The Man on the bendybus

A man appeared on the bendy bus as the bus snaked between New Cross and Lewisham. The man was caked in dirt ,black with filthy fingers raw with injury. He tried to hide from the driver by squatting in the centre of the bendy part of the bus taking intermittent swigs from a can of illicit lager. The distinctive lager stink wafted occasionally in my direction. When the bus judders I saw the man's wounded fingers as he grasped the hand rail beside me. The man was confused and made a false recognition of a mistaken friend who pretended knowledge to make fun, a sort of odd sport that some make of drunks and the mentally infirm. The delusion was momentarily a fantasy between the two men till realisation struck the drunken man who slumped down on the bus floor in obvious dejection grabbed for the near empty lager can to satisfy an endless need. He cursed the can when it ultimately became empty.

Bastards and church attendance

I am plowing through the Bible and have come across a right old statement. If you are a bastard none of your family for 10 following generations can enter a church. A generation is roughly 35 to 40 years therefore 350 to 400 years. The Lindsay clan was renowned for fornication in the 17th and 18th century. The family crest has bar sinister that is a diagonal black line this warns of bastards in the clan. The Lindsay clan has two bar sinister showing that there are a plethora of bastards in the family. So am I banned from entering a church? Looks like it.

The Erlking

Just heard Schubert's very frightening Leider version. It is utterly compelling and totally scary.

Erlkönig	Erlking
von J.W. Goethe	Translation by Hyde Flippo
Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?	Who rides so late through the night and wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;	It's the father with his child;
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,	He has the boy safe in his arm,
Er faßt ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.	He holds him secure, he holds him warm.
«Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?» –	“My son, what makes you hide your face in fear?” –
Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?	Father, don't you see the Erlking?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif? –	The Erlking with crown and flowing robe? –
«Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif.» –	“My son, it's a wisp of fog.” –
«Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!	“You dear child, come along with me!
Gar schöne Spiele spiel' ich mit dir;	Such lovely games I'll play with you;
Manch bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,	Many colorful flowers are at the shore,
Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand.»	My mother has many a golden garment.”
Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,	My father, my father, and do you not hear
Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht? –	What the Erlking promises me so softly? –
«Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind;	“Be quiet, stay quiet, my child;
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind.» –	In the dry leaves the wind is rustling.” –
«Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn?	“Won't you come along with me, my fine boy?
Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön;	My daughters shall attend to you so nicely.
Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn,	My daughters do their nightly dance,
Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein.»	And they'll rock you and dance you and sing you to sleep.”
Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort	My father, my father, and do you not see over there
Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort? –	Erlking's daughters in that dark place? –
«Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau:	“My son, my son, I see it most definitely:
Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau.»	It's the willow trees looking so grey.”
«Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;	“I love you; I'm charmed by your beautiful form;
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt.»	And if you're not willing, then I'll use force.”
Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt faßt er mich an!	My father, my father, now he's grabbing hold of me!
Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan! –	Erlking has done me harm! –
Dem Vater grausets, er reitet geschwind,	The father shudders, he rides swiftly,
Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind,	He holds in (his) arms the moaning child.
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not;	He reaches the farmhouse with effort and urgency.
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.	In his arms the child was dead.

Wow...

What an unday

I sat in the flat today wondering what to do. I felt tired out by the past week and looked out at the rain that had shattered the sunshine days that the week began with. Strange feelings seemed to fill my body. Tiredness made me dream odd panicky visions that were like ghosts questioning the space I inhabit. Funny strange and unilluminating but creepily numbing. Its an odd off day undelivered actions of earlier wants dissolved into dislodged feelings and like unset words on a crumpled page. May be I am being confused by having a non day unforged like molten lead waiting for an artist to shape. The artist like Godot had not turned up and like a Becket character I was paralysed in unmoved action. Unformed and unfunctioned seems the theme and perverse conclusion of this unday. I wait for the unday to dissolve into a real tomorrow and not a strange unsettling untomorrow.