A Basement, 2001

In the forest I see the blinking eyes of my ancestors. The trees are alive and naked. In the moonlight, they are evil; in the sun, good. The red red berries, from what I hear, will get you gloriously high, but will, unfortunately, kill you, too. It's written in a Bowie song--one he never recorded. Let's get off the berries now... What a thin and funky junky... Ah yes in the trees are howling monkeys. And sound waves. Notes fall and crash and make all the noise hypothesized by Gurdjeff. I met him once in a cafe beneath a darkening sky. He was quiet.

Once I knew a jazzer by the name of Don Trebblehorn. He was full of shit and beauty but always pissed at the London Jazz Society. He was good to smoke a joint with but I can't imagine him sober. He would be a frightened cat and spray everywhere. Where's your holy music now? Are you afraid because you dreamed your life away? Oh yes, it's gone, you shriveled up piece of beef jerky.

Let's have a dinner party with Baudelaire and Shakespeare. We'll allow only artists, but we'll let in the shit with the others because if we only allowed the good ones it would be dull and not a party. We'll tell them how Google has made us stoopid but told us everything. We'll toast wikipedia but not think about it too deeply. Then we'll do a hippie drum circle and some cock with a keyboard on his tie will twitter on a flute. Oh, come one and all! It will be farcical and bleak!

Let's. For fun. We'll forget about the dark monkeys in the trees. We'll forget about the noise...

... Good morning, love. I don't know how you got here but you're here and so am I. Let's go drink absinthe and sunbathe on the balcony. Let's develop a grand Aesthetic and start an artistic revolution. But, don't worry, we'll probably just get drunk. Maybe if we're lucky and ask them nicely the gods will mute the colours and make it look like an old movie. I'll be James Dean and you can be Brigitte Bardot. Burn me, Apollo, but not so much that I cook, just so much that I sizzle for a bit and then shut up for once.

Let's. For fun. Then we'll fall asleep and forget all about it. There's shopping to be done.