Thursday, May 20, 2021



If celebrity something or other Ned Belleck was never certain what he was famous for, he was completely in the dark about what he was infamous for. He just woke up one day to find everyone online condemning him for being a 'wungo'. 'The signs were always there,' tweeted tweets. 'I always knew that about that guy,' opined people who Ned never knew and who never knew Ned.

Ned didn't know what a wungo was. He was not an old man or particularly out of touch, but everything moves so fast these days. Ned Googled the word. The only definition he found was in the urban dictionary. This definition wasn't very helpful though as it defined the word 'wungo' with other words Ned never heard of. The definition read - Wungo: Noun. A total sumper. Penchant for skellegy hents. “Oh man, Suzy's such a wungo, I bet she barbutts her fing.”

Ned decided not to worry about being a wungo. It'll all be forgotten about soon enough and everyone will move on to something else, he thought. But he thought wrong. The accusation made it into mainstream gossip columns and was mentioned on afternoon TV. Most shocking of all was when the police arrived at Ned's door to charge him for wungoisation. Ned contacted his lawyer, but even Ned's lawyer refused take a call from a wungo.

Ned called friends to ask what a wungo is and the few who picked up the phone answered him sharply. 'You know damn well what a wungo is, you Godamn wungo!' they said before hanging up and blocking his number. Ned didn't get any more public engagements. His agent dropped him as did the charities he worked with and boards and committees he sat on. His life was ruined.

Ned left his large, beachside property and moved into a small flat. He changed his name and appearance and took a job in a garden centre. He just got on with the rest of his life and kept his head down. Other than his employer and the customers at the garden centre, he spoke to no one. He never recovered his trust in humanity.

Ned never found out what the word 'wungo' meant and he spent the rest of his life wondering what wungos could be. 'Whatever they are, wungos must be pretty odious,' thought Ned to himself.

Ned often found himself keeping an eye for wungos. He wondered if those around him were wungos and sometimes even suspected as much. He even found himself going online anonymously to accuse people of being wungos. I mean, maybe they were wungos. 'They sure seem like wungos,' said Ned to himself, 'whatever wungos are.'

Tuesday, May 4, 2021



Well, those masks now. I'll wear them if that's what they say to do, but I've a line in the sand. I'll not wear them in the shop. Oh no. For me, you see, the shop is a place of freedom. Freedom of choice. It's where we get to practise our true autonomy. Think about it. It's where all the products are. Loads of products. And not just one type of each product either, but a choice of different types of the same product. That's freedom, you see. Freedom of choice. And what other kind of freedom is there but the freedom of choice? And where do you get the most to choose from? That's right, the shop!

A wide variety of choice. An expanse of choice. A plain. A wide open plain, like the Serengeti. Oh Jaysus, I loved it. You should have seen me, back in the day. Maskless. Frolicking and gambolling in the aisles. Like some creature off a David Attenborough thing. Up and down. Around the corner. It was beautiful. I was free. You should've seen me. You should have fucking seen me, man. Untamed abandon. I'm welling up thinking about it. There we were. All of us, like a load of flamingos or zebras or something, making our way to the checkout. Stocking up. Teeming out into the car park.

But it just feels like a mockery now, with the masks. It's like a collar. I feel like a chained beast. I'll put up with wearing the mask outdoors or at home or in the bath or wherever, but not in the shop. No. Not the shop. It's symbolic really. Donning the mask in the shop is a kind of surrender. You can't let them have us where they want us, in the true locus of freedom, the shop. And they're putting shit in the vax too. A micro-nano-thermite-chip. It's to keep an eye on us. Like tracked animals. If I want to be tracked like some animal, I'll get a Smartphone. And I do have a Smartphone. I bought it in the shop and you know what? I wasn't wearing a mask at the time.

Oh, and I've just dowloaded a cool new app. The Smartphone roars like a howler monkey if anyone with the virus comes within a fifteen metre radius of me.

Thursday, March 18, 2021



Once upon a time, humanity ceased to be. Well, it didn’t really cease to be, but everyone thought it did because the news made a terrible mistake. Everyone in the world lay down around the place as if they were dead. They spread out their limbs at funny angles and shut their eyes.

Religious people waited to be taken to the afterlife, but no tunnel of light came for them. Atheists waited to be eaten by worms, but the worms showed no interest. Everyone just waited and waited and then they got hungry and they got cold and some had to take a piss.

After a while, a little boy jumped to his feet and said “let’s pretend we’re alive.” The little boy’s mammy told him to lay back down because he was dead, but the little boy said “I know I’m dead, I’m just playing that I’m alive.” Then a little girl stood up to play too.

Soon, all the children were on their feet and then most of the adults. It seemed that they had found a ‘get out’ clause in this death business. You could pretend to be alive. So, almost everyone went back to doing what they did before they thought they were dead.

However, some people remained on the ground as if dead and were very cross with those who had gotten up for not being dead properly. Some of those on the ground were tempted to join in the pretending to be alive game, but they dared not. It seemed naughty.

Eventually, the people who were pretending to be alive scooped up the people who thought they were dead and put them in caskets and put the caskets in the earth. The people who thought they were dead did not protest. They were happy enough under the soil. It seemed correct.

You see, even though the people who thought they were dead were about to be really dead, due to being buried alive, they felt they were coming out on top. The way they reasoned it, being dead is safer than being alive because being alive will get you killed one day. FIN!

Tuesday, January 5, 2021


One day, the bourgeoisie went to the cinema to see a savage indictment of the bourgeoisie made by a member of the bourgeoisie. The bourgeoisie became very angry at the bourgeoisie and some bourgeoisie formed an organisation that put bombs under the bourgeoisie's cars and so on. Members of the bourgeoisie ended up killing a lot of members of the bourgeoisie. Eventually, when the bourgeoisie got tired of blowing up the bourgeoisie, a member of the bourgeoisie made a film about the bourgeoisie blowing up the bourgeoisie and the bourgeoisie went to the cinema to see the film, which was a savage indictment of the bourgeoisie, and the bourgeoisie became very angry at the bourgeoisie and some bourgeoisie formed an organisation that put bombs under the bourgeoisie's cars and so on.

It was all very exciting. It was all very important. It was really revolutionary. 

Some of the bourgeoisie were even sent to prison by the bourgeoisie, but all of the bourgeoisie eventually became bourgeoisie media pundits and went on TV shows where the bourgeoisie spoke to the bourgeoisie about the bourgeoisie in front of an audience of bourgeoisie watching from home and a few lucky members of the bourgeoisie who'd won tickets to be in the live studio audience.

Monday, December 28, 2020



...@anarchofurrious is cool with @TankieTrustfund but not @PraxisAnaphylaxis and said it was OK to burn down mom n pop stores that don’t sell their book on Anarcho Liposuction and they do still read theory on their OnlyFans so I still think we can change the world guys and nudes are $40.

Sunday, January 8, 2017


I'm putting on a play about our current world. I won't be giving any of the actors scripts so they'll have to improvise any old shite that comes into their heads. I'm hoping for some monologues that make little sense, but sound powerful anyway - in a strange way.

I'll also cue light changes and sound effects and pull up and down the curtain at entirely random times so as to disorientate the cast and audience alike.

The whole show will finish with the theatre catching fire and everyone being directed to fake emergency exits that all lead to the toilet.

It'll be just like real life. It'll be very realistic.

Then of course there is the encore. Played by the final living actor, burnt a gaudy orange, coughing and sooty upon the remnants of the stage. The last scene of all, that ends this strange eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste*, sans everything.

*Oh, definitely tasteless.

Friday, December 30, 2016


People are saying that Edward Snowden is a Russian asset. This is wrong. Edward Snowden actually still works for American intelligence. I swear. And all the surveillance stuff Snowden said that the NSA can do, all the listening on your laptops and devices, all that stuff is a load of shite. The NSA can't do any of that. It just wants us to think it can so we don't act against the U.S.A.'s interests. The NSA doesn't really need to watch us. The NSA just needs us to think that it can watch us, so it got Snowden to tell us that this was the case, which it really isn't.

Snowden is now living in Russia and he's spying on the Russians. The Russians know that he's a spy though. So, when Snowden is around, the Russians talk a load of shite about their supposed deep surveillance of the U.S.A. Snowden then reports this shite talk back to the yanks and the yanks pretend to believe it, but they don't because they know that the Russians are on to Snowden because that was the intention of the yanks all along. The yanks want the Russians to waste all their time making up pretend espionage stuff to trick Snowden with. That way, reason the yanks, the Russians will have less time to come up with real espionage stuff.

When it comes to real espionage, there's actually no such thing. No one has the time. They're too busy cooking up the fake stuff. Strictly speaking, there are no such things as actual spies. Well, there are spies, but their job isn't to spy. Their job is to give the people they are meant to be spying on the impression that they're spying on them. Really though, there is no spying going on at all, but everyone thinks there is, so they don't make any plans. The plan is to make the enemy think you might know what the plan is, so they scrap their plans, should they have any, which they don't because they haven't the time.

Are you still with me? Has confusion got you in its grip? It's all about confusion at the end of the day. The intelligence agencies are mad for the confusion.

Did you know that back in a simpler time, during the Cold War, the Russians used to use props in their military parades? They'd have a huge big fake nuke, a thing that doesn't exist at all, a big fake warhead in a parade and they'd know that the yanks would see it and then go and waste all their time trying to research what it was and how to make one of their own. The yanks would waste a load of time and effort that could've been expended on developing real nukes. That was typical of the shite that went on in the world of geopolitical espionage. Of course, if such a thing was attempted today, the yanks would just give the Russians the impression that they had wasted all their time when, in fact, they would've known that the nuke was fake all along. And the extra twist on top of this would be that the Russians would know that the yanks know the nuke is fake, but the Russians would be happy enough because the yanks would still end up wasting a load of time and effort on giving the Russians the impression that they were wasting a load of time and effort.

Do you see my meaning? Is what I'm trying to impart clear to you at all?

Look, it's like this, spies know that reality is irrelevant. The world of spies is a post-reality world. It's just trolling really. Troll and counter-troll. If James Bond films were realistic, Bond would just be going around saying he bedded all those women and blew up all those secret bases, but the reality would be him sitting around in hotel lobbies trying to look suspicious but feeling kind of lonely and wondering what it's all for and if there is such a thing as anything at all and he'd frequently check his reflection in panes of glass to make sure that he's still there and, deep down, he'd be hoping that one day he won't be. Or maybe, like David Shayler, Bond would see his reflection and declare to himself 'I am the messiah and hold the secret of eternal life.'

It's hard for spies to keep their feet on the ground. That's why they're advised to keep weights in their footwear. This also makes them easier to sink, when they need to be disposed of. We'll all have weights in our shoes soon enough.