The challenge for humanity in this century is to coordinate itself into a single organism. With the internet we now have the beginning of a central nervous system and are able to be conscious of the state of ourselves as a...
The philosophy of tolerance and of tolerating intolerance is of course an interesting paradoxical one, much more interesting than any philosophy of intolerance. The reason I can’t understand ideologies of intolerance, is that they seem to be mired in hopeless contingencies....
Another mind splinter seems to have gone in.. after half a bottle of wine.. i wake with a black hole of chlorodyne forgetfulness. Dreaming of hospital beds, cancer, this could be only ten years away. I am calm about it –...
Science is not normally considered to be in the same category of thought as religions. And in some ways, it is in a different category. It doesn’t have quite the same ossified structures of most other religions, and it doesn’t have...
Nones. No good can come of it. So here is my new poem book: “Bleeding Nose Poems”. Is that a bit weird? The acronym is BNP, unintentionally. You can buy it over on Lulu, but better still, send me a...
I’ve just agreed to milk one of the neighbour’s cows. Haven’t milked a cow since I was about 6, when I used to hang around with dad when he was on milking duty. Our lovely jersey cow Heidi was a good...
The singularity seems to be here. It just whooshed past, and we are in a new reality. OK? Of course, the first thing you’ll notice is that we’re all still alive. The world still seems to be here. It wasn’t the...
So here we are. This morning I woke up feeling optimistic for the first time in months. So I revisited this old draft post, and decided to make it live, even though things are moving on already. I live on twitter...
Doubt is the most potent of thoughts, the most humble. It is ok to look down the skeptical wormhole. You can always look away again later. Poetry is the stink in the compost of decaying thought. I would like to evolve...
A sudden plosm creates echoes. Later i exhume the body of an old pet, and notice that the chickens are all gone. So now is the time for wine and music… the blood on my fingers.. picking up the guitar the...
Taken some new portraits of me as a poetaster, and making images as part of general renovations to the ‘poem library’ and other parts of this site. Tortured or disgruntled? On the red chair in the blue room. With books. Do...
