we wouldn’t just switch to washing our clothes at 30 degrees! Kit Pedler spelled all this stuff out years ago in The Quest for Gaia (1979) (and yes folks, the hippie generation saw it coming, too – remember Doomwatch in 1970?) – as well as washing at low temperature, you should quit ironing those clothes, quit shaving, quit driving, quit flying, quit eating meat, quit using deodorants, etc, etc. Of course, when Kit turned up at the Houses of Parliament, bearded, homemade woolly jumper, on his bike, no-one took him seriously. Hey ho. So it goes.

Rather similar language gets used for our bodily health as individuals. Giving up smoking doesn’t ‘save lives every year’. It may extend them, or decrease the discomfort of old age. It may also leave you lingering healthily and unhappily (and expensively for your children) when you could have gone out with a bang. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the point intended, I just wish the language would accurately reflect what they want, rather than try to manipulate me with emotion and half-truth.

And finally, in spite of Terrorism creating a certain amount of havoc, this ‘climate change’ seems to cause far more damage and expense, and if humans do take the blame then I guess compensation also seems reasonable. Until recently these kind of events counted as ‘Acts of God’ in insurance terms. Who causes more damage, fear, disruption and expense:- Terrorists or God? All together now….

Of course, if the concept of God drives you to distraction (language illusions again – and Dawkins specifically thinks of God as a word virus) you might enjoy Billy Connolly’s movie ‘The Man Who Sued God’ which plays with the idea of insurance firms (and churches) getting away with that.

Try Disaster maps on World Mapper

And if we do decide to hold humans responsible, after all, then we might look at figures like 984,000 people killed by cars (worldwide) in 2001.

That same year (and don’t forget that includes 9/11) the figures for terrorism

Total Persons Killed: 6318

You can see why I seem so wary of car-drivers, compared to Terrorists. They seem 200 times more likely to kill me!

Glasters in memory and on television...

Well, I will have to come back to add links and such.

My online community/study group just produced edition number 11 of our online magazine - carrying on though we lost our beloved teacher earlier this year. And I do mean 'teacher' (favourite writer) not guru or some bullshit.

I intend to graduate on the day I complete three years with this amazing gang of 'penfriends' by meeting up with a few of them...in Belgium and The Netherlands.

Before that, I get a reunion with the Jabba The Hutt crew at a Star Wars 30 year anniversary gig in London...where the main puppeteers and sculptor get to meet up (and meet some other folks, too). They seem to think my family name is 'Philpot'. (sigh)

And just today, The Observer newspaper apparently gave a good review to those of us who have starved and struggled and all that, to get Circus recognised not as a dying medium, but as something perfectly suited to a culture burned out by virtual events who still love the sweat and involvement of a live gig. Nofit State Circus.

Speaking of which, I type this while watching Glastonbury on the tv (and, yes, it looks like a wet and muddy one)...I have been to either 2 out of three, or 1 out of three of the Festivals, both as a solo comedy juggler, and (often) as part of the NoFit State circus crew (either doing our show, or simply providing a tent/venue). I have done glorious sunny ones (selling juggling equipment in swimming trunks for the Oddballs) and muddy ones. I used to finish with the circus and go to my second job (running the best pirate tequila stall with Rachel) but as it got more corporate they squeezed such enterprise out... First they banned the motorbikes, then they banned the dogs, then they banned the Travellers. Then they put up a fence, then they had to repel boarders. And if you think I resent 'them' I actually understand all their decisions. Still sad, though...

My dog had to leave the room this evening when I cranked up The Who "Won't Get Fooled Again"

I ain't gonna do nostalgia though.

I almost never got to the big stage - a mile or three from where I work...bear in mind that the place is about half the size of Cardiff. On tv they don't seem to show the Cabaret/Circus/Theatre area. Bill Bailey apparently turned up (for instance) on the 2000 seater cabaret tent (where I used to spend a lot of time, watching everybody from Jerry Sadowitz (who may have actually managed to offend everyone) to The Bastard Son of Tommy Cooper. Also 'people from the telly and radio' - or Tony Allen (still one of my favourite stand-ups). They set off the fireworks during one of his sets, and half the tent stood up and left. He called the rest of us to the front and did an intimate set...so when the others came back they had to sit at the back. heh. Glasters ain't an easy gig, and some stars die the death, while some other people rise to the occasion, and feel totally at home. I loved seeing John Martyn there, although he didn't make the 11 a.m. gig at the Jazz World stage. I dragged myself out of the pit to stand there saying "he won't get here for 11am" but then he stormed a 23:00 set in one of those small tents in the Avalon field. I usually go to the Acoustic Stage, the Jazz World Stage, the Avalon stages and the main Cabaret Tent...and then Green Field, and Avalon Field...ah sheeit don't get me started...I wanna jump in a vehicle and get there even for Sunday morning and the clean up regime...

But here I sit, with the dog, watching the wonderful Beth Ditto in the studio and on stage...from the comfort of my home base (all thanks to the Fabulous Julie!). I just got an email from Aaron (Hi Aaron, see you soon!) who Julie gave a hitch lift to a protest site about the Oil pipeline they are running through Wales (not just the Middle East, I assure you) - and it sounds like he'll come to crash next weekend...we started doing jobs (late in life) but we still like the 'roots life' kids...gotta keep shouting about things that offend you.

Like I say, I may come back and tidy up, but someone has to hold the line, and I trust the next generation. First The Who sang "My Generation" (we have all passed 60) and then they sang "The Kids Are Alright" and that's still true.

I just wish the tv people would show the rest of the festival - the comedy, the circus, the theatre, the guys who use to sell me Space Cake, the sculptors, the massage crew, the homeopaths, the drummers, the firestarters, the clowns, the spontaneous moments of kindness and generosity, etc. I had the most fun one year when the circus took a wheelbarrow to collect firewood, and we gave people lifts with their luggage, I wheeled our new boy up to the top field to see the stone circle, and he then took me on a wild ride back down the main drag in the same wheelbarrow! A really wild ride!

And while I am doing a media check, I noticed that Empire magazine decided to make collectors' editions by having 30 different covers, for the most popular Star Wars characters ever...and we (the Jabba team) came in at number 11 - although they seem to think my first name is 'Tony' (sigh). Perhaps I deserve a free copy for that...

Away with the Fairies

Well, I managed to abandon this blog for three months!

I find so many inert blogs that I have always tried to keep mine moving, but recent changes have squeezed this one out.





First of all, I got a job as content manager for an Arts Council Circus Arts Forum, which takes up an hour or so a day.




Then, Julie went and bought a dog, a Labradoodle called Dandy, who takes up a good hour or two most days




I also find myself on the Board of Trustees for NoFit State Circus, and that doesn’t just mean popping in a couple of times a year, but has involved quite a flurry of meetings to deal with the rapid changes in the business – caused by success, let me point out!

Finally, I have been trying to wrap up the three years study I have done at the Maybe Logic Academy. I also maintain their blog called Only Maybe. Long may it thrive, but I feel I have to take a sabbatical (at least) and possibly even ‘graduate’. I started on July 23rd 2004 (first of the Dog Days) so I hope to meet up with some fellow students this July 23rd (in a little trip to Belgium and Holland), then take a break to write (maybe).

I also have plans to finally meet up with all the Jabba crew at once, at Celebration Europe. I’ve met them all one by one, but this could be our only chance for a complete get-together.


Somewhere in here I seem to have neglected this blog (!)

Actually, I also haven’t got down to see my daughter and grand-daughter this year, which I regret, but dogs add to the complications of travel (for non-drivers like me). And the 'boy wonder' continues to wander, but we have loose connections via web interfaces...

I missed Jay’s “Will You Still Need Me” party through sheer shortage of time and sleep. Sorry Jay!


I have changed from the Philip K Dick beard and short hair of a couple of years ago, to the clean-shaven long-hair of today.


And I'd enjoy having enough time to actually pursue my magic hobby - I started a magic blog to put interesting links together, but practicing magic is time-intensive and I don't have any time...quite when I can finish writing a book I don't know!

I think of myself as a lazy person, but I find myself on a treadmill...