my life as a artist
the guardian poor on the fouth dimension
Friday 25th May 2007 12:05 AM
In the Guardian today, Oliver Burkeman laments of a book that ' it is usually shelved under Mind / Body / Spirit, along with execrable nonsense about crystals, astrology and witchcraft, which means it is most likely to be bought by simpletons.'
Oliver, or Ollie baby, or maybe just Ol, used to live next door to me when he was a fifteen year old schoolboy. When he was doing work-experience for the York Evening Press I granted him an interview. It was around the time when David Icke was in the news, and I told him that I was the son-in-law of God, but I didn't tell him that I was joking. ( it's a sort of comedy technique) A few weeks later I discovered that he'd believed me and had actually started to worship me.
In the meantime, we'd had a few conversations over the garden wall where I'd talked about the mysterious hidden power of crystals, the universal insights gained from astrology and the resurgent matriarchal roots of witchcraft, in a light-hearted, chummy sort of way. Little did I realise that, based on these conversations and the fevered scouring of the mind/body/spirit sections of York's bookshops, Oliver was building himself a personal cosmology that involved me as a major avatar.
Even though I've now got a beard, I still don't feel comfortable with the role of major avatar, especially if it's one of those sacrificial ones. When I told Oliver that I was only joking about being the son-in-law of God he was devastated. His youthful idealism had been shattered and he felt betrayed and humiliated.
A few careless words, a cheap laugh, a bit of topical material, and a young man's capacity for wonder and humility can be destroyed forever. (although he's probably going through his Saturn return at the moment, so he might get it back again). I've always felt guilty about my part in making Oliver the sort of young man who could write such arrogant bollocks, but now I've confessed it, I feel a bit better.
I'd also like to confess to fantasising about dressing up big diggers, and other earth moving plant, with really big but skimpy erotic lingerie. I think I feel better about that as well.
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Posted by capsule filling machine , on Saturday 8th December 2007, 7:15 PM
Big diggers don't have genitals, why dress them in lingerie?
Posted by Les Miserable , on Sunday 27th May 2007, 4:30 PM
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