The Wonders of Scraps


Scraps -      various ends and beginnings and in-betweens that form what can be known as scraps ,  encompassing a range of the physical, the not, and the other.  Scrapings from the brains, the limits and just beyond of science, shovels full of souls, and owt else that doesn't form a recognised space or 'norm' yet, to some.

Here are things both found and made.

As is always, all are equal.

                               
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Found Pet Poster.










Found this stuck to a lamppost.





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Life-Force



An amazing discovery, at the cutting edge of science & investigative journalism, this Flan was found, trying to communicate!  Experts have worked around the clock to assist this commune, and to also see how this happened & what it really means to us all.


And Here It Is, Pictured Alongside, The First, (human heard) Decree of Flan...






This was the result of that hard work of many to interpret the message of this incredible Flan and in the manner it wished, through sign, passion & flair! 


Putting the startling nature of this statement/threat to 1 side for the moment, the Flan, frankly looks great, and the notion that life force has transferred beyond the grain, to flan, and is now constant is truly fascinating.


But we also have a special recording taken from within the Flan, with the aid of the latest technology available.  The latest flan-sensitive microphones were inserted, with permission, (utilising 'polenta based pickups' for extra amplification) & and reached what is believed at current to be the stomach of the thing.  Now, we are able to glimpse what's really going on inside this man eating beast and hear for ourselves, it's own inner proclamation. 



So Lets Go Deep Down, 

Into The Filling Of The Flan.








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Don't get Lost - Don't get Found










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The Spider That Spins Wood


A spider has been discovered that spins a wood like substance instead of silk or thread.

This spider also has a unique method of catching its food, by sawing off little bits of its web, akin to loosening the steps of a ladder.   So when a fly lands, they think it's all perfectly solid, clearly in order and fair game.  And the really interesting part is when the fly steps on one of the 'loose' bits. They just slip through and fall to the ground, as though the floor or air has been removed from under them. They do not as you would expect fly away.  

Theories so far suggest it is because it is a truly alien experience for these tiny creatures, as they have been far too light to break any known leaf or branch that they may have landed on in the long history of their existence.  The shock therefore, allows for this fall.  And on the ground, the collision offers an opening for the trap setter to slink down and collect its bounty.



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No Church Faith Advert.



Caught this slogan from a breakaway group of the Christian Faith, who promote a churchless way and an openness to other ideas.




God isn't interested in what's in your bin...

He already knows




So he knows without looking in, he's not bothered by it, it doesn't matter, and he won't be doing anything, ever, with the detailed knowledge that he accrues, or is already there.

Not sure if it's on purpose but I found it quite zen.





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The 5 Meat Sweats Theory.


This theory put forth by fringe scientist Elmund Took is based around his idea that "we have all supressed a natural sweat.  Our wet seeps here on earth are not what we should be pumping out naturally. With deodorants, medicated cattle, drugged up greens, and general tension that keeps the real sweat at bay, locked up and unhappy."


After researching and experimenting, he has offered up "The Real Sweats", which is what we would hypothetically sweat out, if we removed all the artificial factors we have been used to, for a an extensive period of time.  Our sweats would then return to their natural state, and as he puts it, "they could even be fun". 

Here is his list of what you could expect from a real flowing sweat, and simple suggestions in handling them.

(Take note, he is unsure whether these would be these the final stages, or whether they would be stages in detoxification.)









The Meat                                                          The Sweat       





1. Lamb -        Comes out globule, as tiny fluffy spheres, at first.  Then once through, resumes its chunk

(Scoop off)






2. Pork -         Crackles to the surface and explodes in 'poofs' of pork particles.  Like popcorn.

(Open windows)






3. Beef -         Surprisingly tidal, popping out and in and so forth.

(Patience, stop grabbing, and enjoy the tease)





4. Chicken -     (he gets a bit poetic here) "Flies and floats on near breezes".  Like pulling feathers out of a pillow.  So if you feel a bony point under the surface of your armpit, jabbing your finger or interrupting a lover's caress (the only 2 scenarios?Yes), chances are it's the chicken.

(Pull, blow and follow)






5. Sea meat  -  "Will suck fabric towards your skin, tight, and seep into it and swim through and away".

If you're wearing a top with this one, the path of wet sweat can be seen travelling across your clothes, all the way to the end, where it will then throw itself off the edge, bit by bit.

(Head quietly to hard ground, away from carpets/fabrics)










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WEDDING POEM.


When all the soil has turned
Just a little in any direction,

And two lovers join something,
Showing another
And swap their coat buttons,

Behold the cave
That on this day
All rabbits will piss into,

A wonder and a beware
As their piss is clear
this night.





This was a poem written for a friend for his wedding. 

When it was read out, the general reaction observed was a squint and looking around at others.

The inspiration was the rare mystical alignment of each animal of a species doing the same thing, at once, in the same place, on a special occasion, and such a thing that whilst not being healthy to get yourself into, would be,if it happened, quite an event and sight. 
And the extra key to all this, was to be able to avoid what would seem like lots of water on such a lovely eve.










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Corn Bread



The 'Weather Kids' don't know corn bread.

But they try, And one of them likes it.


"Sweet"

And she feels the "pixelations"

"Swear I can taste walls of cells breaking"

It's that grainy nature of it she is describing, like a natural pixel.


But

All bits are together,

Even those crumbs down there - 



"Don't worry crumbs, you're still a part of it."






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Body



The Body  stood, opened up and exploded...



Skin peeled and covered the cold and those that were,


The Heart flew off towards the open window and as it passed through it pumped love as bloodysmoke to those without,


The Brainflew up and exploded like a firework of grey flora - beautiful neurons scattered and gave tiny smiling nips to whoever they touched.


Intestines joined the hands of those nearby and vibrated beyond the call of duty


{ "No Pain" - this labelling was released, spelt through the many liquids, blood, tissue fluid etc  "It's just sensations" the mouth managed to spurt}


The Liver hit the corner of the room and spelt the 'THUD' it hit with, as did the dust it had disturbed on the ceiling beam.


The Appendix squeezed through the keyhole screaming "I'm doing this, hear me!"  It's voice?  Like orange peel and harps.


Thoughts piled into the left of the room - Multiplied, Thickened, and Encrusted the new body body against the wall.



The body tried standing, again, first, then it bent -  and the thoughts disappeared.




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A Very Short Story.


Now the choice to make.  His chest may rise and fall as though breathing, but this has not been promised.  But if I push my hand under his, he will hold back, with his hand, which will be warm like any other, always they guarantee, whilst the rest will cool and settle there.
Is it enough to do it for this.  Today it is.



This is a flash fiction version of an idea based around the death of someone close, in this case a dad.  And if it was possible to have that person still with you and not rot away, yet not live, in our commonly understood way, would you choose this. 
They would appear to be sleeping.






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3 comments:

  1. I was lucky enough to see the Wedding Poem Live (2010) so I recall those squints. (Piss?! At a wedding?! The dirty bastards.) Lovely though, like swapping coat buttons.

    I am moved by your very short story, it is beautiful and makes me feel like a clock has stopped, all time has stopped, and there is just the warm hold of someone's hand who we have lost.

    Thank you for sharing these things with us.

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  2. Thanks for that, yes a nice ritual for a union I feel the button swap, and shortsighted I feel to reject piss at such a time,when all such all things will come to be embraced. And it was a mystical pissing of proportions as well. (and yet not really about pissing at all). And thank you for the story comments.

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