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Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Tara, Goddess of the stars

SYNODEITIES: Ishtar (Babylonian), Terra, Earth Mother (Roman), Tara Mother Goddess (Druid), Tar Woman of Wisdom (Finland), Tarahumara ( Aztec).

I was once welcomed into a home in Kathmandu, Nepal.
The guy who invited me to his parents house had a cousin
or a sister there whose name was Tara.
They told me her name means 'star'.
She was very beautiful.

sketched by dweller at 10:30 pm
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Sunday, November 28, 2004

that hospital that library
it's a ward of peace,
three cuts on the abdomen,
3 pound fifty for the tv,
nurses tested you round the clock,
you got full love service,
for free,
god bless the en aitch mess,
you sure brush up good,
when the spotlight gives you a rest

started today in the library,
took the reigns of the mystery,
pay the fine,
or defer it to next time,
relax its not a crime,
plenty tea breaks,
were offered me,
shuffling books in a public gallery
is there a bladdy computer free?,
chill round the corner and wait you'll see,
kids got their story books,
old arabs and afros mumbling politics,
on the newspaper table,
I got to get the code right,
colours and alphabets,
shelve it smile,
can I volunteer to help the grannies?,
sure saffa babe,
just take this leaflet.

we played scrabble,
Zit was used twice,
and seth lost because
he didn't know
axe can be ax

I'll rig it so I win
The pig will race against the duck.


sketched by dweller at 1:28 am
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Friday, November 26, 2004

juggling things
sister in hospital,
saw my ex-girlfriend yesterday,
new job on saturday,
helping someone move house on sunday,
aunty visiting from abroad,
arranging a first date with someone,

its no wonder I am getting a cold.
my emotions are all over the place.

sketched by dweller at 2:17 pm
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Wednesday, November 24, 2004

wait a minute mr postman
pleeeeeeze mr postman>>>>

okay its the midweek slump
slump, bump and thats right
fidget, yawn, stretch and
you got it
along comes another dawn

fair to middling
mild to frost
creeping death to barely alive
we must strive to get thru
the surging weight of wasted time

but believe in tomorrow
her shining eyes
are ready to guide
our piece of meat
t'wards the glittering prize

yes she'll come and
follow her I will
get the blood and brain
pumping wave the lump
about in the air
talk and snort and run and plop
and help and ask and laugh
and we're made up again

life gets tricky without structure
without those yellow walls
that shine like silver

sketched by dweller at 11:51 pm
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duh! well, er...

sketched by dweller at 10:48 pm
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Tuesday, November 23, 2004

how to win the national lottery



Today we discuss the importance of open minded mayhem. Live dont die.
A blade of grass today is tomorrow's dog stool.
Remember the insignificance of time.
Beware the absurd magnetism of space.
I defy you to utter your language without prejudice.
We are all visitors here.
That is why the mayhem exists. No exit until now!!!
We are like telegraph poles after a storm.
Reconnection is not spontaneous.
Travel the spaceways and feel the electric love vibes.
Give and receive.
We are all brothers and sisters.
The trellick tower of joy can be yours.
Find in yourself that awareness. Its waiting for you.
As are your opened siblings.
Terminate hate. Do it live it squeeze it breathe it.
The intelligence of the blank horizon.
Then we have to touch our visions and believe.
Dont remember and think. Just know and act.
Or ignore this message, because when it comes from within yourself, it is then that you will believe.
Message number two will come shortly.
Over and out to all you glowing deities in the surround.

sketched by dweller at 9:39 pm
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hanging coats for KT Tunstall punters

I ocassionally work at the barfly in camden
as cloakroom attendant for the gigs that are held there.
It means I can catch up with my good friend and
see some up and coming bands.
Tonight I saw a couple of songs sung by
KT Tunstall, female singer songwriter from Scotland.
Completely sold out after an appearance on the
Jools Holland TV show,
we could have a star in the making on our hands.
I had never heard of her before
so I was keen to see what all the fuss was about.
She definitely has a solid collection of songs,
she is a confident performer with nice natural and quirky
intersong banter. As someone said on her website
its inoffensive music. Nevertheless it is appealing uplifting gutsy stuff.
It has a few suprising flavours; for example the melodies tend to have little unexpected flourishes tacked on so you don't feel too much like you've "heard it all before."
After the crowd's enthusiastic reception I reckon the sky's the limit for oor KT.
I wanted to get her to sign a flyer
with "I love reading childwithoutaneye"
but I never have the cojones for that kind of thing.
Anyway the lass doesn't need any more geeks floatin' about.

Not someone whose album I will probably buy,
but I am sure I'll be hearing alot of it over the coming year.
KT could be marketed as 'Norah Jones with balls' though
I'm sure she'd have my baws for even thinking that.

sketched by dweller at 1:37 am
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Monday, November 22, 2004

rare ween album

This has to be the rarest Ween album ever. I am still trying to track down a copy.

sketched by dweller at 11:10 am
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weird blog spam phenomenon
From my blogger bar I randomly clicked and
found these two similar looking blogs that
apparently contain just lists and lists of
pages that seem to have been lifted from a
search engine page.
One concerns acne and the other perfume.
All the posts have been posted today.
I wonder what is going on here.
Some kind of experiment?

Do any of you blogging aficionados have the answer?

sketched by dweller at 1:02 am
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pure mechanics
This is a document celebrating the pure mechanical road to freedom . the dalek sea, the burnished ring piece.
The heavenly dood aaaa
And the blessings never to shudder and escape the hunger in our thyme,
And also the frogmarching is attentive, ears pricking.
So gather the tortrue equpiyment and slither the key picking gentry so proud and devilish cutthroat pirates eyes patched up in a Jolly roger fashion like captain picard down the loony bin at last.
Starving and cold and unhappy and still hungry and ill and in pain and crying and smelling and dirty and scared and vacant and aching and not sleeping and not dreaming and hating the fear.
But that’s ok for them.
They are not on our pure mechanical road to freedom.
He he he heehhh oooouuuchhh coooros junglastorbrentishmanklovatish.

sketched by dweller at 12:18 am
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Sunday, November 21, 2004

the house party
I spoke to a Spanish guy from the Basque Country.
He had been in London since June and was really
enjoying being here. His only gripe was that
our seafood was too expensive and not as fresh as
back home. In Spain I have come across many
people who eat much more fish than they do meat.

Another couple of people I spoke to
were two delightful sisters from Turkey.
Aged 18 and 21 and with a gentle open demeanor.
They've spent the last ten years in Denmark.
They are fluent in Danish and Turkish and were here for
four months to improve their English.
I discovered they like pop and r'n'b.
Their favourite part of London is
the new pedestrian bridge which joins the Tate Modern museum
on the south bank to St Paul's cathedral on the north.

After a sunday roast lunch today, with wine,
plus the previous two nights of boozing
I was feeling all cosy on the train home
wrapped up in a delicious sleepy bubble.
Listening to Juana Molina on the walkman
complemented my state of mind and body.

sketched by dweller at 10:06 pm
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Saturday, November 20, 2004

younger than yesterday
so last night what was that all about?
started off with red wine and a frozen pizza

then I hit the university bar where
one can indulge in some green
surrounded by my friend and his
phd theses writing friends

one of whom is from India and
has the most incredible way of
speaking English. Every sentence he speaks is grammatically
correct and perfectly pronounced.
the most incredible thing is that he
never fills pauses with words like
"um" "er" "ah"

anyhow aside from that I started
a running joke with the women present
after reading Arnold Exposed a web page
dedicated to defaming Arnold Shwarzenegger.
when caught in the act of oral pleasure
with a woman who was not his wife Arnie's excuse was
that "Eating isn't Cheating"

So the base humour slogan for the night
was up and running.

later after a curry and boring chats about
Chomsky, Stuart Hall and someone called Kav
we split from the phders and headed for
more boozy climbs in Camden Town

nipped into a Spanish bar which opens late
there one of my friends described a time
when he was a boy and his mum asked him to carry
out the following experiment for a day
he was to stop himself from using the words
"I", "me", and "mine".
Its a very difficult thing to do.
it is said that if you do it for a week your
you enter a state of awareness that is
more communal and less self centered.
Your concern and understanding of others
feelings and needs is no longer drowned out by the
selfish ego (or something like that)

a couple of dos equis's later we
headed to the haunt of the young
and nubile, a place with a late license,
djs playing rock and indie music,
and lots of people jigging about until
all hours

on entering the upstairs dancefloor
I was pleased to note the very loud
strains of The Stooges "I wanna be your dog"
blaring from giant speakers.
on seeing the vast numbers of beautiful
young women wearing next to nothing,
whilst hearing the thundering of
the night was complete for me

drunkenness, youthfulness,
and loud punkrock
on an ice cold november night

note to self -
I must remember to write a book called
"Nubility and the Male Prerogative"

sketched by dweller at 2:24 pm
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Friday, November 19, 2004

you´ve got to love a bit of cheese
no hay ninguno cueso,
and I love cheese
bit of stilton and apple
slices of parmesan on the pasta

flame grilled pears in parsley sauce
dirty great hunk of red leicester dumped on top

pidgeon compote minced up with
almond puree and spread on ryvita
sprinkled with shavings of something hard

slithers of chilli pickled port salud
resting on a bed of bruised chinese leaf salad

diamonds of gorgonzola pinned with cocktail sticks
to shelled escargot in a port gravy

¿no os gusta? ye heathens!!

sketched by dweller at 3:12 pm
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autumn's child
Its another beautiful autumn day here in
London and I am reminded of the song by
Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band.

'Go back ten years ago sunbeams dancing round
Go back ten yeas ago sunbeams dancing down
Autumn's child Autumn's child

Autumn's child got a loophole round her finger
Halo rings her head
Cornhusk hair makes me linger
A cat's stare meet s my dare
A man's chair greets my stare
Gonna be my wife she sang she said
Gonna be my wife gonna spice my life she said
Go back ten years ago sunbeams everywhere
Go back ten years ago sunbeams fill the air

Harvest moon be nimble
Apples bob and tremble
Fish pond streaks love kind
Found the child I have to find
Apples shine share together
Got the time to make her mine
Fish pond streaks love kind
Found the child I had to find

Autumn's child-I met her at a balloon buts picnic
She caught me with the beauty queen
With jade-green eyes buttons and bows and fancy ties
The feet of dust under trees of rust
make them sandals gambol under knees of trust
Gonna be my wife gonna spice my life she sang she said
Gonna be my wife gonna spice my life she said

Go back ten years ago sunbeams shining down
Go back ten years ago sunbeams glancin' round....
Autumn's child...............'

sketched by dweller at 12:14 pm
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thursdays child
has very very far to go,

I inadvertantly wiped a blog entry
that I was about to publish here.

all I can say is that I waffled something
about friday's child, loving and giving

spanish eddie turned up and fiddled about
as he tends to

Ned Kelly ran the scene

Bruce Langhorne twanged his gitarr

and I went to bed

night night

sketched by dweller at 12:48 am
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Wednesday, November 17, 2004

unbelievable hype
With the innumerable blogs that exist out there, 99.99999% of which I have never read and neither have you, is there good reason to
embark on a project such as this ?
My answer is yes, absolutely.

I put my first webpages up back in 1998.
I had spent much of 1996/1997 living in a hazy state of
blissfulness; Writing and drawing spontaneous weird things
in scrappy little notebooks.
The creative ego messily spurting.
Ah yeah, this is cool, I'll make a webpage.
So I sneaked into friends university libraries and read an html
tutorial site called daves site.
Lo and behold I created the home for my whacked out poetry.
I named it Matt Kings Unbelievable Hype.
The last time I updated the site it was being hosted by an old isp of mine.
A few years ago they removed the site and I thought thats it, all over,

Last week I discovered this amazing site the wayback machine.
My baby was still out there - yeah baby yeah.
Now this baby maybe a little embarrassing in places,
painting a certain picture about the author of this site.
But as you know, a bird will sing the same song all of its life.
The same cannot be said for human beings.

Returning to the spirit of the original question.
Is it worth writing that one blog amongst the millions?
These initial words I wrote for that old webpage give reason
for us to shout out, "YES its worth it"!

"Welcome to you all; loveable and unloving beings and creatures.Fleshy visitors with pulse, warm blood and skin.
Let me cut to the snatch. This is a two way give and take thing. Hopefully in this mess of pages will be a snippet of gobbledegook with some value to you. If a little electric miracle occurs and begins a domino run in your synapses then please let out your feedback,
whether it gushes or trickles, into this drain known as..."

Here it is Matt King's Unbelievable Hype

sketched by dweller at 9:56 pm
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my first post of this blog
welcome to child without an eye
this is my first ever blog and it is ,as yet, completely
without structure purpose or meaning.
but its MINE, all mine and that's quite a nice feeling.

I have joined the masses, the millions, the enscribers of the
human word upon the flickering web of alien code built
by those coffee drinking pizza munchers.

the title Child Without An Eye is taken from the song Buckingham Green
written by a great band called Ween
I also have a fledgeling winamp tv/radio station named
child without an eye which has broadcasted live epiphanies of
eclectic music, instant visual creation, dark comedy and apocalyptic poetry
to a maximum of audience of one!

anyway, enough about that...
I hereby declare this blog open

sketched by dweller at 7:18 pm
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