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My Sister's World

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She sleeps in the bright day The blinds yield at the edges to intense light Light that reflects on the tiled floor once inside The rumble on the junction and hiss of air con Zoned out white noise Outside the blinding sun blasts the concrete edifices Hot sand drifts between the blocks The distance disappears into a dancing blurriness The harsh sky seems to tolerate no cloud or bird Large white cars and lorries speed along scorching tarmac The only pedestrians, thin and small ragged men Scampering undignified across lanes of fast traffic Padding their way through the dusty vastness Ignored by the arrogant towers above Elusive but stark figures can occasionally be seen Emerging briefly from buildings or cars Distant figures swathed in billowing white or black garb A gender based binary The light softens and turns amber Long dark shadows are thrown by tall buildings Lights flick on and flicker in the distance Its darker inside now My sister stirs A toilet flushes Barefoot footsteps The fri

Cannibalistic Dream II -Simmit Meat??

I have had another cannibalistic dream. Its getting to be a bit of a recurring theme with me. I only remember parts of it. But I do remember being with these guys wearing camouflage and big guns and peering into a white tiled swimming pool where they were keeping stacks of gold bars in the pink water but also lots of naked bodies of all shapes and sizes, ages and sexes, some of them beheaded. ‘The cold water keeps them fresh.’ I am told as they throw in the body of a guy just beheaded. His limbs are still thrashing about as he lands in the water and he sends other bodies including babies spinning around and floating away. ‘The price of simmit meat has got very high now. Its worth more than its weight in gold. Tomorrow we will pack this load and ship it to Japan.’ Then I woke up.

Reality Check Iran

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I have read a very good article by Abbas Barzegar in the Guardian . I don’t usualy agree with him and he is often proved wrong but here I agree with him. Its a very depressing read. He basically says the chance of any kind of popular resistance forcing the regime's hand is very remote. The worst elements of the regime have the firm backing of the Sepah and the Sepah have gained such a position of strength that they are unassailable now with defections or desertions extremely unlikely and a huge military strength that has barely even been tested or even shown at all against these protests. According to him the most that will happen will be a nasty and bloody but contained civil conflict. People who say the regime will start to crumble under the weight of these protests underestimate its invulnerability and the huge amount of apathy, confusion and fear that predominates among the vast majority of the public. The 12th June elections marked a disastrous turning point for Iran. It mark

A Day in the Life of a Cathouse Mog

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10:30am Sunday Gary slowly comes to, half dressed and shivering on the edge of a filthy couch also occupied by a fat naked guy who’s lying face down with his head buried in cushions. He picks and eats the sleep from the corners of his eyes as he tries to remember who's flat it is and where it is. It does seem vaguely familiar with its smeared grubby pastel pink walls and blue ceiling. Its a high rise housing authority building, which is apparent from the low ceiling and flimsy cheap door, also painted pink, with holes knocked through. He peels his sticky arse off the sticky couch, pulls his dirty, red and black plaid trousers up his scrawny legs and picks his way through the strewn clothes, discarded takeaways and cans to the kitchen. He finds a packet of honey-nut flakes but there is only a putrid dribble of milk there. He eats the cereal dry, takes a shit in the toilet and leaves the flat. He doesn’t try to figure out who he has just spent the night with and by the feel of his a

Cannibalistic Dream

One vivid dream that I recall may have been inspired by working in a hotel restarant where food waste was exessive. The dream was in the setting of an exclusive hunting lodge. The lodge had its own small yard for rearing poultry for the consumption of the clientelle. The chef of the exclusive country establishment introduced a new surprise special to the menu. This became a very popular dish drawing an exclusive clientele to its restarant by personal reccomendations from the surrounding and wider area. When I asked what exactly the dish was I was informed by the proud chef that it was a 'Long Suckling Pork Spitroast with Sautéed Spring Greens and New Potatoes'. Certainly a big fanfare was made of serving it with large and very expensive silver serving dishes complete with huge dome covers. I came to realise what 'Long Suckling Pork' was when a local business event night was cancelled due to an untimely bereavement. Left out among boxes with the rest of the refuse waste

Carrion Coercion

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I used to live in the north outskirts of Belfast a few years back when I was at uni. I lived with three other fellas in this house near the university campus. They were all crazy lads from County Armagh in the restless border area and one of them, Brenny, was obsessed with animal traps. These are banned in the UK and Ireland and his dad made them for placing around the fields to catch any vermin or british soldiers. He brought some of these traps up to our student house and set them in the bit of waste ground behind our backyard where we soon caught six cats and a little dog. Anyway, one day while I was cutting through this nice neighbourhood that’s between the uni campus and our house, I heard American accents and saw this Yank family were moving into this house. They even had this big black american ‘Jeep’ thing with this bible basher fish sign on it. I says to me house mates when I got in about the yank happyclapper types moving into one of the nice houses and Brenny says ‘That’s fu