Little Old Me
 



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Punctuation


P = Question Mark


U = Quotation Mark & Hyphen


N =Open Bracket


C = Apostrophe & Comma


T = Semicolon & Slash


U = Close Bracket


A = Close Brace & Open Brace


T = Ellipsis & Colon


I = Exclamation Mark


O = Full Stop


N = Open Parenthesis & Dash & Close Parenthesis


 


All the punctuation marks used only once with each letter made up of the symbols themselves with only scale and rotation used to represent each letter.


Just something I knocked together for a T-shirt.

22.6.05 09:22


All roads roam to Leeds

I am hoping to get away from the hospital/medical theme that has blighted my blog of late. It was reaching the point of not being able to see through it... opaque - to match my various other aches )


So I am touching on the subject of new buildings in Leeds. Specifically the proposed 'kite' tower.



Very nice, or is it? I am quite a fan of modern architecture (not at the expense of the old though) I do love a outrageous design or two, my favourites being around and about La Defence in Paris (La Grande Arche is my top dog at the moment) and Futuroscope Parc also in France. I like the view you are forced into of the precariously balanced tower, on the left of the picture, which hides the triangular base to great effect, leading you into the notion that the visible 'holes' at the top (wind turbines) are there to let the wind through so as not to topple the whole thing.



I also think we missed out on 'The Brick Man' a proposed 180 foot man made of bricks, designed by Antony Gormley of The Angel of the North fame, obviously someone with a bit more flair or vision is in charge these days as planning permission was denied for this (boo! hiss!).


What does anyone else think?

24.3.05 09:48


Three holes

One week on from my laparoscopic appendectomy and all is well(-ish) apart from a khaki coloured discharge from the biggest of the three holes, I am back at the doctors every two days for them to monitor the condition (apparently nothing to worry about) and supply me with more dressings for the next two days.


The little blighter was fused onto my intestine so the operation took twice as long as they were expecting, still it's out now.


10.3.05 08:37


20.1.05 12:46


Appendectomy appointment

Went to the hospital at the end of last week and they are to operate early April (date to be confirmed) they fit it in nicely with my other stuff: MRI in February, Endocrinologist on March, baby due in June.


Hopefully all will go well and the little tyke isn't early :-)


 


NB. Anyone coming here on the recommendation of aaronette should scroll down to [God Woke]

10.1.05 13:58


God Woke

I just had to get this onto the internet as it doesn't seem to be available anywhere else I thought I'd type it up myself.


GOD WOKE by Stan Lee


God woke
He stretched and yawned and looked around
Haunted by a thought unfound
A vagrant thought that would not die
He rose and scanned the endless sky
He probed the is, he traced the was
He sought the yet to be
And then he found the planet Earth, the half remembered planet Earth
Steeped in pain and tragedy
And all at once he knew
He saw the world that he had wrought to suit his master plan
And then he saw the changes brought by the heedless hand of man
Man, so frail, so small
Yet lord of all
Striving, thriving
Hustling, bustling
Sowing, growing, ever going
Ever learning, never knowing
Less than righteous, less than just
And in the end condemned to dust
He heard the man-sounds everywhere
The shots, the clangs, the roars, the bangs
The clatter, clammer, guns and hammer
And then he found to his despair
The haunting hollow sound of prayer
A billion bodies ever bending
A billion voices never ending
"Give me…", "Get me..."
"Grant me…", "Let me…"
"Love me", "Free me"
"Hear me", "See me"
While he pondered, watched and waited
Endlessly they supplicated
Chanting, ranting
Moaning, groaning
Sighing, crying
Cheating, lying
But towards what goal? What grand direction?
This pious tide of genuflection
To please their lord, to please their god
He raised his head and laughed, laughed hard
At man, the enigma, calling for aid
Ever demanding, ever afraid
Man, the enigma, bewailing his fate
Yet plagued by inaction till ever too late
Paradoxical man, so fearful of death
Yet squandering life and lavishing breath
Wasting his hours, diluting his days
Accomplishing nothing while he prays and he prays
Hypocritical man, pompous and preening
Mouthing his rote
Just from the throat
Words without feeling
Sound without meaning
Such arrogance, such grand conceit
To think one's self somehow elite
To demand each prayer be heard with care
While painfully, vainfully all unaware
One's omnipotent, infinite, absolute lord
Is bored
God frowned
How dare they believe that The Way and The Light
Can be constantly badgered from morning till night?
By what senseless standard? By what senseless rule?
Do they treat their creator as if he's their tool
While proclaiming his glory, do they think him a fool?
Who else but a fool with a cosmos to savour
Would be bound just to Earth granting boon, granting favour
Who else but a fool with a cosmos unfolding
Would linger with man ever praising and scolding
Who else but a fool with a cosmos to stray in
Would conceive him an ant-hill and like a prisoner stay in
Who else but a fool would create mortal men
And then be expected to tend them, mend them,
Cry for them, die for them over and over and over again
God sighed
I gave them minds as I recall, it was so long ago
I gave them minds that they might use to choose, to think, to know
For the hapless weak, must needs be wise, if they would prove their worth
And then I gave them paradise, the fertile verdant Earth
At first I found the plan was sound and somewhat entertaining
But once begun, the deed now done, my interest started waning
The seed thus sown
The twig now grown
I left them there
Alone
Alone, among the planets and the stars
And the endless fathomless all
Alone, bathed by light and clothed by dark
Midst the vague and the vast and the small
Alone
Alone as I have ever been, as I shall ever be
Why do they not accept it? How else can they be free?
Why do they not accept it? Why do they search for me?
Why?
When their own little lives are so barren and brief
When all of their pleasures are tarnished by grief
In the space of a heartbeat their present is past
They cling to each moment, but no moment can last
When the end comes so quickly and they soon are forgot
Why do they search for that which is not?
Like unto children lost in the night
They search for a God to guide them
Like unto children huddled in fright
They must have their God beside them
But what sort of children, from cradle to grave
Would grant him obiance and yet make him their slave?
They have conjured a heaven and there he must stay
Ever responsive, be it night, be it day
He must love and forgive them and comply when they pray
Ever attentive, never to stray
And like unto children in their childish zeal
They worship their dream thinking fantasy real
God pondered
He, The Be All, The End All, The Will and The Way
The Power, The Glory, The Night and The Day
The Word and The Law, The Fount and The Plan
Lord God Almighty, was baffled by man
He was puzzled by the paradox
By the irony there in
If only he could show them
But where would he begin?
How to make them understand, how to make them see
How to make them recognize their own insanity
They live for gain and they strive in vain
To circumvent their death
But all the gold and wealth untold
Won't buy an extra breath
They bestow acclaim and they shower fame
On those who rise to power
But those who care, who love and share
Are forgot within the hour
They're prone to fight, to use their might
For whatever flag they cherish
But those who cry "To arms" don't die
Their young are sent to perish
Yes, all unsung, they kill their young
Who fall and die and then they cry
But why?
A different house of worship? A different colour skin?
A piece of land that's coveted and the drums of war begin
Only death can triumph, there's no place left to hide
And still the madmen ply their trade claiming God is on their side
Of all who live, who crawl and creep
Who take and give, who wake and sleep
Who run, who stand, who dot the land from shore to shore
Man, only man, none but man, wages war
Only man, eternally killing
Only man, infernally willing
To concede himself grace
To bury his race
Only man, earnestly praying to his god as he's slaying and piously saying
As the battles increase
He does what he must for his motives are just
The mayhem, the carnage, the slaughter won't cease
But no need to worry, God's in his corner, he's killing for peace
Man
His greed, his hate, his crime, his war
The Lord, our God, could bear no more
He looked his last at man so small
So lately risen, so soon to fall
He looked his last and had to know
Whose fault this anguish, this mortal woe?
Had man failed maker? Or maker, man?
Who was the planner? And whose the plan?
He looked his last then turned aside
He knew the answer, that's why God cried

5.1.05 14:47


2005

MMV as we are meant to believe our Roman friends would have it (or at least the BBC).


Five past eight pm.


11111010101


12.19.11.16.9 in the Mayan Long Count calendar.


Two thousand and five in old money. This may not translate very well if anyone none English reads it. Why is the "... in old money" phrase used so often for totally unconnected facts and figures? Just wait till the Euro comes in, will we have to start saying "... in even older money" or "... in the money we'd prefer in our non-dictatory state but somehow ended up with, did I miss the referendum?"


What am I going on about? Must be the alcohol still in the bloodstream since New Year.

4.1.05 17:15


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