Death Dances in the Shadows


Excerpt from “Powderfinger” Winter : Chapter 34

Alex was lost in his own thoughts regarding ”Powderfinger” and more to the point, how he could win back his self respect, by catching this monster.


Again, she peered into the eyes of the others, searching for the perfect moment, to continue her recantation. “Furthermore, I can confirm that all these bodies have been murdered in a similar fashion, stabbing and slicing with a particular weapon.” With that, she reached for the box, that she had almost forgotten to bring with her and slapped it on the table, in front of her. She slowly opened it and retrieved Melissa Gilbert’s model of the weapon, that she and her team, believed had been used in these killings, both ancient and contemporary.
With a dramatic flourish she brandished it around in front of them, demonstrating a stabbing and slicing action. “Whoa there Jinx!” cried Alex “You’ll have someones eye out with that if you’re not careful!” That comment broke the tension and Jinx, with a chuckle, placed it down on the table for Nick and Alan to investigate. “There it is and you can make of it what you will but I think that you will have to agree, gentlemen, that it’s an awesome, though well balanced implement of death.”

Postcards from the Wilderness

05.04.11-Steve-Bell-on-th-011  Achtung Baby!

Katie Hopkins excels in “Der Mittfords,” an hilarious look at the everyday day lives of folks in, Middnatzy.
“A small mistake” at the centre of the maelstrom, causes a Twitterati sensation and Madma Goebblz, played by Miss Hopkins, gets it in the neck. Fitting really, after her claiming to have willfully killed her six children after meeting Mr. Adolf, played by Eugene Farage, at a bunde meeting in The Home Counties.
Just as an aside. You may be entitled to suspect, that there are a few slates missing off this particular roof and that it would be kinder to simply starve her to death, by cutting off her publicity machine and turning the damn thing off.
Next thing, she’ll be going on about Crazy Lord Janner and something, which he claims to have forgotten about. The Law can be an unfortunate victim of public opinion but we can’t allow the morocracy to win on this one, or any other such cases, because down that road Chaos and Anarchy await.
“Mummy, was O.J. Simpson guilty?”
“Well, I thought he was but the jury said otherwise.”
“So he’s innocent?”
“Yes dear, that’s the law.”


Death Dances in the Shadows


Excerpt from “Powderfinger” : Winter, Chapter 33

He stood on the bank, next to The Ravens Gate Bridge and looked at the brooding black outline of the ornate structure, as it crossed over the still waterway. The rotting metal archway merged into the giant wrought iron gates with their Cast Iron Ravens perched upon its peak, reaching skywards. In this light, the factories silhouette looked like that of an ancient city, long deserted and forgotten by men. It was as if the memories of those who had once lived there, had somehow become dulled and oblivious to it’s existence. As he stood by the water, looking again at this bridge in the gloom of the new dawn’s light, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of ominous foreboding. Frank, shuddered involuntarily and then speedily made his way, along the steadily warming gravel, towards the huge barge that was going to deliver the death blows, to this old Industrial Installation.
Mercifully, Frank, was only aware of the initial cut, he was gone from this world before the Raven’s stripped the skin and flesh from his bones, leaving him on the ground, in a soup of bloody gore and bird shit.

Death Dances in the Shadows


Excerpt from “Powderfinger” : Winter, Chapter 32

Seemingly, all it had taken was a few murders, some strange mortal wounds on the corpses of the victims and the formation of a secret cabal, which was now, only inches away from acquiring a secret handshake, to bring them together.

His car sped rapidly through the light traffic, so he found himself at his destination rather early. Alex pulled over at the end of the lane which led to Jaqui’s abode, and checked the time. He sat, twiddling his thumbs, listening to some music on the car stereo and watching the clock slowly tick towards the appointed moment. He felt like some idiotic young man, attempting to hide from his girlfriend’s parents. “Stupid,” it undoubtedly was but “god, it’s still exciting,” even after all these years. As the time drew near, he drove onward and parked outside her home. “Get a grip, you silly old fart. Get out of the fucking car, go knock on the door and see if Jinx wants to come out to play.” That small, amusing nugget of childish banter, made him smile internally but it failed to prevent, a nervous reversion to something resembling a spotty kid, who actually, knew nothing about women and was just winging it.

On the periphery of his vision, he registered that there was something in the room, that was moving. He looked up above his head, at the dancing dark silhouettes, that were playing across the ceiling of the room. Gnarled and cold, the shapes of the bare tree branches, danced noticeably in the stiffening breeze outside and played against the white light given off by a modern version of a Victorian Street Lamp. As he peered into the shadows, his eyes started to play tricks on his mind. The random flickering shapes began to form a corporeal essence and it was no longer a matter of shadows. Again, it felt as if he was almost reliving those moments inside the No.1 Shed at The Ravens Gate. He could feel the fear rising in his chest and a single bead of sweat, slowly ran down his brow and fell silently, onto the mattress.

Death Dances in the Shadows


Excerpt from “Powderfinger”: Winter Chapter 31

“Something unknown and strange at play here and if pushed, you could honestly say, that we’re traveling through ‘Terra Incognito.’”for the want of a better phrase and nobody, could contradict you.”
Then an awful truth began dawning on Alex Findlay, as he sat behind his desk, planning his evening with Jaqui Pinnock. Maybe, the same killer had murdered Nesbitt and Draper and it, whatever it was, had been within a whisker of adding him to it’s list of victims, that day in the big Number One shed at The Raven’s Gate Works. Anxious to avoid any thoughts, that may relate to his sanity, he had said nothing of his fear and had sent Nesbitt and Draper in there alone and unarmed, to their deaths. He felt that wave of guilt and remorse wash over him again. Now all he had, was a crazy theory about a killer, who it appeared, was possibly three hundred years old. “Impossible,” he said again and attempted to carry on with his day, as planned. Alex, was getting nowhere, this was a completely fruitless endeavor. He was just sitting in his office, racked with guilt and overwhelmed by a need to redeem himself. “Pull yourself together” he admonished himself, “Get on with the job at hand and cheer up, or you’ll be a crappy dinner date and after all this time, waiting for the right moment to ask Jinx out, you don’t want to blow it now.”
“Everything, will appear to be normal but I’ll tell you what, Nicks, when you’ve read this book, there will be no more normal days by the side of this canal.”

Postcards from the Wilderness

markesmith     “God help this poor boy.”

I have to admit, the uncomfortable truth.
I’m really enjoying listening to The Fall.

I realise that this is not normal behaviour but I can’t help it. Some of their / his  stuff, is fucking clever. I used to think John Peel, had gone mad. “Mad I tell you,” when he used to go on about The Fall but I think that I was in error. Now I take it all back.

Don’t get me wrong, he was often a real dick but sometimes he got stuff spot on and we all simply had closed ears.

CaptainBeefheart1972-01-15b  When they’re good, they’re fucking brilliant. A British version of       Captain Beefheart but with less blues and more beer.

“Revolting Mancunian in Boddingtons-ah fuelled dimentia scare-ah.”

“I plead insanity.”

Death Dances in the Shadows

Excerpt from “Powderfinger” : Winter, Chapter 30

“I advise you not to show this book to anyone else. Simply, read it and then hand it back to me, before the ceremony. I think you may find you concur with our revised arrangements.” He then wound up his open window and drove sedately down the driveway, towards the gates.

What if Constance Goodchild’s wraith, was the same creature, that their little cabal was seeking and furthermore, what if her entity, was also, their ‘Powderfinger?’ He looked curiously through the smoked glass, squinting, as if that would allow him to see through the mirk. He was really looking outwards, at the faint outline of the cold dark canal, reflected in the pale moonlight below him and even though he knew, that there was nothing tangible out there, he couldn’t help but look. In truth, he was looking for that translucent glow, which she had described several times in great detail, moving along the bankside.
Alan, was now starting to believe …..

Death Dances in the Shadows

A-murder-of-crowsExcerpt from “Powderfinger” : Winter Chapter 28
Feeling that his duty, as an ‘old mate,’ was now completed, he abruptly changed the subject and the tone of the meeting changed. Alan, brought Nick crashing back down to earth again, by darkly interjecting, “I don’t want to worry you but you can see from my place, that the big black birds, have returned to The Ravens Gate. I noticed them, growing in numbers” and after a long sigh, he added, “Something bad is going to happen, trust me.” Nick, sat silently and just looked at Alan. All thoughts of the lovely Jennifer, had flown from his mind when Alan had spoken those ominous words. “How do you know,” he said questioningly? “Call it a feeling. Call it intuition, call it whatever you fucking well like but it’s following a pattern I’ve seen before.” Now, he had got Nick’s full attention. “You’ve seen this sort of thing before?” He queried. “No, not exactly.” Said Alan, “I’ve seen this pattern of events pan out before, it always starts with a gathering of Ravens, and I can tell you this much, it never ends well.” Nick, just looked at him, and disbelievingly, shook his head. “So what you’re saying is, this thing, isn’t over yet.” Alan, returned his concerned look and simply added, “No, I don’t think so, not by a long chalk.”

Postcards from the Wastelands


Somebody should tell Jeremy Kyle, that you can’t become addicted to Cannabis / Marijuana / L.S.D./ Magic Mushrooms and many other things…….Psychotropics / Mind altering substances, call them whatever you like. His endless schpielling of the crap is counter productive. Maybe the rabble in the studio, are so thick, that they honestly believe him but I doubt there are that many morons still active in this world today.

OK, UKIP voters excluded!

“Sometimes the needs of the one, outweigh the needs of the many.” Spock, must have been out of his Vulcing head, when he came up with that one. He will be sadly missed………

“Stay stoned and prosper, y’all,” replied McCoy and passed the Joint to Scotty………
“Captain, the brainbox cannae take it, it’s going to blow.”

I’ve been a regular user of the weed, for many, many years and I’ve always approached each new ‘high,’ with the same expectations. (1). This is going to stone me, “Da-da-da-da-dah.”
Or, (2). It isn’t doing the right thing for me, at this point in my life. “Oh well, it’s back to the Brown again.”

There’s no addiction here, I simply enjoy it and the Keller Yeats novel, “Powderfinger,” would never have been written without it.  “All hail the Weed, the bringer of light to this world.”

Now if it was Heroin, Meth, Crack, or Cocaine & Co, we were talking about, you’d have a point to make. However, having been a smoker / vaporizer for decades, I have to report that, sadly, I’m not psychotic.

I don’t go “Cold Roller,” when I can’t get a toke for some time and it’s not a gateway drug either. When I was a young man, I tried all sorts of ‘stuff’ but always came back to “the smokes.” Music sounded better and life ran at the correct pace for me. I don’t advocate anything for anyone else, just remember, it only matters that you’re at peace with yourself.
*Note. Believe me, it certainly doesn’t make your hair grow. “I blame my paternal grandfather for that.”

Mind you, if they invented something that guaranteed your Cock grew to a minimum of 10 inches and the hard-on was for the duration of the stone, then I reckon that could have been classified as, “Psychological Addiction.” Some people, wouldn’t even have to take it, to become addicted……..
“Buy Schlong and get the new religion.”
You could even develop “Schlong ‘Extra’, for the connoisseurs, or prospective pole vaulters.

“Can you dig it?”