Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
I seem to have come to an impass in the story as it says message truncated at trhe bottom and I cant find the bit I want to add too? How does one get around this? Michael Yahoo! Messenger - Communicate instantly...Ping your friends today! Download Messenger Now http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com/download/index.html
FLUXLIST: Woman Vanishes in Smog
just how is this story thing working? i keep getting differing versions some with my additions, others without. who is editing it? who chooses what's in and/or out? in one my entry had been changed, quite possibly for the better, but i don't think that that should happen. it's nice knowing who's contributed but not what they've contributed, it sort of provides a 'puzzle' element too, trying to work out who did what, based solely on impressions given via email - good fun, but it doesn't work if we change each others work. this is of course me speaking, or rather typing, from a 'non-writer' viewpoint.. ahem, sorry.whistles sheepishly, goes back to work doggedly, meets himself in the corridor and becomes very worried. (sheep worrying! geddit? - oh suit yourselves!) x
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Vanishes in Smog
--- [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: just how is this sausage thing working? i keep getting differing voles some with my additions, others without. what's in and/or out? in one my entry had been cha-cha'd, quite possibly for the better, but i do think that that should happen. it's nice knowing who's concertina'd but not what they've collywobbled, it sort of provides a 'poddle' element too, trying to work out who did what, based solely on imp lessons given via email - good fun, but it doesn't work if we change each others warthogs? this is of course God speaking, or rather typing, from a 'non-writer' volleyball.. ahem, sorry.whistles goatishly, goes back to work dungbeetedly, meets himself in the collinder and becomes very worried. (badger worrying! geddit? - oh suit yourselves missus!) x Yahoo! Messenger - Communicate instantly...Ping your friends today! Download Messenger Now http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com/download/index.html
RE: FLUXLIST: Woman Vanishes in Smog
Hi Here's my take on the story so far I think the story should just progress in a completely free, random, hit and miss peculiar and surprising way. I think it should keep going until it runs out of steam and stops - or until someone pulls the plug. I think anyone should do anything to any part of the story - which includes altering it and changing it, and altering and changing things other people have written. (Although I don't think anyone should subtract anything - in case someone decides to erase great chunks.) Feel free to change anything I've written. It's not something I'm precious about. I wasn't planning to enter my contributions for the Pulitzer prize for badgers. As the different versions turn up I'm sure someone (maybe me) will add them all together. Let it be like a giant snowball that rolls down the snow fields of art, scattering wolverines and badgers, and let's just see where it turns up or if it demolishes any little wooden huts. So - that's what I think. Crumpets anyone? Big Al writes: just how is this story thing working? i keep getting differing versions some with my additions, others without. who is editing it? who chooses what's in and/or out? in one my entry had been changed, quite possibly for the better, but i don't think that that should happen. it's nice knowing who's contributed but not what they've contributed, it sort of provides a 'puzzle' element too, trying to work out who did what, based solely on impressions given via email - good fun, but it doesn't work if we change each others work. this is of course me speaking, or rather typing, from a 'non-writer' viewpoint.. ahem, sorry.whistles sheepishly, goes back to work doggedly, meets himself in the corridor and becomes very worried. (sheep worrying! geddit? - oh suit yourselves!) x
RE: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
That sounds like a technical thing - best ask a technical person You could begin chapter six on a new page... XXX Roger Michael writes - I seem to have come to an impass in the story as it says message truncated at trhe bottom and I cant find the bit I want to add too? How does one get around this? Yahoo! Messenger - Communicate instantly...Ping your friends today! Download Messenger Now http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com/download/index.html
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
--- Roger Stevens [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: (Please add to the story wherever you see fit, add your name at the front and post it.) Man Bites Dog 42-page book made of fur, teeth, skin and bones Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens, Michael Leigh, Alan fffo, badgergirl, Carol Starr, Suse The Story So Far Fourteen wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger. But the badger is too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a stone. In the burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a broth ambrosia of the green grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep. The badger is dreaming that it was just a dream, there are no wolverines or lap dog because the badger was really awakened by the artist removing the paintbrush from the stone to begin painting for the morning. Little does the artist realize that the badger is in the burrow. Once the badger (a strange name for a badger some would say) is reassured as to its safety and breakfast is under way in the burrow; ambrosia of green grain and mushrooms with the added delight of mini marshmallows! The day is going well, but what was that strange sound? Thunder and a police siren mix with snoring. The badger jumps from his spot thinking the stone has imploded. When he hears the rain on the stone above, he realizes the electricity is still working, washes his face and soon falls back deep asleep. He dreams of a sitting on a five bar gate in Shinaniki Da. It's 1932 and Tom Thumb ,the Topsy Turvy talking automaton has just opened the Cough Drop Shop in the village which badger can see from where he sits. The baked Potato man wanders by trying to see his wares. Piping hot King Edwards! he shouts as he wafts the steam from his portable oven perched precariously on one-legged wheel-barrow. Juicy Jerseys covered in ketchup! Badger asks the baked Potato Man if he has any crispy potato peelings in batter. No, but I have these fine Cheshire New potatoes in gravy he smiles , proffering the steamy morsel which suddenly grows two eyes and leering mouth and cackles most horribly! Hours later, Once, the badger, is awakened by the noise of wood against stone. It is night and the lap dog is yapping. The wolverines have surrounded the stone and are chanting an incantation. The badger doesn't breathe, not a whisker moves. Neither up nor down, although suspense is acrostic. After a paws of several minutes the badger quickly whips out his cross-stitched magic asbestos underpants and pulls them on ferociously. Once flings open the serving hatch and grabs the vial of sacred weasel water and makes a dot for the burrow entrance and confronts the seething mass of writhing wolverines squirming around the stone which is now glowing with a strange phosphorescent throb! 1 It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave yapping set apart the party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhe and chase and spurn the undergrowth around the latest beige badger silting. In the brave distance behoves the strange and incandescent foreshadows of wolverines and greenish melon lights upon the substantial forest fare. Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp and muttered - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I scents wolverines. Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in this lackadaisical pre-momentary of the word fandango. Meanwhile, or to be more precisereiouseless, high on hill stood a lonely man with a goathead, his fixedinterestrate stare directeddyboyhoodlesservilely at the burning black belching smokestacks of the town beyond the wolverine woods. The sound of a suddenly snuffeforadicalcified warps harp, brought memories back for Ludwig Hat, erstwhile butler and badger baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and Cara Van Hire. Ludwig stood immobile, impeller and intoxicate, for Ludwig had been brained by falling groceries, dropped from almost a mile overhead and one mile and eight inches over shoulder, a result of the splitting of a cheap carrier pigeon on it's way home. Forcing his gaze downward Ludwig was horrified, not only had his part of the story not managed to settle on a definite form, not only did it lack content but now to his disgust he found that he had been rendereducededicateddyboyfriended by a tangerine!!! He couldn't even get that right. Ludwig crossed his eyes and dotted his teeth, relaxed and floated up, through the roof of his own mouth. Long and complicated wordadditions, he thought, canwearyoudownifyournot careful, and so he resolved to be more carefulinfuture. Win Cent the Magnificent and Cara, however, were seriously considering calling Sister Meg and entering into the fray. Sister Meg O'Lomania was after all acrostic champion frigidaire and good at getting badgers up and down and out of trees (and wolverines out of toasters for that matter.) Lap dogs she had no time for as their batteries always
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
(Please add to the story wherever you see fit, add your name at the front and post it.) Man Bites Dog 42-page book made of fur, teeth, skin and bones Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens, Michael Leigh, Alan fffo, badgergirl, Carol Starr, Suse The Story So Far Fourteen wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger. But the badger is too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a stone. In the burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a broth ambrosia of the green grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep. The badger is dreaming that it was just a dream, there are no wolverines or lap dog because the badger was really awakened by the artist removing the paintbrush from the stone to begin painting for the morning. Little does the artist realize that the badger is in the burrow. Once the badger (a strange name for a badger some would say) is reassured as to its safety and breakfast is under way in the burrow; ambrosia of green grain and mushrooms with the added delight of mini marshmallows! The day is going well, but what was that strange sound? Thunder and a police siren mix with snoring. The badger jumps from his spot thinking the stone has imploded. When he hears the rain on the stone above, he realizes the electricity is still working, washes his face and soon falls back deep asleep. Hours later, Once, the badger, is awakened by the noise of wood against stone. It is night and the lap dog is yapping. The wolverines have surrounded the stone and are chanting an incantation. The badger doesn't breathe, not a whisker moves. Neither up nor down, although suspense is acrostic. After a paws of several minutes the badger quickly whips out his cross-stitched magic asbestos underpants and pulls them on ferociously. Once flings open the serving hatch and grabs the vial of sacred weasel water and makes a dot for the burrow entrance and confronts the seething mass of writhing wolverines squirming around the stone which is now glowing with a strange phosphorescent throb! 1 It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave yapping set apart the party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhe and chase and spurn the undergrowth around the latest beige badger silting. In the brave distance behoves the strange and incandescent foreshadows of wolverines and greenish melon lights upon the substantial forest fare. Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp and muttered - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I scents wolverines. Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in this lackadaisical pre-momentary of the word fandango. Meanwhile, or to be more precisereiouseless, high on hill stood a lonely man with a goathead, his fixedinterestrate stare directeddyboyhoodlesservilely at the burning black belching smokestacks of the town beyong the wolverine woods. The sound of a suddenly snuffeforadicalcified warps harp, brought memories back for Ludwig Hat, erstwhile butler and badger baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and Cara Van Hire. Ludwig stood immobile, imshelle and intexacoe, for Ludwig had been brained by falling groceries, dropped from almost a mile overhead and one mile and eight inches over shoulder, a result of the splitting of a cheap carrier pigeon on it's way home. Forcing his gaze downward Ludwig was horrified, not only had his part of the story not managed to settle on a definite form, not only did it lack content but now to his disgust he found that he had been rendereducededicateddyboyfriended by a tangerine!!! He couldn't even get that right. Ludwig crossed his eyes and dotted his teeth, relaxed and floated up, through the roof of his own mouth. Long and complicated wordadditions, he thought, canwearyoudownifyournot careful, and so he resolved to be more carefulinfuture. Win Cent the Magnificent and Cara, however, were seriously considering calling Sister Meg and entering into the fray. Sister Meg O'Lomania was after all acrostic champion frigidaire and good at getting badgers up and down and out of trees (and wolverines out of toasters for that matter.) Lap dogs she had no time for as their batteries always seemed to run out in the middle of a sent bottle of enormous palcritude. His eyes dilated and shuffled in the moonlight, his breathe came in short pants, his coughs in a skirt and his trousers rolled up like Venetian blinds caught in a mighty wurlitzer. Mrs. Shufflefang caught sight of herself in a nearby polished knob of a Milkman's portable pelmet crusher and she winced inwardly, tossing back a mane of flaxen hair that was tied in a bun and covered in currants. The badgers, for now there were five, all grabbed the reins of the milkman's horse and whipped it into a gallop and then into a small tea shop where it scattered several old ladies and a troupe of dwarves on an outing. Suddenly, Pequot Marmaduck threw a crumpet at Sister Meg. It caught her with a ping in the frigidaire and she fainted straight away, smashing the paw of the lap dog who was
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
(Please add to the story wherever you see fit, add your name at the front and post it.) Man Bites Dog 42-page book made of fur, teeth, skin and bones Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens, Michael Leigh, Alan fffo, badgergirl, Carol Starr, Suse The Story So Far Fourteen wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger. But the badger is too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a stone. In the burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a broth ambrosia of the green grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep. The badger is dreaming that it was just a dream, there are no wolverines or lap dog because the badger was really awakened by the artist removing the paintbrush from the stone to begin painting for the morning. Little does the artist realize that the badger is in the burrow. Once the badger (a strange name for a badger some would say) is reassured as to its safety and breakfast is under way in the burrow; ambrosia of green grain and mushrooms with the added delight of mini marshmallows! The day is going well, but what was that strange sound? Thunder and a police siren mix with snoring. The badger jumps from his spot thinking the stone has imploded. When he hears the rain on the stone above, he realizes the electricity is still working, washes his face and soon falls back deep asleep. Hours later, Once, the badger, is awakened by the noise of wood against stone. It is night and the lap dog is yapping. The wolverines have surrounded the stone and are chanting an incantation. The badger doesn't breathe, not a whisker moves. Neither up nor down, although suspense is acrostic. After a paws of several minutes the badger quickly whips out his cross-stitched magic asbestos underpants and pulls them on ferociously. Once flings open the serving hatch and grabs the vial of sacred weasel water and makes a dot for the burrow entrance and confronts the seething mass of writhing wolverines squirming around the stone which is now glowing with a strange phosphorescent throb! 1 It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave yapping set apart the party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhe and chase and spurn the undergrowth around the latest beige badger silting. In the brave distance behoves the strange and incandescent foreshadows of wolverines and greenish melon lights upon the substantial forest fare. Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp and muttered - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I scents wolverines. Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in this lackadaisical pre-momentary of the word fandango. Meanwhile, or to be more precisereiouseless, high on hill stood a lonely man with a goathead, his fixedinterestrate stare directeddyboyhoodlesservilely at the burning black belching smokestacks of the town beyong the wolverine woods. The sound of a suddenly snuffeforadicalcified warps harp, brought memories back for Ludwig Hat, erstwhile butler and badger baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and Cara Van Hire. Ludwig stood immobile, imshelle and intexacoe, for Ludwig had been brained by falling groceries, dropped from almost a mile overhead and one mile and eight inches over shoulder, a result of the splitting of a cheap carrier pigeon on it's way home. Forcing his gaze downward Ludwig was horrified, not only had his part of the story not managed to settle on a definite form, not only did it lack content but now to his disgust he found that he had been rendereducededicateddyboyfriended by a tangerine!!! He couldn't even get that right. Ludwig crossed his eyes and dotted his teeth, relaxed and floated up, through the roof of his own mouth. Long and complicated wordadditions, he thought, canwearyoudownifyournot careful, and so he resolved to be more carefulinfuture. Win Cent the Magnificent and Cara, however, were seriously considering calling Sister Meg and entering into the fray. Sister Meg O'Lomania was after all acrostic champion frigidaire and good at getting badgers up and down and out of trees (and wolverines out of toasters for that matter.) Lap dogs she had no time for as their batteries always seemed to run out in the middle of a sent bottle of enormous palcritude. His eyes dilated and shuffled in the moonlight, his breathe came in short pants, his coughs in a skirt and his trousers rolled up like Venetian blinds caught in a mighty wurlitzer. Mrs. Shufflefang caught sight of herself in a nearby polished knob of a Milkman's portable pelmet crusher and she winced inwardly, tossing back a mane of flaxen hair that was tied in a bun and covered in currants. The badgers, for now there were five, all grabbed the reins of the milkman's horse and whipped it into a gallop and then into a small tea shop where it scattered several old ladies and a troupe of dwarves on an outing. Suddenly, Pequot Marmaduck threw a crumpet at Sister Meg. It caught her with a ping in the frigidaire and she fainted straight away, smashing the paw of the lap dog who was
FLUXLIST: Gwendolyn MacEwen Park
Wegway Primary Culture Magazine is pleased to be part of this event (forwarded message below). If you want to be removed from my mailing list, please reply with "remove," in the subject line. Thank you. Steve Armstrong, Publisher Wegway. www.wegway.com For Immediate Release: May 25, 2004 Media Contact: Randy Resh [EMAIL PROTECTED] Saturday, June 5th A Reading for Gwendolyn MacEwen Park Memorial Hear Canada's national treasures read in celebration support at this historic event: join Poet Laureates George Bowering Dennis Lee with Margaret Atwood, bill bissett, Christian Bok, Jim Christy, George Elliott Clarke, David Donnell, Andrea Jarmai, Bruce Meyer Joe Rosenblatt! Saturday, June 5th 2 -7 pm at Gwendolyn MacEwen Park: 1 block West of Spadina, 1 block North of Bloor a day-long, no-charge event. See our ads in Word Literary Calendar, or Quill Quire. For updates, schedules complete info., visit gwenpark.org In the event of foul weather: reading will be held at Walmer Road Baptist Church, adjacent to park. sponsored by Pteros Gallery, The League of Canadian Poets, Bigmouth Media, CIUT 89.5 FM., The Writers Union of Canada, House of Anansi Press, Coach House Press, Quill Quire, Word Literary Calendar, The Toronto Arts council, The Canada Council for the Arts. *Help us raise the casting costs receive a ltd. ed. CD of new restored archival readings! Saturday, June 5th A Reading for Gwendolyn MacEwen Park Memorial at Gwendolyn MacEwen Park: 1 block West of Spadina, 1 block North of Bloor gwenpark.org
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
- Original Message - From: Allan Revich [EMAIL PROTECTED] To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Sent: Monday, May 31, 2004 9:26 AM Subject: Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries! (Please add to the story wherever you see fit, add your name at the front and post it.) Man Bites Dog 42-page book made of fur, teeth, skin and bones Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens, Michael Leigh, Alan fffo, badgergirl, Carol Starr, Suse The Story So Far Fourteen wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger. But the badger is too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a stone. In the burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a broth ambrosia of the green grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep. The badger is dreaming that it was just a dream, there are no wolverines or lap dog because the badger was really awakened by the artist removing the paintbrush from the stone to begin painting for the morning. Little does the artist realize that the badger is in the burrow. Once the badger (a strange name for a badger some would say) is reassured as to its safety and breakfast is under way in the burrow; ambrosia of green grain and mushrooms with the added delight of mini marshmallows! The day is going well, but what was that strange sound? Thunder and a police siren mix with snoring. The badger jumps from his spot thinking the stone has imploded. When he hears the rain on the stone above, he realizes the electricity is still working, washes his face and soon falls back deep asleep. Hours later, Once, the badger, is awakened by the noise of wood against stone. It is night and the lap dog is yapping. The wolverines have surrounded the stone and are chanting an incantation. The badger doesn't breathe, not a whisker moves. Neither up nor down, although suspense is acrostic. After a paws of several minutes the badger quickly whips out his cross-stitched magic asbestos underpants and pulls them on ferociously. Once flings open the serving hatch and grabs the vial of sacred weasel water and makes a dot for the burrow entrance and confronts the seething mass of writhing wolverines squirming around the stone which is now glowing with a strange phosphorescent throb! 1 It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave yapping set apart the party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhe and chase and spurn the undergrowth around the latest beige badger silting. In the brave distance behoves the strange and incandescent foreshadows of wolverines and greenish melon lights upon the substantial forest fare. Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp and muttered - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I scents wolverines. Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in this lackadaisical pre-momentary of the word fandango. Meanwhile, or to be more precisereiouseless, high on hill stood a lonely man with a goathead, his fixedinterestrate stare directeddyboyhoodlesservilely at the burning black belching smokestacks of the town beyong the wolverine woods. The sound of a suddenly snuffeforadicalcified warps harp, brought memories back for Ludwig Hat, erstwhile butler and badger baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and Cara Van Hire. Ludwig stood immobile, imshelle and intexacoe, for Ludwig had been brained by falling groceries, dropped from almost a mile overhead and one mile and eight inches over shoulder, a result of the splitting of a cheap carrier pigeon on it's way home. Forcing his gaze downward Ludwig was horrified, not only had his part of the story not managed to settle on a definite form, not only did it lack content but now to his disgust he found that he had been rendereducededicateddyboyfriended by a tangerine!!! He couldn't even get that right. Ludwig crossed his eyes and dotted his teeth, relaxed and floated up, through the roof of his own mouth. Long and complicated wordadditions, he thought, canwearyoudownifyournot careful, and so he resolved to be more carefulinfuture. Win Cent the Magnificent and Cara, however, were seriously considering calling Sister Meg and entering into the fray. Sister Meg O'Lomania was after all acrostic champion frigidaire and good at getting badgers up and down and out of trees (and wolverines out of toasters for that matter.) Lap dogs she had no time for as their batteries always seemed to run out in the middle of a sent bottle of enormous palcritude. His eyes dilated and shuffled in the moonlight, his breathe came in short pants, his coughs in a skirt and his trousers rolled up like Venetian blinds caught in a mighty wurlitzer. Mrs. Shufflefang caught sight of herself in a nearby polished knob of a Milkman's portable pelmet crusher and she winced inwardly, tossing back a mane of flaxen hair that was tied in a bun and covered in currants. The badgers, for now there were five, all grabbed the reins of the milkman's horse and whipped it into a gallop and then into a small
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
you wrote: I seem to have come to an impass in the story as it says message truncated at trhe bottom and I cant find the bit I want to add too? How does one get around this? I'm just guessing here that it's only in the reply part that you can't see the story, but I'm on the case. You seem to be using Yahoo Mail. Try this: Click onMail Options. Go to General Preferences in middle column. Near the bottom, select Include full original message when replying. Instead of default Include part of the original message when replying. While you're there, maybe, change screen width from 55 to 72 (or 74). That way the messages won't wrap line by line and get all funny-looking. Hope that helps you and other yahoos, Kathy
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
---Many thanks Kathy for useful bit of info. hoping it will do the trick. Michael Kathy Forer [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: you wrote: I seem to have come to an impass in the story as it says message truncated at trhe bottom and I cant find the bit I want to add too? How does one get around this? I'm just guessing here that it's only in the reply part that you can't see the story, but I'm on the case. You seem to be using Yahoo Mail. Try this: Click onMail Options. Go to General Preferences in middle column. Near the bottom, select Include full original message when replying. Instead of default Include part of the original message when replying. While you're there, maybe, change screen width from 55 to 72 (or 74). That way the messages won't wrap line by line and get all funny-looking. Hope that helps you and other yahoos, Kathy Yahoo! Messenger - Communicate instantly...Ping your friends today! Download Messenger Now http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com/download/index.html
Re: FLUXLIST: Woman Smashes Dog - Call Flour Sentries!
--- Allan Revich [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: (Please add to the story wherever you see fit, add your name at the front and post it.) Man Bites Dog 42-page book made of fur, teeth, skin and bones Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens, Michael Leigh, Alan fffo, badgergirl, Carol Starr, Suse The Story So Far Fourteen wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger. But the badger is too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a stone. In the burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a broth ambrosia of the green grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep. The badger is dreaming that it was just a dream, there are no wolverines or lap dog because the badger was really awakened by the artist removing the paintbrush from the stone to begin painting for the morning. Little does the artist realize that the badger is in the burrow. Once the badger (a strange name for a badger some would say) is reassured as to its safety and breakfast is under way in the burrow; ambrosia of green grain and mushrooms with the added delight of mini marshmallows! The day is going well, but what was that strange sound? Thunder and a police siren mix with snoring. The badger jumps from his spot thinking the stone has imploded. When he hears the rain on the stone above, he realizes the electricity is still working, washes his face and soon falls back deep asleep. Hours later, Once, the badger, is awakened by the noise of wood against stone. It is night and the lap dog is yapping. The wolverines have surrounded the stone and are chanting an incantation. The badger doesn't breathe, not a whisker moves. Neither up nor down, although suspense is acrostic. After a paws of several minutes the badger quickly whips out his cross-stitched magic asbestos underpants and pulls them on ferociously. Once flings open the serving hatch and grabs the vial of sacred weasel water and makes a dot for the burrow entrance and confronts the seething mass of writhing wolverines squirming around the stone which is now glowing with a strange phosphorescent throb! 1 It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave yapping set apart the party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhe and chase and spurn the undergrowth around the latest beige badger silting. In the brave distance behoves the strange and incandescent foreshadows of wolverines and greenish melon lights upon the substantial forest fare. Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp and muttered - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I scents wolverines. Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in this lackadaisical pre-momentary of the word fandango. Meanwhile, or to be more precisereiouseless, high on hill stood a lonely man with a goathead, his fixedinterestrate stare directeddyboyhoodlesservilely at the burning black belching smokestacks of the town beyong the wolverine woods. The sound of a suddenly snuffeforadicalcified warps harp, brought memories back for Ludwig Hat, erstwhile butler and badger baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and Cara Van Hire. Ludwig stood immobile, imshelle and intexacoe, for Ludwig had been brained by falling groceries, dropped from almost a mile overhead and one mile and eight inches over shoulder, a result of the splitting of a cheap carrier pigeon on it's way home. Forcing his gaze downward Ludwig was horrified, not only had his part of the story not managed to settle on a definite form, not only did it lack content but now to his disgust he found that he had been rendereducededicateddyboyfriended by a tangerine!!! He couldn't even get that right. Ludwig crossed his eyes and dotted his teeth, relaxed and floated up, through the roof of his own mouth. Long and complicated wordadditions, he thought, canwearyoudownifyournot careful, and so he resolved to be more carefulinfuture. Win Cent the Magnificent and Cara, however, were seriously considering calling Sister Meg and entering into the fray. Sister Meg O'Lomania was after all acrostic champion frigidaire and good at getting badgers up and down and out of trees (and wolverines out of toasters for that matter.) Lap dogs she had no time for as their batteries always seemed to run out in the middle of a sent bottle of enormous palcritude. His eyes dilated and shuffled in the moonlight, his breathe came in short pants, his coughs in a skirt and his trousers rolled up like Venetian blinds caught in a mighty wurlitzer. Mrs. Shufflefang caught sight of herself in a nearby polished knob of a Milkman's portable pelmet crusher and she winced inwardly, tossing back a mane of flaxen hair that was tied in a bun and covered in currants. The badgers, for now there were five, all grabbed the reins of the milkman's horse and whipped it into a gallop and then into a small tea shop where it scattered several old ladies and a troupe of
FLUXLIST: calling NorthAmerica®
Hello fluxlist Out of lurk mode to see if Cali-forni-folk on this list are interested in responding to this request from the daughter of one of my oldest friends. I imagine interesting invitations from elsewhere in NorthAmerica® might also be considered. Roshana recently threw up a music conservatoire route for visual/audio art - in particular video/film - her mum my friend is ex dancer/actor/perf-arts-curator and R's dada (oops) is a live artist of some renown, currently in China on business. Don't know Jessica but wouldn't bet against her being an interesting young woman also. Best w Chris P Hello everyone, My partner Jessica and I are planning a trip to the states and were wondering if you know, or know of anyone who could accommodate us in San Francisco and/or LA? Or if you know of anywhere cheap and safe we could stay? It will be for approximately one week (in each place) in August. Gay friendly is imperative. Thank You, Roshana and Jessica -- Chris Paul http://www.chapelstreet.org http://www.idea.org.uk/archive idea - a catalyst for art and ideas 44 7976 949 853
