Tag: writing

  • Chapel perilous review

    Chapel perilous review

    Chapel Perilous: The Life and Thought Crimes of Robert Anton Wilson

    By Gabriel Kennedy a.k.a Prop Anon.

    Meticulous research, in depth interviews and his own blood sweat and tears make this book burst with primary sourced materials. Prop met and interviewed Wilson, and studied under his wings at the Maybe Logic Academy 2004-2007. Prop has read and processed everything Wilson published, and done a great service to humanity in discovering and compiling many unpublished materials and eclipsed details.

    This human story of integrity and the honest pursuit of the facts, no matter where they lead him is brave and honorable. Remaining forgiving and compassionate, RAW fans already feel this intuitively, now we have words and evidence to bolster those big feels. This book helps encapsulate and buffer that sense that now’s the time, the time to activate and put into practice what RAW communicated. Find and develope your own style. Nurture your own voice. Find the others. All that jazz.

    Both a clear introduction to his work, and a wellspring of fat facts for the RAW heads, this book can change your life, if you want it? 

    The work has helped cement my suspicion that RAW and his works present a road map, or a pathway or network of pathways, for all around the world humanity to thrive, relatively peacefully. A universal, fair and equal and sane vision for planetwide cooperation, physical and mental health and sufficient tolerance, that which is expressed by Charlie Chaplin (Perilous) in his famous speech from The Great Dictator (1940)

    Four quotations from the book, for a lil’ flava’

    “you are hereby invited to join the most powerful, unscrupulous, dangerous, and mind-blowing non-existent secret society in the world, the Bavarian Illuminati (a front for the even more powerful and non-existent, POEE.) –CP, pg. 86.

    Wilson was in D.C. that day with all the other hippies, Yippies, and freaks; walking past a chanting Ed Sanders who was standing on the back of a flatbed truck shouting, “Out demon, out!” towards the Pentagon.–CP, pg. 80.

    In a May Day letter, he told Leary, “I am developing a system of consciousness-expansion based on Lilly, yourself, Masters–Houston, Crowley, Gurdjieff, traditional Wiccadom…In my vain moments I think I have something quicker and easier than either traditional magick or modern psychology.”–CP, pg. 115.

    Cosmic Trigger Vol. 1 can now be named as the first popular non-fiction book to present the experiments that eventually earned John Clauser and Alain Aspect the 2022 Nobel Prize in Physics.118 It was also the first popular book, according to Alan Moore, the British comic book genius and magician, to properly contextualize Thelema in a language that was accessible and fun. As if that wasn’t enough, Wilson’s book was also the first to present his and Leary’s 8-Circuit model of intelligence, and, according to Richard Metzger, the first to popularize the McKenna brothers Terrence and Dennis’s Timewave Zero Theory after their own The Invisible Landscape (1974).–CP, pg. 131.

    I could go on quoting what I consider the evidence for both Wilson’s genius and the importance of this new biography in it’s carefully paced introduction to the facts.

    Self evidently, as the saying goes, if it does not make you laugh its probably not true, or, gods can be recognized by their cheerfulness. Through all the struggle, rejection and physical discomfort, Wilson kept his integrity and generally maintained his hilaritas, his cheerfulness, optimism and kindness (expressed by experiential and experimental understanding) toward all sentient beings. 

    As a super fan of Wilson and his works, I’m naturally biased in my urgent recommendation to read this book, and support the author for his heroic biography. A labour of love. I have followed the long road, and the authors own struggle to get this book completed and published. Writing a book such as this, who’s subject is widly regarded as one of the brightest minds of a generation, requires a laser like focus, and decades deep full immersion in the subjects work. As noted, Wilson gets the biographer he deserves in Prop Anon. Walking the walk and talking the talk, and writing the writ. Get it in your soul.

     

    Turn all that what might have been, what could have and should have been done, into action, into process. Do it. Make it knew. Walk tall.

    10/10

    https://a.co/d/7R4XByF (Amazon Link) PRE-ORDER.

    https://chapelperilous.us

  • Save our rivers

    Save our rivers

    My first dive into UK politics (besides protesting the closure of some local swimming pools) was on my return to Stourbridge, after 5 years living in America. I was drawn to the river Stour, which the town lends its name. On my first trips down the Stour in October 2005 I noticed some nasty looking rusty-coloured liquid coming out of a small but significant pipe, plus various foam formations where the river picked up pace. This is all besides the bicycles, car tires, and shopping trolleys, littering the river. Perhaps I was more sensitive to this, as I’d just been swimming in the feather river, Lake Tahoe, Pyramid lake, and dozens of other waters while in America. All crystal clear, inviting and beautiful.

    The river stour is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, it just depends on the distance you are from it when making such an observation. You really have to get in there to know what’s going on. Analyze the water, run tests and perhaps try a small glass, see what happens. I’m kidding, do not drink a glass of Stour water, it’s mucky and you’ll be on the bog for a wik.

    So here I was, back in town, after a remarkable American adventure. And I’m full of the spirit of protest and confidence, what can I do? I didn’t have a job, had just rented a room, and was at a loose end. I decided to begin a campaign to clean up the river Stour. I took a crappy video camera and got some footage of the river, together with some shots of Stourbridge, and edited it together with a tune I’d made using Reason software. (see blurred video below)

    I made several phone calls to Severn Trent Water Authority, the Environment Agency and the local rivers and canals organizations, trying to find out who I need to talk to about the probable pollutants running into it, and the litter strewn through the relatively small section of river leading from Lye to Stourbridge (approx 2-3 miles of river).

    Remember that in 2005 it was still a Blair Labour government, whom I was generally speaking, furious and angry at, for dragging us into the so called “War On Terror” with George Bush Jnr. However, in a moment of clarity, I decided to reach out to the local MP for Stourbridge, at that time, Linda Walthrow. I arranged a meeting and turned up at the church in Wollaston to put myself out there. I was unemployed at the time, claiming housing benefits and living rather frugally to say the least.       

    I asked the MP to supply me with some equipment, waders and a hook, so I could become the official custodian of the river…if…I was to clean it up. I also turned her onto a white paper by a media theorist, writer, Douglas Rushkoff, the paper was titled Open Source Democracy. 


    I can’t help but wonder how different things would be if she would have read and understood and shared this document with all of her Labour party, at that point. The coming Digital Revolution, seemed to me to have been highly weaponized by the Conservatives and the right, taking the left off guard and leading to the 14 years of monstrosities and abominations in the UK. Partly, made possible by the digital media landscape and print media landscape domination. Russian interference? I digress.

    I never got my waders of a hook, or a response by email. So I went ahead and started some projects anyway, some of which are documented in film and photographs. This project, started from the river Stour, has expanded and stayed with me on my subsequent travels to Europe. I don’t consider myself an environmentalist or even an activist, for me this was research into poetry and art. Where I pitch my tent. As much as I see the benefits and I admire professional card carry environmentalists, I did not wish to join any political party or movement. I wanted people to see me doing this for another reason, my own selfish reasons.



    My campaign was a success, in as far as I got a print media story, and photograph in the local Newspaper, where I was misquoted but pretty fairly represented as saying words to the effect that, if the government isn’t going to do it, then I’ll do it, look. Trying to draw attention to the issue. Look at the state of the river the town is named after, littered literally with shopping trolleys. What better metaphor for our consumer technology boom of the mid to late noughties? Who cares about the river, fill that trolly up!

    Jump forward nearly 20 years, and Britain’s rivers, waterways, lakes, seas and canals have been repeatedly, perhaps purposefully, polluted with waste sewage water. Meanwhile the major UK Water companies have been enjoying a financial bonanza, profiting from mismanagement, deregulation and the aroma of unaccountability. But no longer. This is coming to a dam. And we have a new chance to re-green and re-clean our waterways, with a different UK government. Once again, we pick up from where we left off, be the change. Turn the tide.


    Feargal Sharkey has become the face and voice of the campaigns to save UK rivers, and lakes, and the sea, and hold those responsible for their decline, to account. I wish him every success, together with George Monbiot and everybody else pushing the good vibes.


    https://www.cpre.org.uk/stories/feargal-sharkeys-mission-to-protect-englands-rivers-and-streams/

    Steve Fly and John Sinclair at Red Light Radio.
  • scratch lawnmower

    scratch lawnmower


    More sonic experiments on a phonetic scratch tip, inspired by konnakol and beatbox and scratching. Catch up, check out the origins story of this technology: HERE “Deep Scratch Remix”

    deep da BEEp BEEP deep pa' deep scratch (shh, sh)
    
    deep dip it ta, da BEEp BEEP deep pa' deep scratch (shh, sh)

    deep da BEEp BEEP deep pa’ deep scratch (shh, sh) deep dip it ta, da BEEp BEEP deep pa’ deep scratch (shh, sh)

    deep da BEEp BEEP deep pa’ deep scratch (shh, sh) deep dip it ta, da BEEp BEEP deep pa’ deep scratch (shh, sh)

    Scrrrraaaattttcccchhhhhh, drop it

    [verse] Mouth scratchin, sucking beats down the hatchin’ Bwoy-yip, oi-ip, wuha haahe wuha haha phipha fipha haha, apa apa, oh arrrr. Oh, R I’m like a human lawnmower

    [verse] Buzz buzz BUzz, b, Buzz BUZZ, b, Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzz buzz, BUZZ, b, Buzz. Buzz buzz BUzz, b, Buzz BUZZ, b, Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzz buzz, BUZZ, b, Buzz.

    Buzz buzz BUzz, b, Buzz BUZZ, b, Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzz buzz, BUZZ, b, Buzz.

    vb hmm shk hmm vb hmm shk vb hmm shk hmm vb hmm shk vb hmm shk hmm vb hmm shk shwax, wax, wax on rotation, making up beats to rock rock the nation [end]

  • John Sinclair: the collected poems

    John Sinclair: the collected poems

    https://www.thebookbeat.com/bookshop/catalog/john-sinclair-the-collected-poems-1964-2024/#prettyPhoto

    John Sinclair: The Collected Poems 1964-2024

                –this life

    of the mind & spirit
    rooted in humanism
    & love of art, & manifested
    in creative production

    & social engagement, like trane said
    “to be a force for good”
    & make an impact
    on the world at large

    “I’m very happy with this book and very grateful to have all my poems collected in one place like this.”
    –John Sinclair

    “Thank you for your poetry, your standing up for the blues and jazz for decades when few did, and for the way you share your talents and good will wherever you go.”
    –David Amram, Musician, Composer and Author

    “Many of these extraordinary poems trace an important method of “transmission of mind,” a form of Investigative Poetry. These poems are a big work that places Sinclair on the path of Charles Olson. This is an extraordinary work.”
    –Edward Sanders, Poet, Activist and founder of the Fugs

    John Sinclair’s Collected Poems 1964-2024 arrived within a week of his passing, and was edited and proofed with an introduction written by Sinclair in late January of 2024. The book was designed by Sinclair’s right-hand commrade at Radio Free Amsterdam Steve “The Fly” Pratt and published by Ridgeway press in a limited first edition of 150 hand-numbered copies with a forward written by M.L. Liebler. Photographs from the covers of each book and recording begin selections taken from each book. Only Fattening Frogs for Snakes, The Book of Monk, and Songs Of Praise for John Coltrane are not entirely included. The book runs 557 pages, with many poems collected here for the first time.

    “I was first attracted to becoming a poet when I read On the Road,” wrote John Sinclair in his introduction, “the idea became more apparent when I read Howl by Allen Ginsberg and Pictures of the Gone World by Lawrence Ferlinghetti after I had ascended into college.”

    Presented are Sinclair’s scarce first books printed in the early sixties by the Artists Workshop press; This is Our Music, Meditations and Fire Music. Selections from Fattening Frogs for Snakes and thelonious a book of monk and several of his recording projects; The White Buffalo Prayer, Detroit Life, Viper Madness. The last section “Mobile Homeland” has over three dozen uncollected poems written between 1964-2024. Many of the books have special introductions and notes on the text which Sinclair completed for this edition over the past several years.


    The Collected Poems includes a concise six page biography, bibliography of major publications, and a discography of the poet’s recordings, a culmination of 60 years of art and life in one collection. Collected Poems 1964-2004 was produced in a first limited edition of 150 hand numbered copies in paperbound wraps, with a signed forward by M. L. Liebler, 557 pages, issued by Ridgeway press. Profits for the book help support the Detroit Writers Guild.

  • Prat GPT Substack

    Prat GPT Substack

    Started a Substack account, with a slight technology focus in mind. Take a peek if you like.

    https://pratgpt.substack.com

  • DSR 1 – DISCLAIMER

    DSR 1 – DISCLAIMER

    I Can Break It Down

    The strawberry clouds were setting behind the foreskin mountains, casting a red glow on the glass concrete and plastic city below. Wild poet and programmer, Jake, sat at his desk, surrounded by books and computer screens. He was in the midst of writing his latest work of historical fiction, but something was bothering him. He had recently heard of these large language models like ChatGPT, and he was tempted to use them to help him with his writing. But he was unsure. Even the sordid mainstream news was ablaze with speculation. Was it cheating to use AI to write his book? Would it take away the authenticity of his voice as a writer? Jake sighed, staring out the window at the city as the sun disappeared behind the horizon like a lost Vermeer painting. He was at a crossroads, and he needed to make a decision, if he were to sell his soul in what condition would he say it was in, how to evaluate such an absurdity, he hammered on his imaginary typewriter.

    Jake’s mind was racing like a cyclist on steroids, he sat there, lost in thought, wheels and rusty bronze cogs whirring. He had always prided himself on being a self-made writer, crafting every word with care and precision. But now, with the advent of generative AI, things have changed utterly. He intuited that the large language models could help him streamline his writing process, and make his work more accurate and polished, but keeping in mind the old audio engineers rule, you can’t polish a turd! But, was that what he wanted? Did he want to surrender some of his creative control to the machines? Jake rubbed his eyes, feeling the weight of the decision on his shoulders, he recalled all the science fiction dystopia in his tiny mind. He was a wild poet at heart, a maverick in the head, known on the street for his unconventional style and unpredictable word zingers. Would using a language model change that? He wasn’t sure. But one thing was for certain: he needed to decide damned soon. The clock was ticking, the sun was setting and his deadline for his latest historical fiction novel was rapidly approaching like a hacked Tesla.

    Jake sat as a Zen Monk, weighing the pros and cons of using AI in his writing process, mixing between his perceived left and right brain hemispheres. On one flipper, he knew that the large language models could greatly enhance his work by providing accurate historical information and improving his writing style, grammar and structure. Like a robotic machine editor and secretary. On the other flipper, he feared that it would take away the unique voice that had made him the writer he was. With a name to come. He was afraid that his work would become formulaic, lacking the raw emotion and unpredictability that set him apart from other writers like a six foot transgender tardigrade. 

    As he pondered this dilemma, Jake’s mind wandered further to some of the other writers he knew and admired, most of them skint, undiscovered or on the spliff and booze trip. Some had already adopted weak AI into their work, plugins, and their writing was fast and efficient. But was it any good, did it have real balls, realism, was it gritty, daring and poetic? Or, was it another cookie-cutter piece, a puzzle lacking the human touch that made good writing good writing? Jake’s inner debate continued like a Punch and Judy show as the night wore on. He knew he needed to make a decision soon, but he wasn’t sure which way to jump. The upsides and downsides of using AI in his work were evenly matched, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to choose a path, like an indecisive rat in a maze.  

    Jake took a deep breath and opened up his mouth, he beatboxed for 10 minutes straight, then he opened his laptop computer. He had made his decision. Fuck it, He was going to use it, but only to help him write the introduction to his latest novel, well, that’s what he told himself. He wasn’t sure what the outcome would be, but he was curious like a kitten to see what the AI could do. As he began typing a prompt, he felt a rush of excitement and fear. This was it. He was taking the leap. He was going to let ChatGPT help him craft the opening to a story about a wild poet programmer who was unsure about using large language models in his latest work of historical fiction. You know, that old chestnut.

    Glimmers of brass and chrome twinkle amidst a sea of wires and buttons in his head. Rust-stained machines hum and whirr, pumping bass sounds. A kaleidoscope of instruments covers every surface – drums gleam like obsidian, synths flash rainbow lights, mics shine like jewels. Large and small turntables spin like clockwork gears, interconnected, surrounded by dials, sliders and switches. Words and sentences are born of rotating discs, wheels turn, but are we here to stop the wheels?  

    Creative writing is a form of artistic expression that involves the use of language and imagination to create original written works, no? It seems like a subjective and personal process that varies widely from one individual to another. Generative artificial intelligence, on the other hand, is a type of technology that uses machine learning algorithms to generate original content based on a given set of input data or prompts. While generative AI can be a useful tool for generating ideas or providing inspiration, it is critically important to understand that the content it produces is not the same as that created through the artistic process of creative writing, it is also important to remember that the word is not the thing, but a symbolic approximate representation of the thing. The menu is not the meal, the picture is not the painting.  

    Furthermore, the use of generative AI does not replace the need for human creativity and judgment, far from it. The reverse seems true to this author. The ultimate responsibility for the quality and appropriateness of any written work remains with the person or entity creating it. It’s up to you to make the difference, the difference that makes a difference. It seems equally important to be aware of the limitations and potential biases of generative AI, and to use it with caution and critical thinking. Be aware of the programming. Creative writing and generative AI should not be viewed as interchangeable or equivalent approaches to content creation, no sir. That said, a lot of human creative writing can be dull, biased and factually incorrect. A hell of a lot, just take a look if you can bear it.   

    To future generations who may discover this work: We the creators, hope that these letters and symbols and images and sounds will provide you with a greater understanding of the past and the individuals who shaped it. However, it is important to note that these letters are a fictionalized representation of history, and should not be taken as fact. We deeply encourage you to seek out primary sources and other reliable accounts of history in order to gain a more accurate and well-rounded understanding of the past. Thank you for engaging with these letters, and we hope that they will inspire you to learn more about the fascinating individuals and events of the past.

    A wall of vintage compressors and bass bins rattle the floor, while samplers and synths shimmer like stars. African djembes and Indian tablas stand guard beside Asian gongs, while steam hisses from valve compressors. The air is thick with the sound of creation.

    TEXT MESSAGE: We need a new disclaimer, old one is out of date, new GPT iterations and LLMs will disrupt a lot. Speak soon.


    KINDLE EDITION

  • Follow The River Flow

    working class poor

    billions doe want war

    a few damn rich   

    assassination

    not war on the innocent

    oligarch hunting

    crisis in the mind

    little man fuhrer psycho

    putin charge to war 

    psychological

    blow skull clean off body

    remove warhead  

    crimea look

    war crime in the ukraine

    humanity scream   

    hit and missiles

    hospital school home

    destroy product

    weapons business

    boom sick profiteering

    from god misery     

    sunshine turns gaze

    away from the destruction

    shameless putin rain

    isness is illness

    solipsists get sloppy

    where to quick-stand

    white russian war

    with red and blue on flag

    pale racist tsar 

    drill putin head

    incept fake love memory

    big baby eat

    vladimir bond

    the man with golden visa

    uk love villains      

    chemical romance 

    how much investment

    novichok johnson

    grim kreminals 

    kgb cia q

    cold war freeze

    bury all the bombs

    swords into plowshares 

    new climate army

    follow the river

    ancient waterway out

    flowing to get her

    armed to the teeth

    full up to the rafters

    build-up tension go

    whataboutism

    patriotic conceit

    same blood bath

    fight climate death

    desoverignize nations

    to grow her back

    snow will melt

    we will meet for river drinks

    swimming tears

    shelling ocean floor

    no limit how low can go

    they shell for oil

    hi eurasia

    europe is not us

    don’t involve me

    helpless poeting

    belief in magic power

    psychic war-flare

    I would run away

    spineless self interested

    am i guilty too 

  • About 2020: Squintin Quarantino

    I intended to collect 2020 Haiku poems into a book and publish it quarterly, after the world tilted toward a new trajectory due to novel coronavirus, as you will see, my writing shatters slowly returning to freestyle rhyme and longer pieces, trying to make meaning of the new world of 2020 and what lies beyond the horizons.

    On reflection my first explicit mention of the virus is in the following lines from February 2nd: coronavirus / spreading like racism flu / check your prejudice / solidarity / with all east asian people / li sao for sorrow.” These scrawls you track my attention moving with the spread of the virus and its potential impact and its dangers, within creative works and social media posts curated for your quarantainment, culled from blog poems, tweets and rants fresh.

    For the record, my best guess is a Pangolin and a Bat spawned a new chimera near a Chinese a wet market, and since that moment power hungry greed heads have been trying to figure out how to twist the pandemic to forward their goals. Please consider my chronological diary of writings on Covid-19 as a testament to one individual trying to make sense of the available data. Stay safe, and keep supporting each other. Be nice. Thanks.
    www.patreon.com/stevefly

  • SECOND WAVE COMING – SQUINTIN QUARANTINO

    At central station, with a note for the nation
    You’re testin’ my patience, we doe’ need no more patients
    It’s just simple I ask, not a difficult task
    Just wash your grubby hands and then put on a mask
    If you…think it a hoax, then you endanger our folks
    Political purists want cash from the tourists
    Don’t say the word, that rhymes bird community
    I might spill some verbs and break word immunity
    You choose…wealth over health, we choose Math over death
    Exorcising rights, with my last dying breath
    I walk with a waddle, like the drunken Penguino
    Some call me fly…others Squintin Quarantino.

    She…did all the summin’… I did the drummin’
    There’s somethin’ brewing, it ain’t the fluin’
    Tourists are coming and the spit balls are going
    My heartbeat is rising, my tongue keeps surprising
    My…songs are running and bong rips are rolling
    Shoppers in droves…so dodge em’ keep strolling
    A lot of dumb tourists, they act like bambino
    I’ll wear a facemask, yes I’m Squintin Quarantino

    I’m… weaving through people, they twisting my nipple
    No masks make me dribble, at the narcissist rabble
    Playing Covid at scrabble, with death you do dabble
    I’m stuck in the middle saying, hey kid skedaddle
    Up the…Gracht with no paddle riding bareback no saddle
    I look at the muddle and just cuddle my bottle
    and we get to the bottom, of the R rate “We got em’
    with all my four hooves, we move over to trott on’
    I’m like Wolfgang Pauli, who dis…covered Neutrino
    Super fly Quark barkin’ Squintin Quarantino

    Liars of Wealth, versus liars of Health
    Put a cap on the Sandwich, put a cap on your mouth
    Put a cap in your ass, in your head in your ear
    You hijack our weed,  make Trillions off beer
    All the financiers can now work from home
    Mum-wage workers, stuck in front Covid zone
    Laws from the Hague, confuse like Cummings they vague
    Can’t run in clogs, from the new airborne plague
    I swim in waves until the end of the fino’
    I spit behind a mask because I’m Squintin Quarantino

    It’s…late in July, second coming from the sky
    In yer mouth, up yer nose in yer’ ear through your eye
    Tiny bacteria, shut down your cafeteria
    You airborne yesterday, chill yer’ hysteria
    It’s…not a big ask, just wear a damn mask
    If I don’t ask it, then your grans in a casket
    Hot drink, you flask it
    Asymptomatic, you mask it.
    Put the lotion, in the basket and your mouth, behind a tight-knit
    Ministers like dinosaurs, I like to call em’ Deano’
    With a T-Rex flexin; this is Squintin Quarantino 

    One small mistake or one big blunder
    You and the city, might go six feet under
    Don’t…sleep and lumber, get up track the number
    Into October November December
    Your…just out of reach, on a towel on a beach
    You’ll hear me at the top of my lungs as I screech
    ….INN COMING here comes the second wave
    I’m…calling to offices households and caves
    Holding up a flag: Wear A Mask Life It Saves
    A Covid Tsunami, will wipe out your army
    A second wave attack will drown folk that’s barmy
    Playin’…Russian roulette with bad spit and sweat
    Bats teach us a lesson but you’re quick to forget
    If we all wear a mask then, the quicker it’s over
    No reliance on horseshoe, charm or four leaf-clover
    I’m…hot like Mohommad eating a RAW Jalapeno
    Listen to my raps kid, I’m Squintin Quarantino

  • Johnson Hancock Cummings Gove

    Hancock: “We need a new slogan, er, something good”

    Johnson: “Er, er, well, I thought that, er…stop…er”

    Cummings: “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me, I like that one?

    Gove: “Oh Dominic, less of the bad language chap”

    Johnson: “Oh delightful Dom, er, or just um, do what we say in er, bod, yes bold letters, um”

    Hancock: “Gentleman, we don’t have much time, the press con’ starts in fifteen”

    Cummings: “Great, yeah, like it, jackpot”

    Johnson: “Um, hey Govey boy, after you’ve finished, er, after you’ve, er, finished, yes, finished the plate, um perhaps share your top, er, best one, quickly now…chap.

    Gove: “Thank you Boris, Thankyou. Yes, and thanks to everybody gathered here at this meeting today, I am honoured, blessed to be here at this critical moment for the Tory party, together at this moment of opportunity to increase our tight grip on the situation and a pretty good grip, er, on the people too and I’d like to thank my wife, my dealers and…”

    Hancock: Mike, you’re rambling. The best one, please”

    Johnson: “Er, come on chap, um, yes, what is the goodest one?

    Cummings: “I need more coffee”

    Johnson: “Brilliant, that’s it Dom, spaffing job, you gone done it, got it done, heh, again you rascal, meeting adjourned.”

    An intern from Government PR quickly knocked-up the new slogan and within ten minutes, printed it and stuck it to the front of the pulpit where Johnson was to address the country.

    “Nice, er, nice colours, they remind me of the colours on a bus, how wonderful, I once made an art bus…”

    Hancock: “Boris, get over here and tuck your shirt in, you ain’t Dom, try to look normal”

    Gove: “Here you are big dog, Boris, take this…helps you to stay alert”

    Cummings: “Hold it. Stay alert…um yes, yesssssss yesssssss vague, yesssssss, imprecise oh yesssss, divisive….um oh god yesssssss even better, confusion, yes yes yes”

    Dominic punches the sky, spills his latte and slaps Micky Gove on the back who in turn coughs out a chunk of cocaine (a.k.a Gove Dust) striking Jacob Rees Mogg on the chin and waking him from a 3 month slumber, underneath a wooden bench.

    Mogg: “Hmmmmm, wahhhhhh, hmmmmmm, yes, hmmmmmmm wahhhhh…um….”

    Johnson: “Just take it on the chin chap, heh”

    Cummings: “Moggy, you sound like a wah-wah pedde that’s running out of power”

    Mogg: “Ummmm where…..um wha…….mehhhhhh…..wahhhhh…..”

    Johnson: “Go back to sleep Moggy old boy, er, stay alert…yes yes…stay….alert.

    Johnson steps to the podium to address the country.

    “Er, um, well yes, er, I am absolutely yes, er, brilliant….and I really hope, I do hope, er, yes and alert like a…stay, er…

    “Like an Etonian sack of Satan’s spunk, Boris. Like a confused liar who’s had his head stuck inside an orange balloon….”

    Johnson: “Get him out of here…what the, um, er, what the devil…”

    Me (dragged by the hair and punched): “Fuck you and your whole Tory crew Boris. You don’t fool me, you pure….LYING….FANNY!”