Category Archives: art

Jabberwonky…

*

The bunker phone was black and sleek-sided. Its ring was  a cross between the old-fashioned police car bells and the Avon-Lady… It rang now, insistently…

Teigue-the-Fool contemplated the insistent, sleek-sided, black thing, and the corners of his mouth flicked into a smile. His eyes danced as he lifted the receiver from its cradle and placed it against his ear, “Yaas?” he said.

“What’s the problem?” growled Big Bee, clearly irate that his ‘sabbatical’ had been interrupted.

“No problem, sire,” smoothed Teigue, “just an update…”

“Well, get on with it then,” snapped Big Bee.

“The double-jabbed hospital cases are not getting better,” drawled Teigue, and then paused waiting for the truth-bomb to hit home…

“What, they’re dying?” blustered Big Bee.

“Dying, or being sent home paralysed.”

“Do we know why?” asked Big Bee, gloomily.

“We should do,” retorted Teigue, “it’s been sound medical practice never to jib-jab during an outbreak for many years now.”

“What do you mean?” asked Big Bee, back in bluster mode.

“I mean, that the jabs cause the variants which are also resistant to the jabs,” said Teigue.

“Bugger!” exclaimed Big Bee, “what can we do?”

“We can drop the wonky jabs and revert to safe, effective, traditional treatments which are already on the market.”

“Gulp,” said Big Bee, swallowing air.

“You’ll need to come back to do that. Where are you anyway, I forgot to ask?”

Click-click-drone…” Big Bee’s line went dead.

“Oh, and your popularity has flat-lined,” said Teigue-the-Fool into the empty receiver…

*

 A Questionable Science:

Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

*

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon

‘Tub-Thumping’…

*

‘O Mister Wot

What have you got?

Are they the keys to Browning Street

In your back pock…’

*

“Infernal racket!” A bleary-eyed Big Bee emerged from beneath the cushions of his couch and blinked in the over-bearing light of the bunker.

“Ever so sorry, sire,” smiled Teigue-the-Fool, “I didn’t realise you were still here.”

“Trying to think,” said Big Bee.

“Ah, you may need more than silence to navigate this little predicament.”

“But we have more than silence,” smirked Big Bee.

“Another one bites the dust?”

“Nothing like a minister falling on his sword to keep the vultures away, what…”

“What’s Wot got to do with it?”

“What indeed,” grinned Big Bee and said nothing.

“Oh, I get it,” hazarded Teigue, carefully placing a finger on the corner of his mouth, “no body is talking about the six hundred million lateral flow test results that went missing.”

“Missing?” laughed Big Bee.

“Lost?” said Teigue, raising his finger in the air.

“Deliberately destroyed to preserve the pro-lock-down narrative.”

“Can I quote you on that, sire?”

“Don’t be silly, Teigue, of course not.”

*

… ‘O Mister Wot

Just like Pol-Pot

The trail of deaths

Lie hidden from the flock…’

*

 A Questionable Science:

Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

*

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon

 

 

 

Bottom-Rock…

*

Big Bee stood contemplating his overlarge leather travel-bag.

“Stay-cation?” asked Teigue-the-Fool.

“If only,” smiled Big Bee, “unfortunately, men in my position can’t afford such luxury.”

“Busy… busy… bees,” sang Teigue, shaking his rattle.

“Indeed,” continued Big Bee, “and my plan to vaccinate the world by the end of the year has almost come to fruition.”

“You sound like a Bond villain,” said Teigue.

“Bond villains don’t save the world, they destroy it,” sighed Big Bee.

“Quite,” said Teigue, and then, “almost?”

“I just need to convince the rest of the K-Nine countries.”

“Ah,” said Teigue, “of course, most other countries of the world outside those of the K-Nine already have the ‘pandemic’ under control, and without the use of a vaccine.”

Big Bee looked blank.

“I-ver-mec-tin!” pronounced Teigue, with a flourish.

“Insufficient clinical trials,” blustered Big Bee.

“No need for clinical trials if it works in the field,” smiled Teigue, “which it clearly does, and without the initial spike in deaths the vaccine rollout initially produced, and it already has a forty-year safety record.”

“Damn I-ver-mec-tin! Damn, damn, damn I-ver-mec-tin!” growled Big Bee, clenching and un-clenching his hands, into and then out of fists, and shaking them alarmingly. “We’ll see.” He zipped up his travel bag with a resounding ‘zing’.

“Portugal?” asked Teigue-the-Fool.

“Portland bloody Bill,” snarled Big Bee.

*

 A Questionable Science:

Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

*

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Fact-Checka’! …

*

“The only thing

mutating

is the lie!”

Count Jack Black

*

 A Questionable Science:

Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

*

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon

A Questionable Science…

 …Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon

Departing…

*

With the afternoon heading inexorably

towards evening at a pace…

and a two-and-a-half hour drive

before our next hostelry

ahead of us…

*

*

We probably did not really have time to explore…

*

*

But I am so glad we did.

*

 

*

Deep within the Forest of Yore…

*

*

We discovered a Clootie Tree…

*

*

And an Old Celtic Chapel.

*

*

Holy Scions…

*

Given that we were now checking out the ‘Michael Line’,

One might have expected some sort of ‘Angelic Support’…

*

*

But even by our standards,

The send off assumed ridiculous proportions…

*

*

It also offered unexpected vindication

for our speculations in the ‘Doomsday Trilogy’…

*

*

A ‘Glastonbury Thorn’.

***

DOOMSDAY

The Aetheling Thing     Dark Sage   Scions of Albion

All books available via Amazon in Paperback and for Kindle

Don and Wen, following the breadcrumb trail of arcane lore and ancient knowledge, scattered across the landscape of time, turn their attention to the myths and legends of Old Albion. They delve into the tales of King Arthur, asking some very strange questions about biblical family trees and exploring the many stories that abound in the very landscape of Avalon. Meanwhile, in Derbyshire, the voices of the past still whisper from the stones, opening a passage through time, place and memory to another world…

 

Doomsday: The Ætheling Thing

How is it possible to hide such a story… the hidden history of Christianity in Britain? Oh, there are legends of course… old tales… Yet what if there was truth in them? What was it that gave these blessed isles such a special place in the minds of our forefathers? There are some things you are not taught in Sunday School. From the stone circles of the north to the Isle of Avalon, Don and Wen follow the breadcrumbs of history and forgotten lore to uncover a secret veiled in plain sight.


Doomsday: Dark Sage
…. something was spawned up on the moor… something black that flew on dark wings. It heeds not time or place… but it seems to have developed a penchant for the travels of Don and Wen….
“Are those two still at it?”
“Apparently….”


Doomsday: Scions of Albion

Things are getting serious…

Exactly what is Wen doing with that crowbar and why is she wearing a balaclava?

All will be revealed…or will it?

Follow the story begun in The Initiate and the Triad of Albion,

as Don and Wen explore the ancient land.

Clues…

*

“Well, it has taken a while, but I think we can be fairly certain that this particular example of the symbolist’s art has something to do with the number eight.”

“‘Fairly certain’? ‘Something to do with’? It is hardly the stuff of science, now is it?”

“Symbolism, by its very nature, is much more than science, and much less too.”

“You are not making much sense.”

“It is open like an ‘art’, but its precision is less focused and more inclusive.”

“I keep wanting to turn it on its head.”

“Which would give us a… mirror!”

*

*

“And the ‘S’?”

“Stands for saviour.”

“Or a stream.”

“Which flows underground.”

 

 

‘The Cavalry’?…

*

‘I remember when I was with Special Forces…

Seems like a thousand centuries ago…

We went into a camp to innoculate the children.

We left the camp after we had innoculated the children for Polio, and this old
man came running after us, and he was crying, he couldn’t say…

We went back there, and they had come and hacked off every innoculated arm.

There they were in a pile… A pile of little arms.

And I remember…I …I …I cried… I wept like some grandmother.

I wanted to tear my teeth out.

I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

And I want to remember it.

I never want to forget it.

I never want to forget…’

Colonel Kurtz, Apocalypse Now!