Blue Saturday

https://scontent.fhuy2-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/16114728_964843260283491_4832604270920672090_n.jpg?_nc_cat=110&_nc_ht=scontent.fhuy2-1.fna&oh=6c09fa2fb8c806302b08bfe083b0d0f6&oe=5CF147F6

nan, cousins, vague

at least in them days Walkers Crisps weren't getting bummed by Lineker! I was looking at an old pic from October '78 of me + bro in garden with dog, and that world seems so distant now - I literally feel like some embalmed relic.

my cousin shared this, there's always a shock. there's a Larkin poem where he talks about "lately I've caught myself saying '30 years ago'" or words to that effect, that rattles around my head a lot lately

Is that you in the striped tie? That tie (and that facial expression) are awesome.

No, that's my little brother. I'm holding the football on the right with an equally awesome expression.

A+ jacket!

great top. great photo.

Thanks!

Incidentally, that's my sister to the right of my brother. They're twins.

What a bunch of beautiful small people!

The moral of this story is that going to the pub raises many interesting philosophical issues

Beautifyl

Of course if you're thinking about going to the pub, you're over-thinking

There are days when one feels cool and almost outside yourself, resigned to life as exile but at peace with your friends and neighbours and loved ones who you inevitably fail, as they fail you, try as we all might, and at peace with the love of friends and loved ones, each of us brittly together and apart all at once, and it's OK, and the sunlight is OK.

spurs to hammer burnley too

Would be entirely acceptable

unseasonably mild and sunny weather had me thinking of mid-afternoon drinking, but friend i got in touch with is away and gf up to other stuff and it’s all feeling a bit hemmed in and spurs 1 burnley 1 at the moment.

xps or yknow not

lol where are u watchin it fizzles

At work, counting down last 45 mins then going home to shave the beard off, don a Hawaiian shirt and pastel blue sports jacket and attend a birthday party

i’m trying to do *writing* so just following it on the mbm. i approve of the Noodle attire. think i’m going to knock this fairly abortive session on the head and go and get a glass of wine in the sun like a colossal prick, maybe even take some poetry with me for added effect.

a line from a poem, “all the flowers of the heart turn to ice flowers”, itself a lift from Kierkegaard’s diaries, has been running round my head and has confused itself with Petrarch’s line “in a net I gather the breeze and in the ice flowers” and now i want to read Petrarch which is what put the idea of reading poetry in my head. it’s a confusion tho because its predominant meaning is “and in ice i gather flowers”, tho i’m assuming the ambiguity here indicates a pun.

still, the reason i’m maundering so is the original eberhart poem seems v blue saturday:

"Mysticism Has Not the Patience to Wait for God's Revelation"
Kierkegaard

But to reach the Archimedean point
Was all my steadfastness;
The disjointed times to teach
Courage from what is dreadful.

It was the glimpses in the lightning
Made me a sage, but made me say
No word to make another fight,
My own fighting heart full of dismay.

Spirit, soul, and fire are reached!
And springs of the mind, like springs of the feet
Tell all, all know, nothing wavers there!
All the flowers of the heart turn to ice-flowers,

Heaviness of the world prevailing
("The higher we go the more terrible it is")
Duplicity of man, heart-hate,
The hypocrite, the vain, the whipper, the cheat,

The eternal ape on the leash,
Drawing us down to faith,
Which the Greeks call divine folly,
The tug of laughter and of irony.

2-1 wtf

im sure ive posted it a dozen times but the quintessential blue saturday poem for me is kinsella:

The day dawns, with scent of must and rain,
Of opened soil, dark trees, dry bedroom air.
Under the fading lamp, half dressed - my brain
Idling on some compulsive fantasy -
I towel my shaven jaw and stop, and stare,
Riveted by a dark exhausted eye,
A dry downturning mouth.

It seems again that it is time to learn,
In this untiring, crumbling place of growth
To which, for the time being, I return.
Now plainly in the mirror of my soul
I read that I have looked my last on youth
And little more; for they are not made whole
That reach the age of Christ.

Below my window the wakening trees,
Hacked clean for better bearing, stand defaced
Suffering their brute necessities;
And how should the flesh not quail, that span for span
Is mutilated more? In slow distaste
I fold my towel with what grace I can,
Not young, and not renewable, but man.

poch out

look at that fucking rhyming scheme tho

if our back line was half that tight

Walking down Holderness Road this morning and we suddenly heard piano music out of nowhere, genuinely magical and weird, there was an old guy outside a cafe playing a charity piano sesh busking old 30s/musical hall-ish numbers, it was engagingly Hull.

look at that fucking rhyming scheme tho

if our back line was half that tight

there’s the odd pub in london where you can be walking down an alley and hear piano coming from the open doors and damn if there’s anything more evocative, half jaunty and humourously *there* half bygone and insubstantial.

Yeah it came right out of the mood of the weather and the day

Aaaah god I don't wanna be alive and sober.

Not that I'm doing well at either.

Stood bar-propping achy and wrong day but too much rubble in my head and have to build a shelter of something

hi there

place worse without you

worse without everyone rly*

*within reason

place is doldrumy nicht war?

Probably not best-placed man to blow those away right now, but give it a couple of pints :D

couldn't poss encourage you in yr vices obv but please god come back roaring in a few yes

so many threads to post "i wish i was dead" on

i wish i aa

was dead

Hitler documentaries und wishing i was dead

love u boo

*emoji for wan teary grateful half-smile*

Lol trailer for "Hitler's Most Wanted" seemingly presented by some blond beastly looking motherfucker

Fuck's sake cunts keep saying "lebensraum" with an ee sound

that piece from Ein Deutsches Requiem on the intro to nazis: a warning from history is really powerful, but also sort eerily chest pumping nationalist marching music.

Nazis were all about the emotional frisson isn't it unless you stopped to think for two seconds or were already a racist cunt with barely-suppressed murder urges which unfortunately yadda yadda

Think I'm gonna keep drinking until organs shut down feels like a plan of sorts

also gonna keep sticking "For What's It Worth" on the Secret DJ because a) why the fuck not? b) pingy guitar noise c) International breaks are the scourge of a godless fuckiverse

throw in he got game every fourth spin imo

Good call

Dit's cd

I wwishi was dead

hang in there tho, eh.

still love u boo

Stay with us & talk to us NV.

Just seen a back garden union jack sun-bleached to the point of having quite a lot of black in it

makes u think