Category Archives: Art

The Age of Idleness

We stand idle in the heat

 Crammed onto a platform waiting for a train delayed by 10 minutes

The  platform is overcrowded 

move down the platform, move down the platform the announcer keeps saying

To where I wonder

I have spent the last 8 hours idly moving data around a spreadsheet

something a computer could and should have done 

It arrives

Torture

People aren’t actually social

Not this close

That horror ends

now we wait in the little shade provided by a tram stop roof

Idly

Again we cram into a small hot box with windows

Staring at our phones 

Distraction the only sanity

Soon it will end

Home

Too tired for life to begin

Tomorrow the idleness begins anew.

David J Campbell

Forgotten Millpond

“The sea, calm as a millpond, without a ripple, was breathing slowly but deeply” Georges Simenon – The Mahe Circle, 1946

 

We don’t write well anymore because we don’t have the time to absorb our surroundings

 

We must

catch the train

plan the weekend

work 8 hours a day

plot an escape

cook dinner

post something online

pay the bills

 

When was the last time you watched clouds float across the sky

dancing in the wind

Without feeling guilty for wasting time

 

It is not just writing that suffers

 

For writing us just an expression of meaning

 

We lose a purpose to our toil

To our life

Without meaning from slowness all our busy efforts become unfulfilling

 

Georges Simenon wrote those lines more than a half a century ago in a time where there was less to do

And contemplation rather than distraction was desired

 

Can you find meaning looking into a millpond

You will have to try to find out

 

 

David J Campbell

 

Fluid writing : It could just be that I’m tired of putting in punctuation

Delete the unnecessary!

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Fluid writing

Lets just imagine I want to create a new style of writing one without the old syntax and apostrophes but rather to just have a stream of words and then possibly a directional indicator to tell people when I have started a new or similar stream and then another when I have gone back to my original point or rambling as you might call it and really no full stops or paragraphs as the point is never really made never completed things are fluid are constantly changing so the point you just made no matter how accurate could not possibly be spot on now because things have changed and if it were spot on now that would be pure luck and prove only that you weren’t spot on before

 

However perhaps a gap could signify a pause a breath a moment of peace to absorb and a signal that the writer rested yes the writer rested

paused for a moment to reflect on their realisation that we have made writing more like speech more like a speech

using spaces to signify the writers action

and maybe up and down arrows for changes in direction or perhaps they aren’t necessary at all

we will just talk

make sense

think

and it starts to look like poetry

because poetry came from the spoken word not the written

perhaps essays not poetry should be written like this perhaps all writing

[GARD]

DJ Campbell

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Pets

Many years from now a girl was born into a family of outcasts, her name Redarre – the savior, for it would be her destiny to save her family by becoming a pet.

 

The world into which she was born, in so many ways similar to ours in its stratification, but different in what humans had become. One group had become gods – homo deus. They lived for many hundreds of years, were highly intelligent having fused with the great data bank so they instantly knew all that had gone before and much of what was to come. They could see every corner of the planet and could affect the outcomes of those outside the city with their drones and henchmen.

 

Supporting the gods were a group or bureaucrats, technicians, philosophers and politicians who controlled the policies and codes of the tools that made the gods powerful.

 

Outside the city, the link between the real world and the badlands were the gangs, henchmen and traders, all with some crude enhanced abilities but in some way imperfect. A trader that is too greedy, a henchman prone to outbursts of rage, a mentally retarded gang member, all these ran the fringes between Redarre’s family and the real world.

 

Redarre was born to a family of outcasts living in the semi desert of what used to be Australia, they survived, barely, by hunting foraging and trading with the fringe dwellers.

 

What did they have to trade you may ask? In a world were all labour had been replaced by machines what could a simple person offer a god? Well the gods did not want of the outcasts, actually they saw them more as a type of fauna, but the bureaucrats had taken a liking to them. They had upgraded them you might say from fauna to pets. A new fashion had swept the city in the decades previously – the owning of human pets. The bureaucrats would compete with each other by having the prettiest, most pampered, most talkative and most entertaining pet.

 

Redarre’s parents had heard rumours that the pets were pampered with fine clothes, expensive food, their own houses and could even have natural families and eventually integrate into the city. Her parents hoped she could also send food and gold so they could build a proper house, dig a well and make a village.

[GARD]
Three days walk away was a pet market at El-afri a town just outside the perimeter. It’s existence is a bit odd, monitored by the gods it was allowed to be much like a modern town now with electricity, computers, vehicles and even an administration of sorts. The gods should have either intergrated it into the real world or dispersed it so its inhabitants became fauna, but still it existed. People speculated that the gods were nostalgic for a foregone past when they to were simpler, and had to deal with mundane problems like family feuds and mundane work.

 

Before Redarre, her mother and her father could go to the market at El-Afri they first had to seek out a beautician. Minto lived in a dugout and was one of the ugliest women Redarre had ever seen, matted long hair, pot-marked and lined skin, hunched and old, very very old. Some said she was a sorceress, and could do magic turning the old young and the infirm healthy. She would want payment though.

 

Minto had been banished from the real world many years before perhaps hundreds but when she left she brought some of their technology with her. Genetic stem cell modification – that was her magic. Her payment was a small chip implanted under Redarre’s skin the function of which was for Minto’s mind only.

 

The results were stunning Redarre was bright, flawless and gorgeous.

 

El-Afri was like nothing the family had ever seen giants walked with tiny people, beauty with danger, guns and gold everywhere trade and exchange, fights and intoxication, laughter and tears. A dark man with a curled moustache noticed them as foreign and approached “I know the way to the pet market” he motioned for them to “a small commission of the price and I’ll be your agent”. Knowing no better they followed him into a large hall with a stage. Redarre was separated from her parents by the broker and ushered towards the stage. Once presented the bidding ensued 100, 150, 200. The final price was 650 pieces less the commission of 200 and Redarre was gone. Whisked away to the cleansing station.

 

Her parents did not even get to say goodbye but they felt comfortable with their newfound wealth, Redarre’s promising future and the comfort that if she could she would find them again.

 

They would never know that most of their dreams would be dashed in the cleansing station where Redarre was fumigated, desexed and had her voicebox removed. The fashion for entertaining pets had passed and now ornamental pets were preferred, she would spend her time be gawked at and preened then locked in a dark cell so light did not damage her skin. There would be no children, no house of her own and no joy.

 

But her new owners thought she made a great pet.
[GARD]
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Jim Sullivan –“UFO”

In 1969 the brilliant and enigmatic singer songwriter Jim Sullivan released what may be a prophetic album UFO.

In 2010 a reissue of UFO was released by Light in the Attic an American Reissue label that specializes in obscure albums. The boffins at Light in the Attic spent some time trying to locate the original Master tapes but unfortunately after an extensive search concluded that they were destroyed some time ago.

 

So they transferred the best music from the vinyl copies available and the results are of a high standard.

 

In the Title track “UFO” Jim Sullivan sings about going into the desert to look for a UFO that will abduct him “Looking at the Sun dancing through the sky. Did he come by UFO?”

[GARD]

In 1975 the Jim Sullivan story took a turn that made it the stuff of folklore or perhaps conspiracy theories. With his career going nowhere he decided to try and get some session work in Nashville. He took off from Los Angeles through the Joshua tree filled deserts of Nevada. The following day his car was found abandoned with his beloved guitar which was always by his side. Not a sign of the the musician nor any foul play. Sullivan has never been seen since. Could it be that the title track on his 1969 album would become a case of life imitating art?

 

On the whole UFO is a strangely haunting album – not only because of the back story – with some gorgeous string arrangements and accessible lyrics. The sessions also featured some members of the famous Wrecking Crew. If you are a fan of Fred Neil, Tim Buckley, Tim Hardin or Nick Drake you will easily take to this lost masterpiece .