You have probably noticed the Internet is awash with articles, blogs and websites promoting ‘natural health,’ or ads for the latest new ‘wonder food’ that will make you thinner, healthier or smarter than Einstein.
There is also a steady stream of stories in the media telling us how this latest study contradicts the many previous studies, and in fact a diet based around lard, cigarettes and heroin is perfectly fine, in moderation of course.
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When I was young I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, apart from taller.
I showed a keen interest in science and space exploration at an early age, but sadly my eventual application to astronaut school was rejected, on the grounds of my flat feet and shortsightedness. That, and the complete lack of a science degree, flying experience, courage, or any of the usual qualities they tend to look for in potential astronauts.
‘An octopus is not a cat,’
Miles said, ‘It’s plain to see;
it’s hard to keep one in a flat,
or sit one on your knees.’
The squid’s another cephalopod,
Miles got one: “just for laughs”;
it’s not as friendly as a dog,
but it’s much more keen on baths.
‘I cook it fishcakes every day,’
he told his best friend, Peg;
she looked at him in a sceptical way,
and said: ‘Pull the other leg.’
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He watches patiently, staying low and out of sight. In the darkness, he creeps forward silently, staying in the shadows, avoiding the pools of light from the street lamps. He has sighted his prey.
It’s a chilly and moonless night, with little sound but the slight rustling of trees and bushes. Somewhere very far-off, a car alarm starts up. He pauses, then proceeds silently, stealthy as any Ninja-assassin.
His modus operandi is always the same – strike fast, under cover of darkness, leaving his victims no time to react. His weapons are razor sharp. His cold terrifying gaze strikes fear into their pounding hearts. And there have been so many victims.
Read part one and part two of the story.
The situation looked grim – the demonstration outside New York’s Hall of Science was turning into a riot as more and more of the city’s thugs and crazies arrived to join in the melee. Salma was down, injured, Spark almost out of juice and Ray Flint – Rational Ray – seemed to be missing in action.
Will the forces of idiocy prevail? It’s time to find out..
Spark crawled across the grass to Salma’s side. Blood trickled down from her temple, giving him grave cause for concern. Her attacker, a hulking brute with shaved head and swastika tattoos was still close by, but just out of his reach. Perhaps he could manage one last stun before his battery ran flat. Where in the name of fuck was Ray?
A brief break from the nail-biting fictional dystopia to honour World Poetry Day – 21st March. Here it is, for better or worse, something silly – a little light verse.
What’s up with Dave?
There was always something odd about Dave,
Maybe it was the shouting at trees?
The fact he ate slugs, and lived in a cave,
Or perhaps ‘cos his friends were all bees.
From his fondness for swearing,
And demeanour – quite scary;
To the mask he was wearing,
He made most folks wary.
I saw him while fishing,
He seemed fairly chipper;
Although his jacket was missing,
And his tie was a kipper!
It’s easy to smirk,
To snigger and stare;
But Dave is no jerk,
He’s an odd billionaire.
***
Walkies
I took my snake out for a walk today,
Down to the lake with the talking carp;
While I sat and watched pink elephants play,
He splashed about, it was such a lark.
Sparrows roared, then danced a jig,
A duckling laughed, and clapped with glee;
I found it strange, my eyes grew big,
Maybe someone’s spiked my tea?
Copyright J.Lennick 2016. All rights reserved.
Read part one of this story here
Raymond Flint – Aka Rational Ray – and his trusted robotic companion Spark are en route to New York’s Hall of Science in Queens, after a series of texts from Salma Rivera – Aka Reason Gal – had alerted our hero to the increasingly hostile protests going on outside the building. Although a number of prominent friends and colleagues from the world of science were attending a meeting inside, it was the safety of those on the outside that concerned him more.
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Raymond Flint, known to millions from his radio shows and books as Rational Ray, walked to the window and gazed down at the milling crowds in the street outside his building. His once fairly secret address was now besieged by the legions of the dumb. Bearing crudely made signs and bellowing barely-literate nonsense, they had become a daily irritation in the life of this quiet and unassuming science advocate and former martial arts star.
To many of his fans he was something of a superhero, a label he rejected, on the grounds he was neither super, nor especially heroic, but they seemed to need him to be one, so he was rather stuck with it, for now. The tagline Bruce Lee with a PhD also made him cringe, but it had become a catchy slogan for many.
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This post is a bit of a departure from my usual ramblings, partly in an effort to avoid the dangers of routine and comfort that we all can so easily slip into. Please do not attempt to adjust your cognition equipment.
So let’s start by shaking off the chains of convention and get loosened up with some DIY primal screaming therapy. (This is best done totally nude) Ready?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH!!!
There, that’s better, I feel fired up and ready for action. How about you? I just hope the neighbours haven’t called the Police. Again. Better get dressed now and get cracking.
It seems our cultures have something of an obsession with superheroes. The enduring myth of a superior being, a saviour figure not held back by mere mortal limitations who sacrifices himself to save mankind. Does that sound like someone familiar? A figure revered by millions throughout the western world? Yes, of course, it’s Superman.
He has died quite a few times over the years, but keeps on getting resurrected. I guess the world cannot do without this ultimate hero in the jolly red underpants and cape.
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Halfbananas - humour, short fiction & verse 