"Houses sleep/Vermin travail/Haulage winds by road or rail/For only few know of the reign/And horrid intent … of The Monk Kings!"
19th September 2017 – On this day, the “Investpert” channel, run by Richard Whittaker, a London-based financial advisor, on YouTube carried a short video bearing the following text.
“I’m spending this day in remembrance, as it is the funeral of a very dear friend and mentor. Thank you, Tommy; you set me on my path, and showed me the only way is hard work!
More content tomorrow!”
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights]
John Paul’s journal, 19th September 2017
And so dinner finished, and I reflected on I and my parents’ conversation.
Having enjoyed my evening walk yesterday, I thought I could repeat it to the same effect. But I was wrong. At the end of the front garden, I looked along the road of Woodhouses. What could I see, but the cottages and houses sunk and buried behind the great, old, grasping trees―squirrelled away by those trees, and the trees only now beginning to lose the dresses of leaves that would reveal their true nature; as crooked, directionless, asymmetrical hands, knotted and growing out wherever―blind, and somehow evil. Why I kept on I will never know. I can barely believe I kept on my original yen, and walked down onto the old railway track that runs all the way still through Etherley and onto Witton Park―that near-first rail line that moved County Durham’s coal, and of which only the grassed embankment remains.
There is an enclosure, between Woodhouses and Etherley, on that path. I’ve often thought it was an old orchard. The grass grows very long, but between the small gnarled trees it still shows a depression in the earth. Perhaps a pond was there once. I was walking head bowed when I approached it tonight, so I saw only a flailing movement, and pale in the dark, so it wasn’t so distinct from a branch waving in the wind. I do not know whether the delay in looking towards the pond-hole made any difference. But I am sure a figure was there — a pale, naked figure, arms and legs thrown about in a dance. I remember a large head of stringy hair, turned away from me. When I think back now it does not strike me as if it was an adult, but somehow both like a child and a very shrunken, very old man, only not quite either. I cannot say why―perhaps it was the arms. And―now this will amaze―I remember little else. It skipped round where the hollow is―its head always away from me―and in three steps it was out of view round one of the trees. But I would also say this didn’t look right, as as it moved, it appeared to get further away, shrinking away. Receding where no creature could recede. All this was over in a flash. I saw nothing else.
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights]
Tindale. Perhaps the dale of tin – but Cornwall is its own ancient seat. Not “Tintagel” then, but some other Tin. Certainly not this retail tinny ring – the telephone rings on the CAPITALISTS nice mahog desk “Oh sire – we divent ‘ave any mines no more – can’t we have some traffic islands to build an Aldis and Tescos round?” So speaks the mayor, to a bonny bougie Shafto – just PUTTING IT OUT THERE. The planning commission nods – they’re DREAMING OF HODS/Service sector with a smile – not building sector WITH A FIST. But what’s done is done. A PARK-WIDE STRIKE of all staff will teach the REAL Tindale Towers not to JUMP the ROUNDABOUT.
Shug 20/9/17
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights. Image taken from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:KFC_at_Tindale_Crescent_County_Durham_-_geograph.org.uk_-_2522786.jpg ]
Audio from video uploaded to Richard Whittaker’s YouTube channel, “Investpert”, 3.15pm, 21st September 2017
“Hello all … look [ergh] … look around me. See anything interesting? Stacked settees? Paintings over every last inch of wall? A rather classic looking cupboard? And down here on the table—just look at this little fellow. Now would you believe a little red-and-white-striped panther like this would put you back, ooo, a fair whack in this neck of the woods. And I have here a man who would be able to say exactly how much you could expect to make on this and many other items. A specialist in antiques and, in particular, Sunderland FC collectables, Tommy Tuppence Jnr! [Hello, Rich.] Hello, Tommy! Now, myself and Tommy go way back. [It’s true.]…”
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights]
Job Centre Plus Manager to Job Coach. Re: Joe Stanley
BA Job centre outward email received following today (19th September 2017)
“Hello,
I have missed my work placement today and I am very sorry. I managed to book the wrong bus to Darlo (am rather than pm) and I didn’t have money for the fare, so I couldn’t get through. I rang the place and they asked me to inform you. I am very sorry again. My name is Joe Stanley and my NI number is JP7658Y.
Yours sincerely
Joe”
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights. Image taken from https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:TEA_STAIN.jpg ]
Excerpt from “The Himself” by Priya Azhural, published in Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, Issue 68a, September 2017
He was looking at the himself again. The picture of his face and body next to the himself’s wife. Bills with his name. Documents with his name and another man’s birthday. A letter to his namesake from his namesake’s mother. He put them away, as it was time for his next duty.
Dinner was there and he ate in silence. Majory asked, after five minutes, “How was your day?” He didn’t know how to answer, apart from to say it was horrible. He found himself wanting to say that, but he felt that same deep feeling of being obliged to save the idiot’s feelings. “OK, I guess,” he managed.
“I’m sure it will get better.”
“They say it will take a while,” she added after a while. She seemed to have no trouble eating her food. He forced it down. She didn’t seem troubled. He didn’t know this woman. He couldn’t tell.
They went through to the sitting room to watch TV. After a while she said, “I’m so glad you’re back with me, Mervyn.” That was the name of the Himself. “He’s” he heard himself say, before he clamped up—was clamped up—again, “I’m here now.”
“Yes, you’re here now, Mervyn.” She reached out to cover his downturned hand with his. “You were away for a little while. Just a little while,” she smiled. Her eyes were sparkling when he met them.
“Oh dear. You look confused. Here, it’s okay. Do you want me to explain again?”
And, so she explained about the himself again, not him.
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights. photo images taken from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siphonophorae#/media/File:Photographs_of_living_siphonophores.jpg ]
New Records acquired – 20th September 2017
Definitely Maybe – Oasis
The Great Eastern – The Delgados
Me and a Monkey on the Moon – Felt
John Wesley Harding – Bob Dylan
The Colour and the Shape – Foo Fighters
Liege and Lief – Fairport Convention
A Night to Remember – Cyndi Lauper
Heaven on Earth – Belinda Carlisle
Coltrane Jazz – John Coltrane
Cowboy Bebop Official Soundtrack – Tank!
Born to Run – Bruce Springsteen
Hail to the Thief – Radiohead
Philosophy of the World (reissue) – The Shaggs
Tender Prey – Nick Cave and the Bad Band
Speakerboxxx/The Love Below – Outkast
Out of the Game – Rufus Wainwright
Transformer – Lou Reed
XX – Mushroomhead
Leave Home – The Ramones
Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J. – Bruce Springsteen
Moseley Shoals – Ocean Colour Scene
Stains on a Decade – Felt
Back to the Egg – Wings
The Band – The Band
The Burning Red – Machine Head
Dig Out Your Soul – Oasis
Wake Up! – The Boo Radleys
Silver Sun – Silver Sun
Turn! Turn! Turn! – The Byrds
Love – Aztec Camera
Swoon – Prefab Sprout
The Best of Paul Robeson Volume 3 – Paul Robeson
Three Friends – Gentle Giant
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights. Photo taken from https://creativecommons.org/tag/public-domain-books/]
Phone calls from Mr F. Red’s mobile, 079289225, 24/9/2017
7.03pm 01325 3000 – Eldon Hall
8.28pm 01388 6254 – 52a Etherley Lane
8.29pm 077976868 – Private Number
Letter to Northern Echo, published 18th September 2017
Dear Sirs,
I was bemused by your recent article discussing the comparatively white composition of the population of Co. Durham. As it happens, one of my best friends from school happened to be of Nigerian extraction. I can certainly attest to the racism he occasionally faced, but combined with my later experience—and I would hazard he would agree—I do not think that the level he experienced was any better or worse than that faced by Black persons in other parts of the country. I maintain this as a man of traveller heritage, and as subject to some degree of prejudice in my time myself. Overall, then, I found your article excessively negative.
Yours sincerely
John Bradley
Bishop Auckland
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights]
Retrieved from Greg Hedge’s phone, created 4.33pm, 26th September 2017 – audio distorted
―Ian … … … … … … … … … … …… … … … ….. … …. … …―
[Writer, performer and producer reserve all rights. Photo acquired from here: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Edinburgh_a_westbound_local_train_from_Waverley_emerges_from_The_Mound_Tunnel_geograph-2321049-by-Ben-Brooksbank.jpg ]
The Monk Kings 
