Tuesday, 18 May 2010
Where to begin? Last night my companion and I watched a strange film. “The Informant” had somehow passed me by when on general release but we liked the cover on the DVD and had seen good Steven Soderbergh films in the past. The film seemed listless and unbelievable at first, lacking in dramatic tension. We enjoyed Matt Damon’s endless internal ramblings (my companion especially failing to spot that they were a little unusual). As the awkward unhomely atmosphere continued however, the plot, the truth and Mr Damon’s character began to unravel. Nothing seemed to be true. Lie was piled upon lie. As I have mentioned before I am also reading the purported diaries of Abraham Lincoln (vampire slayer) a happy nonsense of a book although a little research has revealed a mote of truth in the characterisation of confederate troops as unearthly creatures. A contemporary account describes them as follows:
“Then arose that do-or-die expression, that maniacal maelstrom of sound; that penetrating, rasping, shrieking, blood-curdling noise that could be heard for miles and whose volume reached the heavens-such an expression as never yet came from the throats of sane men, but from men whom the seething blast of an imaginary hell would not check while the sound lasted.” -Colonel Keller Anderson of Kentucky’s Orphan Brigade.
Paul Becker’s thinly veiled “False Testimonies”, the persona of the Gimp, my own ‘live’ rocket launches, the cat called pig, this internal monologue, my ‘real’ life, where lies the truth? I know not.
Sunday, 16 May 2010
The Gimp
Yesterday, made up in my sailor suit and wig, a sort of grey mist overcame me as I assumed the persona of The Gimp. Admittedly this was partly because I had decided not to wear my glasses. This removal of the visual dislocated me, I could not fully connect with the ‘real’. People’s reactions either did not register or were blurred to a point that they did not affect me. I became undead, a sort of phantom. It was all a little disturbing. As the Gimp I’m not sure all of what I did and I fervently hope I will not be brought to book for my actions. Weirdly I am also simultaneously nagged with fear that I failed to do my job well, that I was unbearably hammy.
Later, after these surreal shennanigans, several of us retired to a nearby field to play with fireworks My final Launch, a day after the Americans sent their final shuttle into space, went off with only partial success. So far either the broadcast has gone out and the rocket has failed or the rocket has launched and the broadcast failed. However this and the ridiculous scale of my rockets both seem to have become the leitmotif of the project. Both of my attempts on this last day flew but failed to broadcast.
Flies
Eight small flies have taken up residence in my bedroom. They doodle lazy triangles above my bed and then quite suddenly explode into frenzied dogfights which end as quickly as they start. They rest in pairs, two to a star on old Christmas decorations that still hang from the ceiling.
Flies and Spiders
Mr Pig (my companion’s cat) has begun a slow genocide. There are two less flies than a few minutes ago. The survivors seem unperturbed at the lessening in their numbers continuing to gambol while the stealthy executioner looks on.
Pig is a skillful killer of the tiny. At the studio she slays spiders laying their curled corpses out in a neat rows.
Three mice and a periwig
My dear companion has just recalled a time when The Pig caught a mouse and laid it neatly under her bedside table next to two toy mice. Each (apparently) faced the same direction and was evenly spaced.
I am just about ready to face the events of yesterday, my acting debut as “the Gimp”. But there are so many memories I feel the need to allow them to settle before committing them to writing. The photgraph below shows my hairpiece but not the full effect of my transformation.
Fly
On returning from breakfast, a birthday celebration at The Greyhound, I returned to my rooms to discover only one fly extant. Mistress Lock was also at breakfast. She informed us that she had many interesting photographs of “Gimp” and some video which I look forward to seeing soon. Post prandial exhaustion has put me in my bed again.
Friday, 14 May 2010
Launch 6
My companion is returned from Paris much scarred by her experience. She spent most of the day in bed refusing to be stirred. For my part I am even now still suffering with an intense headache which has not abated all day. Tomorrow we will travel to Wysing where I have been asked to play the role of “Gimp” a creation of artist Hayley Lock. Not acustomed to acting I am unsure how it will be received. If I am booed the trip will not be for ought as I also intend to fire a final rocket into the heavens it will carry a small camera broadcasting it’s rise and inevitable fall. Today’s test went well I was delighted not to have destroyed a £40 camera. Though I was a somewhat concerned when my companion mentioned she thought I had just fired a rocket into a nesting area of the rare little ringed plover. This aside, anyone watching would or should have seen the spiralling descent of Launch 6
