4. Eyes in the Machines

Abel held his breath, closed his eyes, and counted backwards from 10. When he opened them the machines were still looking at him. Big, metalic, shinning creatures, he wasn’t sure where their eyes were, but they definitely had eyes.

Was it his boss spying on him? New company policy to monitor staff ? Or the government tracking him? All seemed very possible, yet there was something else, something in the machines themselves, that knew him.

At first he’d thought he was delusional but now he knew it was more real than anything else he’d ever experienced. Not only were they looking at him from the outside, they were inside him as well, they could see his thoughts, they could taste the ingredients of his being.

He was coming to the end of his 40 hour shift. It hadn’t been so bad, though he’d had to take another one of those Spletzer-Martins. They were meant to keep you going for 40 hours no problem, but he always found he was flagging after 35. Not that it was tiring work, just rotating those huge machines, but failing to do it properly could muck up the whole network which would be catastrophic. Yes, better that he sneak an extra bottle of Spletzer-Martins from the office pharmacy now and then, than risk the whole network going down.

Elsie had told me he’d been feeling rough. To be honest I didn’t  care. I didn’t know Abel that well, but I was developing a certain curiosity for the dramas surrounding him.
He is a friend of my friend Elsie. I chatted to him via Facebook and met at gigs occassionally. He’d always seemed quite pleasant and cheerful until that time I saw him in Clapton. It was late at night in a small venue off the main road, he looked so tied and old then, and nervous. He’d seemed a very confident almost arrogant man before, but now he was uncertain, shaky in his speech, and with the guilty look of a man whose just rummaged through your underwear.

Elsie told me he was worried about debt, working long shifts to pay it off. It is a relief that one can do that now, what with these new tablets, just keep working and working till you pay off all your debts, as long as you resist the temptation to get new ones come pay day.

Next – 5. Slapdash

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3.Underlondon

2. Abel

1. What YOU Need!

 

Aliens – The Hammersmith & City Line

It was after Sexton Ming’s 50th Birthday party, I was sitting on the train in the platform waiting for it to leave, singing the Rude Mechanicals song Aliens to myself.

You see the mice on the tracks, you see them as you wait for your train

You think they’re vermin but they’re not

It was late. There was a man sitting opposite looking at me with a puzzled expression on his face as if to ask what I was doing. I stopped singing and asked him “Do you think this train is going all the way to Hammersmith? Or terminating at Edgware Road?

“Yes” he said with a sly glint in his eye, “its going all the way to Hammersmith. I’m the driver”.

We were silent for a minute, I still had the Aliens song going round in my head

They’re all aliens they’re aliens I’m sure

I hummed under my breath. He looked straight at me.

“Would you like to sit in the front of the train with me? ” he asked.

I was going to say no but something inside urdged me on. Up I got and followed him into the light blue cabin at the front of the train. He checked mirrors, pressed bright lighted buttons, and off we zoomed into the dark tunnels.

Bred by the train company

Fed till they’re big and fat

The stations appeared like small islands springing out of the blackness. They were mainly empty. Lonely looking controllers pressed buttons, grunted, and signalled us onwards. We chatted about his job as a train driver, the night shift, the hours between last train and first train, the appalling fact that the circle line nolonger goes in a circle.

Squeezed all they’re fluid flowing out

“what were you doing tonight?” he asked

“Performing” I said

“Are you in a band?”

“Yes”

“what do you sing about”

“Actually we’ve done a song about the mice on the train tracks and how they might be aliens”

The train jolted slightly. He turned his face to me. It twictched.

” And London Underground know the mice are aliens but they’re….”

“Breeding them so they can use alien juice to power the trains” He finished my sentence.

He knew! It was true!

Cheaper than gasoline

The train was pulling into Hammersmith now. He turned his head back to concentrate on the driving. I clamped my mouth shut tight.

“You are a little mouse like” he said

I said nothing

“I have my car at the station, I’d better drive you home”

The cabin door opened, he moved towards me but before he could grab my arm I’d scrambled down onto the platform.

Hurriedly I gasped “Thankyou but no, I’ve got to walk my dog now”

With that I jolted to the station exit and ran as fast as I could all the way back home.

Rusalka

Rusalka - Water Demons
Water Demons

I am possessed by demons due to wearing the evil mask Simon Aronson made me. But luckily it will all be alright because the 11th June is Rusalka Night!
It is in early June that the Rusalka water demons are most dangerous. They leave their watery depths in order to swing on branches of birch and willow trees by night. They entice bachelors and children dragging them down into the watery depths or tickling them to death!
To render these water demons harmless and perhaps lay their souls to rest the Rude Mechanicals will be celebrating Rusalka week on Saturday 11th June with music, dance, and the ritual burial of mermaids. http://www.rudemechanicals.co.uk

A large rat, a missing cat and a Wednesday night Against Nature.

Monday 10th May 2010

George - my missing cat

I spent most of today making paper in the back garden which should have been lovely but wasn’t. Partly because I kept hoping George would suddenly appear but he didn’t, partly because what did appear was the largest rat I’ve ever seen aside from Stanley Bad.

George is my cat. He got beaten up by one of the local tom cats and has since disappeared. It has been three weeks now.

Stanley Bad is the perverse Lynda Beast replacement in the Rude Mechanicals that turned up as Lynda disappeared behind a beard. He plays violin, saw, trumpet and spoons just as well as Lynda so I’ve agreed to let him stay untill Lynda reappears. However, now I find that he is plotting against me.

I found this out at the Against Nature club opening at the Proud Galleries in Camden. Dickon Edwards is starting this new night every first Wednesday of the month and invited the Rude Mechanicals to play at the launch night. It is a lovely venue, what used to be a horse hospital with the old wood beams still holding up the place, and he booked some excellent acts. I particularly liked the magicians BARRY & STUART, one of them had a wallet with an entrance to hell in it, really, he opened it up and flames burst out. Dickon makes a fine DJ in his silk dressing gown and I think this could become a really good popular night.

Anyway back to the evil plot. Rude Mechanicals had done their soundcheck, gone to a pub to be indecisive about a set list, and were just on the way back to the venue when I heard Stanley trying to steal Tommy G away from me. Apparently Stanley wants to start his own band as a rap artist and reprogramme Tommy G to play hiphop!

Stanley the rat, the evil poisonous mutant! How dare he!

But what am I to do? He woos Tommy with his talk of exotic jazz complications. He says he will be of a higher standard than me. Huh!

That is Stanley Bad for you.

And he can’t do chocolate ads as well as me! Not that I’ve ever done a chocolate ad, but I will and it will be much better than his! Just you wait. If that doesn’t put him in his place him I have a cellar I could lock him in, naked and chained to that giant rat I saw this morning.

(The rat was in the garden, not in the house, but should I still try to get rid of it? And how? Isn’t London flooded with them? It wasn’t in the least bit scared of me, but I think I’m a little bit scared of it!)