BRIGHTON NEWS

BRIGHTON NEWS

(UNDERSTANDING THE BRIGHT OWN IAN’s)

EST: Recently.

(Ed. Rich Seamfinder)

SOLE TRADERS TO MEET IN MOULSECOOMB

Superannuated shoemakers are to hold their AGM in Moulsecoomb Leisure Centre in April. Sounds like a load of old cobblers!

Anji Noracull.

WHAT’S IN A NAME?

Shops across Brighton calling themselves mini-markets could be breaking the law and risking closure, according to A. Pedant from Trading Standards in Patcham.

‘Many of these businesses are convenience stores,’ Mr Pedant explains, ‘that sell neither small motor cars nor short skirts. It’s misleading the public.’

But Sanjay Patel, who runs a mini-market in North Laine, said: ‘On a regular basis, there are giant boot sales held in the city. But giants can’t get footwear there!’

Ernest Seeker.

 

 

THE ROYAL PAVILION

The Pavilion rhymes with a civilian
But has served no such class of person well.
The ‘vision’ of the Prince Regent
(Who truly was monumentally self-indulgent)
The Royal Pavilion’s Indo-Islamic appearance, designed by John Nash
Makes it an inferior Taj Mahal.
Approximately 400, 000 people a year visit the RP
This, we’re told, is good for the city.
It's is an economic truism no doubt
But finding Brightonians and other Brighton denizens
Who’ve directly benefitted in any way from this statistic…
Well, let’s just say the jury’s out.

 

 

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Pavilion

IDLE: SATANIST?

FORMER PYTHON STAR IN SATANIST SMEAR!

Proverbially, 'the Devil finds work for idle hands.' But the expression has had astonishing repercussions for former Monty Python member, Eric Idle, (writes Anji Noracull, surreal affairs correspondent for Narolc's World).

Idle, 72, has found himself at the centre of a bizarre, occult controversy fuelled by the mysteriously circulating rumours accusing the comic star of being a devil-worshipper and in league with the Devil himself!

Perhaps most astonishingly, The Kent Puritan, an extreme Christian publication founded and edited by fundamentalist, Thelma Banishall, recently printed an expose with Idle as its prime focus!  Ms Banishall was unavailable for comment when Narolc's World approached her.

Eric Idle has also been hard to reach, But then again, he is a celebrity.

SU CHONG

When Su Chong’s lap sang it came as a big surprise,
Her man, Darin spoke no Chinese
Despite his ‘canto knees’—
His ‘Ezra Pound patellas’, as he calls them
Draped in the late poet’s work.
However, in English, Darin is supportive of Su,
Telling her, ‘Your lap’s singing is a fantastic gift!
The thigh’s the limit,’ he quips, and while she gets his drift,
She feels embarrassed by the strangeness of her singing legs,
And the way they started singing with no warning,
She wondered how they knew the words.
‘Tunes from your lap,’ Darin enthused,
‘That will make people clap!’
‘We’ve heard of lap dancers, they’ll say,’ he continues,
‘Now, here’s Su Chong—the world’s first lap singer!’
Looking down at her thighs, Su sighs,
‘They’re quiet now, my legs. Can’t you see?
Not knowing when they will burst into song makes it wrong—
They’re no good to me.’
‘Steady on, Su. What you have is unique!
It’s too precious to abandon in a fit of pique.’
But Darin’s entreaties came too late,
She’d already decided to amputate,
Both of her legs with help from her Japanese Samurai mate.
Afterwards, ironically, both she and Darin were stumped by her peculiar fate.

FOOTAGE FROM NAROLC'S WORLD

I filmed this strange activity recently, in a room I often work in where I live. What on earth is going on atop of my desk?



HOUSE OF CATS EXHIBITION

 

Participating in Independent Artists Open Houses Brighton & Hove 2015.

Welcome to the House of Cats. We are five artists united by our love of cats. Some of us paint them, some of us draw them, some of us sculpt them, some of us have them, some of us heal them, some of us have recently lost them. To all of us they are our inspiration and our joy.

 

As one of the oldest and greats in art and animal welfare said,

“The smallest feline is a masterpiece.”
Leonardo DaVinci.

 

From Klimt to Colette the cat's musedom in art and literature has been infinite. We at the House of Cats attach ourselves to this multitude of feline inspired creatives. The house is also blessed with the presence of two lovely cats, Romanovich and Kiki.

 

We dedicate this exhibition to our recently departed, beloved cats, Jodie and Taz.

 

Elise Garnaut
Christine Oldman
Christine Campbell
Ruth Hedgecock
Maureen McCormack

Lost Cats Brighton recently helped to reunite us with our sweet Jodie so we would like to donate a percentage of our sales to them - www.lostcatsbrighton.org.uk

 

 

THE PENNY STILL INN

The Penny Still Inn was quiet,
Like a removed stomach.

Shyly, Penny was still in in her make-believe pharmacy,
Checking penicillin was still in,
To fill in, her imaginary friend,
Gaspar clinks bottles in the lab behind her.

Her behind is where we find her self-esteem is at its lowest point.
Sometimes she will anoint her left buttock with oil of cloves and melted Camembert.
Her neck is frequently sore from looking over her shoulder at her arse in a full-length mirror,
Frowning at her pallid, plump cheeks bulging above her thighs,
Prodding herself with a finger, fantasising, she sighs.

It wasn’t her fault she’d become a recluse,
With her oppressive upbringing, she’d never been let loose.
Nor was she guided well as a captive youth,
She’d been indoctrinated with dysfunctional values—that was the truth.

Until her possessive, alcoholic father was murdered by a gang of bagpipe salesmen,
She’d only known life in one house,
With her father for company, the radio and a pet woodlouse.

Urged by her father to design tartan-based wallpapers,
To impress his traffic warden friends,
Her childhood days were weird and full of misery,
She thought they’d never end.

A sympathetic policeman tried to help her once,
Soon after her father’s death,
She found him very attractive despite his horrendous breath,
She offered to polish the metallic parts of his helmet—an offer he refused,
Enraged, she spat in his face feeling that she’d been used.

Since then—so many lonely years—she’d been through so much:
Self-harm, selotape fetishes and losing her virginity on her old rabbit hutch,
Mail-order scams, arson involving mattresses and (mercifully empty) prams,
Overcoming her various addictions: to seafood, serrated edges and jams.

I’m not bad for my age, she thinks, then, suddenly, she’s in a rage,
She doesn’t know how old she is, she really has no clue.
Nor whether she’s a Buddhist or an orthodox feminist Jew.
She knows her shoe size (5 and 6) and that blue is her favourite colour.
But why the days are the length they are is still beyond her grasp.

She feels scarred tissue on her wrist giving it a nervous clasp,
Hyperventilating, poised between arousal and panic, pacing in her dimly lit room,
Occasionally, she feels euphoric—mostly, a sense of doom.

Mice and lice share her abode,
Conveniently, for her provisions, there’s a shop across the road,
Run by a very short man with a face like a diabetic toad.
He flirts with her and winks all the time she’s in his store,
She smiles at him politely, sensing he’s after more.

‘I’ll never go to bed with you,’ she shouts at him one day.
‘But it’s just in case you snore!’
Taken aback, reddening, he gasps and stares at the floor.
So much for the last seventeen years, he bitterly reflects,
So much for their fantastic rapport.
All his wasted efforts, he mourns, now he knows he’s not wanted any more.

‘I’ll kill you with a staple-gun,’ he screams. ‘You wicked, fucking whore!’
Stunned by the spontaneity of his fury, she doesn’t each the door,
In time to evade the short man’s attack—first, he staples shut her eyes!
Before cutting off her tits and things, ignoring all her cries.
So by offending a maniac shopkeeper, she creates the way she dies,
Unless, of course, all of this is just a bunch of lies.

IMP LORE

Imp lore includes a tale of a disabled imp, with a limp and precious ore.
They’re ever attentive listeners, who’ll feign interest when they are bored,
Because they are raised to always be polite,
‘Always be polite,’ they are, by their parents, implored.


Imp lore is obscure, partly for the reason that imps will seldom write.
‘The Bottle Imp’ is a classic story by Robert Louis Stevenson,
But the title imp does not emerge in glory.
They rarely feature in horror films because they are too gory.
I think imps are apolitical, but who knows?
Maybe they vote Tory.


Mischievous imps are commonplace, like sailors with ‘a rolling gait,’
While imps delayed at airports are imps who are made to wait.
It helps them learn to cope with their imp-atience!
Their favourite sweets are mint imperials, which they suck with impish delight.
Imps, generally petite, are hardly heavy, in fact, they’re very light.
They’re not known to be nocturnal, but you can see them at night.


If ‘The Simpsons’ lost an ‘S’, it could easily describe an imp’s male offspring,
I can’t see a person getting animated over this series though, that’s the thing.
I wonder, is the most popular imp-spotting season of the year spring?
Imps sound like pimps, but imps can make prostitutes vanish,
While pimps just make their incomes disappear.


Short-tempered imps, readily taunted, are imps you can easily goad.
A ship’s hold is where I’m told a cruising imp’s stuff is stowed,
To me, imps are awfully precious—they’re worth their weight in gold.
I hope to inspire greater imp awareness in the public with all that I have said.
It is imp-erative that I succeed, or else I will imp-lode,
This explains the urgency of my imp-ulse here to unload.

DISAPPOINTING THINGS

Drawing pins that can't draw.
Lifts that don't improve your mood.
Pills that are hard to swallow.
Directions that are hard to follow.
Obsolete phone directories.
One half of a walkie-talkie set.
A wet seat on a bus.
A greasy handshake.
A close-range conversation with a halitosis sufferer.
Enforced close proximity to smelly people.
Enforced close proximity to boring people.
The frequent repetition of familiar, boring stories of great length.
Having to repeat things.
Having to rephrase things.
Having to repeat rephrased things.
Contemporary pop stars shelf lives.
Footballers’ verbal skills.
Christmas.
The ageing process.
The visibility of the ageing process’ in our childhood heroes.
Adulthood.
Gainful employment.
First times—especially drinking and having sex (with someone else).
Mainstream culture.
Croydon.
The sequels to box-office smash hit movies.
Enthusiastic bagpipe players.
TV ads for PPI.
TV ads for life and car insurance.
TV ads for compensation after an accident.
The money you actually receive in post-accident compensation.
Typical British sporting careers under close examination.
Elections.
Budgets.
Politicians’ promises, actions and inaction.
Repeats of Only Fools and Horses.
David Jason’s acting.
Reportage of celebrity deaths.
Reportage of crises in the Middle East.
Papal elections.
Oscar winners.
TV ads appealing for just £2 a month.
Media coverage of the monarchy.
Facial expressions of newsreaders imparting news of a royal pregnancy or birth.
The succession of countries invaded by the US.
The UK’s consistent support for US invasions.
The collective short-term memory of the general public.
The collective taste of the general public.
The number of times the daleks are featured in Dr Who.
Public surprise at political corruption.
Public surprise at the obvious.
The relentless inefficiency of the NHS.
The widespread economic slavery of people who consider themselves to be free,
Their complicity in their enslavement.
The childlike obsessive consumerism ruling materialists’ lives.
The omnipresence of shitty products created by popular demand.
The overuse of mobile phones.
The general restlessness and discomfort so visibly afflicting so many people.
The absence of peace and quiet.
The proliferation of litter.
Bad manners.
The life expectancy of non-productive people.
Terraced housing.
Announcements of ‘breakthroughs’ in cancer treatment.
Cancer research.
Contemporary teenage expectations.
The conspicuous absence of sparrows.
Increased volumes of English rain.
Overpricing in UK pubs.
The uniformity of UK cities’ shopping malls.
Franchises.
TV programmes of lists of things presented by non-entities.
TV programmes of clips of things presented by and commented on by non-entities.
The absence of a sequel to the movie Titanic.
The fact that the movie ‘The King’s Speech’ wasn’t made in 3D.
The prevalence of diabetes.
The commonness of obesity.
England’s performances in World Cups.
Excuses offered for England’s performances in World Cups.
The sustained hopes of die-hard English fans.
The relationship between Sky TV and UK pubs.
The relationship between the wealthiest, most powerful people and the media.
The widespread public paranoia about Islamic extremists.
The Daily Mail.
Readers of The Daily Mail.
The Daily Express.
Readers of The Daily Express.
Token eccentrics, in communities and contemporary culture.
Christmas viewing on TV.
The number of times Kipling is quoted.
And Churchill.
And Oscar Wilde.
Mass-mesmerism by the media.
The collective lack of non-material aspirations by the materially acquisitive.
Human arrogance.
Animal exploitation on every conceivable level.
The availability of IVF for mothers who’ve had three or more children…