* 200 articles. Two years. Whelk. The best of Upsideclown. Might be reprinted.

Each To Their Own

30 August 2001
James has had some help.

In 1974, she made her first million. By then, however, the Cycle had reached a downsome phase, and there was nothing but gravity between her and that hard cold concrete slab. They say she died happily.

"Fucking hell get out of the bloody way. Can't you people get a brain and lead a fucking normal life for once without causing obstructions to all us normal people trying to get back home from a frankly fucking hard day's work? Jesus Christ you weirdo fanatics with your horrible funny clothes and greasy hair and constantly groaning and moaning like you're constipated. I mean I'm all for doing your own thing, but couldn't you do it indoors and far away from major traffic arteries like this one. I've been crawling along here for forty fucking minutes on account of all you heretics. That's it. That's fucking it."

They became a fad among the occasional occupant's of London's glitz-glossy gossip pages. And with a successful not to say powerful spokesperson and backer, the movement was able to push constantly outwards while retaining the image of 'cool' and 'hip' for the infinite flow of young converts. Reports started coming in from state schools that there had almost been a reversion to uniform in the higher classes, the Potentates had become so numerous. That was before the First Rout of '84.

"Women and Children First, please. Don't Push, thank you. There will be room for everyone, but please take a number so that we can trace each of you. Don't forget the numbers, people, we all know how important that is. Please, don't push."

"Thank you for coming, and first I'd like to thank the good people of Loftus Road plc for allowing to use their wonderful facility for free. All please, meditate and pray that QPR do well this season, and begin their long-awaited sky-rocket back to the Premiership and hopefully one day European glory. I have given Ian Holloway our good book, now only our prayers remain."

"That done, please allow me to welcome to the main stage, the head Potentate of our West London quarter. You as well as I know her and love her. Please rise..."

"Target Acquired, sir. Clean shot available. Awaiting command."

"Hold steady. Repeat, hold steady. I want to hear her sing for a bit."

Since the beginning the cycle has been. We have all been. There is no end. While dirt-science and the mean-gods claim we have only one life on this earth, you know otherwise. We recognise natural beauty because we have seen it before - the familiar is beauty. The individual never dies, and so society is an illusion.

A recent joint study between statistical geographers and bio-diversity ecologists has given surprising credence to one of the central claims of the New Religion. While two simple truths have often been accepted, they have never been examined in conjunction. It is true that the human population has grown at an ever expanding rate, although that rate is now showing signs of slowing. It is also true that fish stocks, coral reefs, rainforests and wildlife in general has suffered a general trend of decline since the early industrial revolution. Using a complex and detailed economic theorem, coupled with a study of all available historic data and projections, this report shows that there is a statistically significant chance that the total number of living macro-organisms living on the planet has been constant throughout history as long as records began. Is this simply a Mammoth Coincidence, or is this actual solid evidence towards the reincarnation theories?

"Hello madam, I'm glad I found you in. It is a rather miserable day, isn't it, it being August. Hoping for an Indian Summer, me too. Yes. Speaking of the weather, we were just wondering if you had ever given any thought to your spiritual direction, and how an organisation such as ours could help it? Studies do show that those with faith do live an average of 2.5 years longer."

"No. Please sod off. As for spirit, I was the Ebola virus in a past life. And I have proof."


This is the fucking archive

Current clown:

18 December 2003. George writes: This List

Most recent ten:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)

Also by this clown:

27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
16 October 2003. James writes: Jakesy's School of Urban Driving
24 September 2003. James writes: Chapter One
4 September 2003. James writes: The Silicon Soul
14 August 2003. James writes: A Room With 100 Seats
24 July 2003. James writes: English For Beginners
3 July 2003. James writes: Coldplay are crap. Discuss.
9 June 2003. James writes: It Takes All Sorts
22 May 2003. James writes: Lesson 2: Buying his Gran for a tenner
1 May 2003. James writes: Rosencrantz and Leytonstone
10 April 2003. James writes: Character Building
20 March 2003. James writes: So This Is It. What Are We Going To Do About It?
27 February 2003. James writes: Street Level Zero
6 February 2003. James writes: Reference: James Noteworthy
16 January 2003. James writes: Kissing George Clooney for just £99!
26 December 2002. James writes: Hongkong In Four Tableaux
5 December 2002. James writes: We Are Your Idea
14 November 2002. James writes: The Knight Of Spring Fervent
24 October 2002. James writes: Go On, Be Honest
7 October 2002. James writes: Cold Comfort
12 September 2002. James writes: Peas In A Pod
22 August 2002. James writes: Seed Investment
1 August 2002. James writes: We Are QPR
11 July 2002. James writes: The Road to Ossuna
20 June 2002. James writes: Pret A Teleporter
27 May 2002. James writes: A Play On Words
2 May 2002. James writes: Labour Saving Device
8 April 2002. James writes: Beggaring Belief
14 March 2002. James writes: Small Things
18 February 2002. James writes: Drop Dead Letters
24 January 2002. James writes: High-Rise Rhapsody
27 December 2001. James writes: My drift's too hip to resist.
6 December 2001. James writes: My Lord Has No Nose
12 November 2001. James writes: A Job For Life
18 October 2001. James writes: Which is the cleverest animal?
24 September 2001. James writes: Interview With An Automatum
30 August 2001. James writes: Each To Their Own
6 August 2001. James writes: An Escape, In Sonata Form
12 July 2001. James writes: Truckloads Of Goodies
18 June 2001. James writes: There's No Such Thing As A Coincidence
24 May 2001. James writes: It's All True - The Paper Says So
30 April 2001. James writes: A Letter From Prisyn
16 April 2001. James writes: I Quit
15 March 2001. James writes: An Essay In Procrastination
15 February 2001. James writes: Confessions Of An English Sand-Eater
22 January 2001. James writes: The Future And The Pasta
28 December 2000. James writes: Never drink with men in red
4 December 2000. James writes: The Underground
9 November 2000. James writes: Right answer. Wrong answer
16 October 2000. James writes: The March of Proudfoot: Part I
21 September 2000. James writes: You haven't got a chance
28 August 2000. James writes: Bad, man. Wicked
24 July 2000. James writes: I play games with street lamps

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