A jazzy, jocular and, quite frankly, jiggery jumble of jurisdiction, which will provide you, reader, with some seriously perceptive perceptions and promises not to discombobulate you with gratuitous language (har!). No, really, Lohm Snowrocket the Third will keep it as real as possible, and tackle the sporadic, yet serious issues that resemble the flotsam and jetsam of his crystalline intellect. Please do tune in, it will be fun for all, and we're cooking cakes later for tea.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

ANY HUMAN HEART?


Yes, hello there.

Welcome to my third post (- your welcome to it.) Hmmmm, contemplative. Contemplating the phrase Any Human Heart. Is is a phrase I hear you say. Correction, I heard me say it in my head - funny that, did I actually hear me say it or did I just think it? Do you hear your thoughts, or is hearing thoughts the same as hearing voices. Because that's not good. Also, on this same riveting stream of consciousness, are you aware of everything you think? Because, the other morning I was suffering a quite horrid hangover, and as I lay there, trying to find a position in which I didn't feel acute nausea, all this random dialogue and sporadic madness kept drifting through my mind. For instance, at one point two moles were holding a conversation inside a bag of potatoes. Then, when stranded out at sea, I was refused entry to a boat because I didn't have the right microwave fitting. Eventually when I did get rescued, I was arrested for speaking in Polish. Now this may sound like a crazy dream scenario, but I was actually lay there, wide awake, as this feverish delirium swepth through my mind. And while lay there helpless, I couldn't help wonder, am I actually thinking and creating this madness myself, or is it just my mad subconscious seeping through in some warped, inebriated daydream? A daydream is a romantic notion I feel.

Anyway, back to Any Human Heart. And me. I read the book with aforesaid title (by William Boyd) a while ago, but since reccomending it to a dear friend of mine - check him out folks (folks?! who am I kidding!) his syntax is orsum (phonetic spelling for you) - http://lifeturnsasharpcorner.blogspot.com/ - I have been pondering over it quite a lot. I will not go into detail about the book, but will just say that it's a fantastically emotive journey through life and induces great emotion in the reader. In fact, it is only 1 of 2 books I have read that when I get to the end I feel sad that it is over, and I can find no higher praise for a novel than that. But 'Any Human Heart'...have I got any human heart? (I hope it's not just anyone's!) Do some people simply feel more than others? Hmmm, it's quite an amazing thing, a human heart. If that is where feelings, emotions, depth and complexitiy come from, I'm afraid I know little of anatomy, so am merely going on the common peception that you feel in the heart. Why if so, the heart is an uinque, beautiful organ. Figuratively speaking, anway. I wonder if you can truly break someone's heart? I think most creatures have hearts, though. (I would say all but I am honestly not sure!!! Are flies big enough to have hearts?!) So what sets the human heart apart? Maybe its our consciousness, our self-awareness, our accentuated level of feeling for others.

I don't know why I've had this discussion. But I feel better now I have had it. So fuck off; have a heart. And be careful with it. For it is not just any human heart, it is your own.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

RED SQUIRRELS: TOO LONG IN EXILE?

Good morning folks and folk-musicians, Lohm Snowrocket here, performing to an audience of one. But no matter, for today we are addressing a veryyyyy serious issue, oh yes - The Battle of the Squirrels.

Let me start this post with a thought-provoking statement: In England, grey squirrels now outnumber red squirrels 66 to 1!! Now something is definitely going down here - in my youth I can remember barley fields absolutely rammed with red squirrels (and barley), and have fond, fond memories of loosening my tunic and shimmying away amidst all those marvelous shades of red. Now if I fancy a dance with some squirrels, I get chased out of those same fields by the boorish greys - they're too busy copulating and nut-collecting. Above is a photograph I snapped earlier of that tyrant of the squirrel community: The Grey. I snapped him as he was prowling around my garden, with his 'pimp-roll' swagger and aggressive demeanor, on the look out for red squirrels and large dogs to fight. (Okay, it took me over an hour to create the picture in Paint, which I did because I was worried about using a pic off the net in case I got sued for breach of copyright, or even slander.) Naturally, I ushered my three cats inside immediately, and even told Lohm the First and Second (stop being lazy and read my profile) to beware: for these beasts are mean. Now I ask you reader - When was the last time you saw a red squirrel, eh? (Anyone who has seen one recently, please keep quiet.) The fact of the matter is that there are only 30000 red squirrels left in England, and most of them are under Police Protection, living in safe houses and garden centers. There is a war going on, folks, and the Reds are currently losing 14 - 1.

This is all began in the fateful year of 1876 (no, really) - The year of the Grey Invasion. It was a very grey day, the sky overcast, mist low-lying all around the Southern shore, when a lone grey boat landed at Dover. The captain of the ship - a scoundrel by the name of Marlow Skopcottle - had been bribed by the invading hoard of grey squirrels, and transported 10000 of them across from North America, for a tin of Earl Grey. At first, and here is the great irony of the story, the red squirrels were overjoyed to see more of their kind, and shimmying down to the coast, they danced with them on the beaches, and danced with them on the shore. But the grey squirrels only knew the foxtrot, and quite frankly, resented being outdanced by natives. So when the red squirrels invited them back to their woodland for a cup of tea, the greys attacked them with sticks and twigs, and drove them out of their own homes. This antipathy has presided ever since, with red squirrels regularly being burnt at the stake by the greys. This has only recently come to public light, though, as these macabre purges have been cleverly coincided with human events such as barbecues, factory fires and especially Bonfire Night - where no one really minds a toasted squirrel. But this behaviour cannot be condoned. Or can it? For a solution has been proposed by Lord Inglewood himself, namely to eat grey squirrels (no joke). He has called for TV chefs, such as Jamie Oliver, to launch a campaign to promote the eating of grey squirrels, and to integrate it into school dinners, although I'm not sure if a squirrel will fit in a lunchbox - you may have to kill it first. So there you have it. The word on the street, however, is that Inglewood is actually just a large red squirrel, grown fat on custard, waging a propaganda battle on the grey's. Whatever the truth may be, this occurrence undoubtedly represents a seminal moment in the Battle Of The Squirrels, and could resemble one of the amusing yarns you will tell your grandkids in years to come: The Day I Ate A Squirrel.

Reporter Lohm Snowrocket - On the tail of the grey squirrels.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

SNOWROCKET'S CAPTION COMPETITION. QUICK, ENTER BEFORE THE RUSH



Hello dere! This is the Official Initial Post from Lohm Snowrocket the Third.

I'm a newcomer to this blogging game but tell all you're friends that I've arrived on the scene, and I'm wearing salmon trousers just to impress them. Anyway, I thought I would start off my blogging career with a Caption Competition (oh, how exciting!!) - now I want you to really think hard about this, and get back to me with your wittiest and downright outrageous comments on this amusing photo above. The winner gets a serious amount of respect from the celebrated Snowrocket family, and will become the first member of the soon-to-be-established SNOWROCKET HALL OF FAME (how exciting!!2) If..err no one actually applies, and I can't cajole my friends into making my blog seem jazzy and popular, thenI will defy you all by entering myself, so ha!

What's more (what is more?), I am considering getting Adsense, so I can advertise chickens on this post. I am also considering posting chickens, just to be different. And for Christmas, I would very much like lots of people to read my blog, so if you know any tips on how to do this, please read my blog, then tell me!

Here is a reader's receipt (not recipe, sorry) for you, just in case you doubt the content of this post: This blog will be exorbitantly interesting and deal with groovy topics oh so very soon, signed me, Lohm the Third, owner of a deep breath.

Over and out, apple up ye snout, Lord Snowrocket 06.