Bauble from a set of Noel Edmonds themed Christmas decorations. To know that these only exist in my mind at present may bring you a sense of relief, but to exist in a mind is to nevertheless exist. Bad trip hell personified.
The housing development just across from Wakefield Aldi is sure worth a wander while your third eye's open...
Is the window dresser making a genuine attempt to sell things here? OR JUST MESSING WITH THE MINDS OF PASSING ACID HEADS??????????
[PS Is there any shit more fucked up than a doll shop?]
"a good looking 50 year old man with floppy brown hair and a stripey t-shirt has a conversation with a sentient vain waterfall"
This is something that my friend Gemma Rossi has very deftly linguistically shepherded AI into generating, inspired by that recent encounter of mine with a particularly assured and forceful waterfall in Aysgarth. Note the terms to use if you want to make an AI version of me, though you will basically end up with a French bloke.
On the supernatural TV show Sapphire and Steel, there was this one shit scary story about a being with no face who lurked malevolently in every photograph. At around about the same time, the admittedly far less malevolent Pam Ayres seemed to be lurking everywhere on TV light entertainment schedules, ready to pounce and recite gently comedic poetry with a homely rustic twang - which seems at this moment to me, in its own way, equally shit scary. Many children no doubt hid behind the sofa when she was on, just like I'm hiding behind my sofa now from this collection of her verse. I found it on the book exchange table at my local supermarket and ill-advisedly decided to flick through it just as I was coming up. Sapphire! Steel! Or any medium atomic weight element! Heeeeeeeeeeeelp!
Sapphire and Steel is pretty definitive Middle England on LSD itself by the way. I can't find the whole of Assignment 4 online but here is a link to episode 2: Sapphire and Steel Assignment 4 episode 2
Watch that on acid at your own risk. But could it ever be as fucking fucked as this?: Pam Ayres meat commercial - arrrrgggghhhhhhh......
On a recent trip to Suffolk I was trying to take some subtly trippy pictures of the place that gave good Middle England with a psychedelic edge. What I ended up with though was a bunch of pleasant holiday snaps of some touristy things that look quite nice anyway. In an effort to salvage something from the process, I've decided to edit some of them in the style of a promo campaign by the Suffolk County Tourist Board extolling the merits of the region as somewhere for people to come to get wasted. Very good indeed for the local economy, and I'm certain it's what the Suffolk County Tourist Board would want if it actually existed*. Furthermore, it's occurred to me that by default I might well be the Suffolk County Tourist Board, and this is definitely what I would recommend.
A few weeks on now, I must say that I've started taking my role as the Suffolk County Tourist Board very seriously. At present I'm having a big push to get people to consider Aldeburgh for day trips. And if you want to hear about commitment, I had to lie on the ground in concerning proximity to some dog poo to get that shot of the spiral staircase. 4 real. (Apart from the @FuckingSuffolked twitter/X account, which sadly isn't 4 real, but perhaps should be.)
[*It doesn't seem to exist, anyway. Hey SCTB, if you do exist, get in touch and let's collab. There's no local tourist board in the country that wouldn't reap the benefits of a psychedelic rebrand. It'd be certain to get the area a feature on something like Countryfile or regional television.]
Blimey - these Mike Oldfield overdubs get everywhere, don't they? This mysterious thing called existence will always have extra tracks for him to fill.
Transportation Professional is the magazine of the Institution of Highways and Transportation. Within its pages are articles on a fascinating array of topics ranging from award-winning aqueducts to runway friction. Making the cover of Transportation Professional is the transport industry equivalent of being on the cover of Vogue, Rolling Stone, Esquire and so on in the world of glossy magazines.
So, well done Chris Jackson on getting there. The fucker's fucking fucked though, that's for sure. At least there's only one of him, you might point out in reply. The problem is - and I've spent the entire night looking at his picture to confirm this - his face is in a perpetual state of transmogrification. First comes the slight, knowing smile, of course, like he might be tripping too. Next comes the warping and swirling - subtle to begin with, then more and more pronounced - till things get pretty fucked up. Really fucked up, in fact - I think, on balance, in a good way.
Chris Jackson, I salute you. You are indeed The Transportation Professional.