Having seen the Silbury Hill mystery POP (PinkyOrangePurple) cloud that looked like rocket smoke yesterday, and then finding this StellaDrone epic space music today, some (neurons in my mind, like the Numskulls of comic fame, and Inside Out characters of movie stardom) are wondering if it was Stella Lagerwolf-Bruno of the greenYgrey world (inspired by Stella McCartney, Karl Lagerfeld and Sacha Baron-Cohen’s Bruno character) who’d POPed in to visit Silbury.
Is Bjork a Utopian Yorkshire Tea fan? Before discussing the similarities of the Utopia and Brewtopia videos, with a time difference twist, first here’s a little Bjork name fun Folding Mirror poem, which will hopefully please and promote Bjork:
Bjork Pronounced, Poetically Bounced
Be York, as in city
Be Orc, mixed with pixie
but please don’t proceed, tempted by incendiary need
the incorrect, Be dork
or scandalous, Be jerk
greenYgreyologists in the coffilosophy age wondered at the coincidence of how Bjork started writing her Utopia album drawing inspiration from walking in the Icelandic countryside just as the greenYgrey trilogy was ending there in the epic classic XaW Files: Beyond Humanity… and they shared a PinkyOrangePurple (POP) theme:
There was no accusation of Bjork being inspired by the book, but it would be a compliment if she was… or has even heard of it. More recent research has shown that Bjork also had a greenYgrey phase too, as seen in the videos for NotGet and Solstice.
Tea Time Discovery
The Kenco cofficionado does have more questions to answer, especially as he appeared a few months after I contacted them about my coffilosophy/er… and is a bit of a Russell Brand.
It’s okay for the upper classes with their ‘special skills’ to go round looking at people and reading their minds while staring at them! If that was me I’d be called a weirdo witch!
Anyway, the passing of the age from coffilosophy to philosophT; in name if not drink! I do try and drink tea in the afternoon, rather than another coffee, but do still have my two mugs of strong coffee in the morning; at the moment I have one Kenco and one Morrison’s Gold; has already borne tea gold.
I returned to this Yorkshire Tea advert I’d thought at the time was very greenYgreyish. Returning to it now and seeing it was called Brewtopia I thought it may be a parody of Bjork’s Utopia, but then when I looked at the date it was the summer of 2015, so preceded Bjork’s album by some time, as she only started writing it at the end of that year.
It was in the heart of the greenYgrey years, but its POP twilight colours in the sky at the end did precede the greenYgrey POP age being published in XaW Files, although I might have blogged about it beforehand. I doubt if they were influenced by me, and we were both inspired by that scenery.
I originally repeated Reflection 22 in 24, and have now edited it. Sorry about that!
Reflection 21 mirrored Between Times of Fantasy. Maybe it was thinking of some time in the future like now when it was written. Here’s Reflection 21:
Sometimes I have written poems about my unknown future with inspiration from the forgotten past.
Then, a few years later I read it again.
The time when I wrote the poem, which is now of course the past, is then relived by the future mind that was written about.
Is it worth contesting people’s religious, political and cultural beliefs and views? While you may save them, you could also destroy them.
Somebody who might be saved in one way from a life of slavery and ignorance may in other ways die from freedom and knowledge.
And if you show them the possibility that life has no meaning, without providing anything else, are you not like a doctor taking heroin away from an addict without providing any methadone.
And for yourself, maybe you’ll ruin your career or life trying to do what you think is good, and do very little to change anything: or even make things worse by giving those you consider wrong more ammunition and an enemy to deflect attention and legitimise their cause.
The poem was written after the UK riots of 2011. Although I sometimes dislike modern society and yearn for a more natural one, the scenes of mass destruction against homes, businesses and landmarks looked all wrong.
Whatever the pressures and problems (if it wasn’t just greed and power), there are always places to escape if desired, rather than trying to create space in somewhere densely inhabited.
Many people feel they’re not their real selves within modern society; which is literally a construction. Most think they become their real selves outside the work environment, when they spend time with their family, play sports, or escape into the countryside.
I often wonder whether this is something inspired by life in modern society; a natural desire of your life in the here and now; or is it something imprinted in your genes stretching back to our ancestors in prehistory.
Michael McCarthy was also quoted from an article about St. Kilda published in the Independent newspaper on August 9th, 2012: ‘…I think the longing for nature in its pristine state is much older. Remember, we have been computer operators for a single generation, and workers in offices for about three; but we were farmers for 400 generations, and before that we were hunter-gatherers for perhaps 20,000.’
Chekhov’s statue returned to its plinth position and stood still and silent as if nothing had ever happened.
I was wondering what to do with Sibiryakov’s body when a Womble I remembered as Tomsk wandered along and cleared the body up.
I thanked Tomsk, and said I’d been a fan of his when the Wombles were at their peak, although Orinoco was my favourite. I asked him where Orinoco is now. Tomsk replied that he’d returned to his river in South America.
Tomsk Talks Chekhov
Tomsk asked if I knew Sibiryakov, as he brushed his body up into his bag.
I said I had met him on the road to Irkutsk, and he’d seemed a very interesting travel companion.
Tomsk said it was a shame, but Chekhov’s gun kept on being used, and many fictional characters had been killed by it over the years.
Chekhov Helps Tomsk
‘Still, I suppose it keeps me in stories, and gives my work a deeper meaning,’ added Tomsk.
I replied that it did seem to have matured a lot since its time on Wimbledon Common.
Tomsk sighed, ‘Ah, they were carefree days I look back on with fondness. I was young then, and living far away from home. Returning to my Russian city made me seek a bigger mission in life. I had collected so many pieces of paper and sweet wrappers I was ready for a new challenge. When I saw the bodies piled up around the Chekhov statue it rekindled my enthusiasm for public health and sanitation. Chekhov’s statue is alright most of the time, it’s just when it hears philosophical and literary talk that it wakes up and uses its gun.’
‘Well, I’d better be off,’ said Tomsk, ‘it was nice talking to you. I’ve been expecting you for some time; since Itold Sibiryakov about you in Tobolsk.’
Sibiryakov Tomsk Link Remembered
I remembered then that Sibiryakov had indeed told me that Tomsk had told him about me. I asked Tomsk if there was some meaning to the connection between the three of us.
‘It is the self-fulfilling philosophy of Chekhov’s Gun,’ replied Tomsk, before he shuffled away along the Tom River banks looking not unlike he had on Wimbledon Common.
Hi, it’s G.G. Howling, fiction writing correspondent at the greenYgrey inspired by highly successful writer J.K. Rowling.
The new chapter of the X Files parody begins with thoughtful information mixing the greenYgrey rebranding with Irkutsk maps and symbols, before Bert the butterfly enters the story.
After a tad too much time travelling, the episode ends with a little literary nonsense poem that rhymes A-B-A-B-A-B-A-B-A-B.
XaW Files Chapter 1 Episode 9
I felt at home looking at the Irkutsk map, as it seemed to have everything that the new rebranding of the greenYgrey has to offer, with large areas of green and grey, and a yellow Y shape in the middle.
I also liked the Irkutsk coat of arms, featuring Dauria the Siberian tiger amongst lots of old-fashioned greenygrey, but not so much that it was carrying a sable.
So I liked the greenYgrey Irkutsk Oblast district one better:
A butterfly called Bert then got in on the greenYgreying act, so I asked him if he’d seen anything of our Wolfhol.
He said there was a lot of greenygreyness around Irkutsk, but he didn’t know if any of it had been created by Andy. We looked all around the city, but couldn’t find any signs of Wolfhol, so Bert asked if we’d fancy some time-travelling.
We jumped at the chance, and were soon flying through time. However, we must have jumped too high, and found ourselves back in the early 1900s club.
It looked a lovely design,
but wasn’t really Wolfhol’s style,
I looked for an immaculate sign,
with horses waiting a while,
Sibiryakov had a glass of wine,
while Bert fluttered for a mile,
I suggested we follow the line,
down the street in single file,
and if we don’t find Wolfhol it’s fine,
at the arc we’ll take another time trial.
Hi, it’s Jack Wolfpac, legendary travel writing poet satirical comedy correspondent at the Greenygrey, inspired by Jack Kerouac. Here’s the latest post from the Greenygrey/Grey/greenYgrey’s third epic fantasy travel by Google Maps; the search for Andy Wolfhol across Eurasia.
The poem is a seven stanzas quintain rhyming ABAAB, unlike the limericks of the last episode, which rhyme AABBA.
You know, I don’t know if this has been mentioned before, but the growth of the Y in the greenYgrey rebranding could be symbolic of the boomerang social media craze that crossed from the Greenygrey world to the human during the latter stages of the Werewolf of Oz: Fantasy Travel by Google Mapsserialisation last year.
Link for Amazon book and kindle.
Realisation and Editing
Hi, it’s G.G. Howling, fiction writing correspondent at the Greenygrey inspired by J.K. Rowling. I only noticed in yesterday’s blog, when Sharapova seemed to be making a Y with her arms; one holding a grey racket; in front of a green and grey background.
I also noticed that the greenYgrey rebranding hadn’t been included over the Roger Federer photo, with it just being an old-fashioned greenygrey. This missed some of the very funny greenYgrey punchline, as there is a yellow tennis ball in the air, which can be seen as symbolic of the Y in greenYgrey. The joke had thus been reduced to just quite funny.
It has now been edited. I just wrote not instead of now there, which would have given the last paragraph a completely different meaning, and an incorrect assertion, as it has indeed been edited.
Fantasy Travel by Google Maps New Chapter
Anyway, all the above was just extra work I did while in the office last night and this morning.
I am mainly here to introduce the latest thrilling chapter of greenYgrey’s epic third fantasy travel by Google maps.
If you remember the last thrilling episode, and how could you forget it (if you read it), there was a poem that ended with gYg asleep in Penzhina Bay and dreaming it was in Magadan. Did it awake in Penzhina or Magadan, or somewhere else? All will be revealed below!
The story is really warming up, as gYg heads south in Siberia, where there is a warmer climate and big cities. Here it is:
I was two bays farther west, sheltering on the Zal Shetinga coast.
My legs and arms didn’t feel tired, but my poetry felt drained.
There didn’t seem to be much Andy Wolfhol-related action around, so I shape-shifted into a double tundra swan, and flew down over the Sea of Okhotsk to Khabarovsk.
After the beautiful but barren chilly north I thought the land was getting greener… and greyer. Green looked at me, and I looked at Green; Grey looked at me, and I looked at Grey. We exchanged a warm smile. It looked like our kind of place.
Y? Yes, Y too.
We were two.
Y made us three.
Y especially liked the trolleY
bus system; but was also made jollY
riding the tram to a boulevard called AmurskY.
Y later said it imagined a sky full of amur leopards and tigers while riding the tram.
I landed on the River Amur, after getting clearance from the amur leopards controlling air space over the tenth longest river in the world.
I took a cab to downtown Khabarovsk, and soon discovered it is a hub of art in the region: the kind of place that would surely attract our Wolfhol.
We strived all day to see signs of art reminiscent of our Andy Wolfhol. We found some.
The search was hotting up, like the weather.
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