A Chance Meeting

Today, I was bitten on the arm. In my line of work, this isn’t wholly unusual but I’m more accustomed to getting spat in the face. Suffice to say, this affected my fickle human mood.


I came home, a bag of warm water wrapped with masking tape around the arm. It could have once been considered an ice pack, but the laws of energy diffusion ultimately got their way. When unwrapped, a scarlet swelling surrounded by fewer hairs than usual, had been uncovered. I winced readily if so much as a breeze raked itself against the patch of flesh so recently chewed.


It was around 19°c and partly cloudy outside, giving Londoners the rare opportunity to wind down their car roofs, hem their jeans and struggle against the diligent wind to turn the pages of their books in the park. I’m not excused from this behaviour. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and having a sky resemble a perpetually untouched sheet of paper makes a human appreciate any semblance of colour that threads its way through. I was the one in the park with the book. I also had a girlfriend with me. Despite this. the real highlight of my day came unexpectedly, holding a Kinder Egg capsule caked in mud.


While the need to book a holiday here may be overwhelming, it should be understood that there is an apparent lack of hotels in this area.

I have always considered children a lot more emotionally intelligent than adult humans. Our acceptance of our ignorance and vulnerability tends to dissipate as we claim to gain more experience with age. This girl didn’t give a shit.


“What are you doing?”


Just chilling. But that surely wouldn’t be comprehensible to this inquisitive young girl. Contemplative silence sufficed.


“Are you chilling out?”

“Exactly. That’s exactly what we’re doing.”


Damn. We had both underestimated her, with the same line of thinking. She showed us a small plastic hoop she had discovered on the ground and asked us what it was. We were adults, we should know.


“I don’t know. What do you think it is?”


She didn’t know but embraced it.


“Maybe it’s a bracelet for a…”


I didn’t catch the end but assured her it was too small to be a bracelet.


“For a doll.”


Oh. Well…fair enough, I could see that. I had persisted in underestimating her to my embarrassment.

She told us about her little sister.


“Do you have kids?”


“Why not?”

“Umm…we’re too young for kids right now.”


A terribly poor answer to the question posed. We were physically capable of having children. It was not our youth but our lack of finances and readiness that prevented us from having children.


“Are you married?”

“We’re not.”

“Are you friends?”


“Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?”



She smiled. And why shouldn’t she? She found out what she wanted to without navigating around the question or attempting to follow up the question in order to force a sense of flow. She had found her answer and that was that.


When she left again, we attempted to build a daisy chain for her but, much to our joy, she interrupted us. She asked what we were doing so we did our best to explain the concept of a daisy chain.


On the first try, she slipped the stem through another stem which she had adroitly poked a hole through with her nail, as we advised. She ended up completing the chain or, as she more accurately called it, a daisy square or a daisy L.


Her babysitter called her. The girl asked if we would be here tomorrow.


“Maybe”, we vehemently hoped.


“Look at me, I’m profound”

I started off drawing a round shape, which turned into a nose and somehow, I ended up drawing this.


I’m unsure what it is and am still waiting for someone to clarify to me what it means. My girlfriend said it’s about society. Neither of us were sure why it was.

But we understood that it’s sometimes necessary in art to tack on meaning just so it doesn’t seem pointless, even if the meaning is convoluted, poorly thought through, and pink.

Cybernetic Dehancements

This is how we’re all going to look in the future. All of us: men, women, children and animals. Take note of the melancholy expression.

A tube from the lower back of our head will feed into the top where it’ll end suddenly. Like the ear and mouth, this has no purpose and serves as a purely aesthetic addition.

The Throwaway Chapter

You might be surprised to find out that the New Testament is a sequel to the Old Testament, an older book. You might also be surprised to know it comes from the Hebrew Bible – the Tanakh – which also contains the Torah.

Although it gets ridiculously complicated, the Old Testament is thought, by scholars, to have been written throughout centuries by hundreds of authors. Essentially becoming an anthology of stories passed through the minds (and perhaps overactive imaginations) of thousands of individuals across human history up until that point. These stories were selected and compiled in different ways in the Tanakh, and the multiple versions of the Bible, in order to promote their respective beliefs.

Who knows the multitude of Gods generations of authors were referring to before they were blanketed under one religion? I don’t and this is becoming increasingly convoluted and complex. To save from making wild assumptions to fit my theory, I’m going to leave this be for now. You’re welcome.

Previous Chapter – Jesus, Probably a Human

Opposite of Alienation

As usual, do not try to make too much sense of this. I was trying to make something that was easy to draw and looked cool. And it was easy to draw…



The stump of a left arm hasn’t been amputated. Actually, Dorothy is a bit of a shapeshifter and he didn’t really need that arm for the time being.


His brain is exposed because he’d be ostracised on his home planet if it wasn’t, even though he was lucky enough to be born without that part of his skull. It does mean that his intelligence takes a substantial hit but that’s the price to be paid for societal acceptance.


His third eye can only see Yorkshire terriers. Unfortunately, Dorothy has never been to Earth so it hasn’t proved very useful.


Don’t mention his thighs. I know he can change them, but still don’t’ mention them.

pleaseJOIN MEplease


Sometimes I might feel a bit lazy and you’ll get something like this. I started off drawing a chubby nun but the face became a lot weirder than I expected so I brought the rest of the head to the same level of dementedness.


In the end, it made me feel better about myself and my stresses because I thought, “If that can still smile in that condition then why can’t I?”.


Then I remembered it was only a drawing. A terrible, increasingly haunting drawing.

Please Join Me Please
Please don’t try to make sense of It.

Jesus, Probably a Human

Actually, it brings us to the anonymous people who wrote about Jesus. Even without reading it, I hope, we can draw one conclusion just by knowing what the Bible is. We know that the authors liked Jesus. A lot. They thought he was the best. There we have the basis of the idea that the life and beliefs of Jesus are a Socratic problem.


Jesus was undoubtedly a revolutionary figure and one that inspired idealisation and fascination in new concepts. The claims of miracles might just be embellishments through a sort of Chinese whispers, or maybe they’re metaphors for the actions that demonstrated his miraculously caring nature. Did Jesus really heal the sick? Could it be that he just, instead, showed the poor and sick an unprecedented level of kindness and love? Did he walk on water? Or did he just simply walk the path that no other man could? If you never believed those miracles anyway, this will won’t be a revelation. But we can question more about the accounts of Jesus with the Socratic Problem in mind.


Like if Plato felt compelled to use Socrates as a vehicle for his own musings, how can we be sure that these writers didn’t do something similar? By adding their complimentary ideas to the stories and philosophies of Jesus, they have potentially rewritten history so that it was their message that was preached by the incredibly well-loved but previously undocumented leader. Even believers may concede that their holy message has, at some point in its history, been altered to fit the purpose of the scribe or preacher. If this is the case, how do we know where Jesus’ thoughts end and the authors’ begin?


To recap, the idea is:

Jesus lived. Jesus talked. Jesus influenced. Jesus died. Time passed.


People talked.

People talked.

People talked.

Just like Plato on Socrates, a few thinkers built on Jesus’ ideals. They wrote the New Testament using Jesus as their mouthpiece. They painted Jesus as a great man. An ideal person. A divine being. This provided a perfectly respectable example for how Christians should behave and act. A perfect example of how their philosophy should be implemented.


Previous Chapter – The Socratic Problem      Next Chapter – The Throwaway Chapter


The Socratic Problem

I’m not suggesting that Jesus and Socrates were the same person even if they did both have beards and wore sandals (compelling evidence, I know). Instead, let’s consider how both were remembered through what was written about them after their deaths.


Socrates’ ideas survived through dialogues predominantly written by Plato, but also explored by Xenophon and Aristotle while the image of Jesus as a divine, selfless messiah was painted through the gospels of the New Testament, whose authorship are widely believed to be unknown. There we have our vital information: both men’s lives were recounted after their death by friends, or friends of friends.


Plato was known to insert his own philosophies through his writing about Socrates, making it difficult to differentiate between the ideals of the two. Not only this, but we know that those who wrote about Socrates idealised him. They thought he was the best. And so we have the Socratic Problem; what information that we have about Socrates is really true? Did he reject payment for instilling his knowledge? Did he really calmly lecture his students about the nature of death before he sipped the poison he was condemned to drink? Because that’s fucking boss.


This brings us to Jesus.


Previous Chapter – Beard and Sandals      Next Chapter – Jesus, Probably a Human

The Overview Effect

Staring into space,

You begin to levitate,

As you start to lose perception of your body’s weight.

And you don’t question

The transcendent sensation,

For the first time free from planetary rotation

You’re so high now, but it’s not too hard to breathe.

As neurones fire tantamount to supernova energy.

Exploding into sight,

Dancing flairs from sunlight ignite bright white

Before uniting with the infinite night

You blink your eyes, keeping vigilante as you smile.

One hundred million miles

You see, you move much faster than you think.

The solar system now shrinks into a glint.

Worlds recede to pinholes in black sheets

The awe the giants once inspired start to deplete

Now everything around you begins to surpass light speed, with the absence of a breeze

Moons and comets and planets and nebulas all distort into a thousand streaks

You shut your eyes away from the pulsing sky,

To open your mind and within seconds you find

Everything has slowed down; you’re in a new zone now

You hyperdrove into overdrive,

You override the limits of your cortex enveloping your mind

The observable universe has fallen far behind.

Your body warms to a meteor shower of shivers

Your thoughts flicker at the incomprehensible picture

No breath to take, no sound escapes

As your open mouth dislocates further agape

Now what’s revealed before you

Translucent coral scintillations illuminate against

Formless blue auras scorn the beauty that humans create

Vast clouds discovered comprised of subtle colours

Golds golder than any rock in our history uncovered

Imbued vividly in this conscious bellow of smoke

Tremendous in its’ innate and natural palette and scope

A manifestation of hope,

A hope the man infestation does not corrupt this cosmic throne

But while you’re absorbed in this enormous portrait,

A force of astronomical proportions tugs you toward it

A vacuous sphere with rings of curving light in orbit

You acquiesce and forfeit, for it’s a black hole

And you wonder why it took you alone

Light years from your uninhabitable home

To unequivocally conclude the futility of human pursuit

Of anything we secluded brutes can compute

And ponder the necessity of embracing capacities of sympathy

To see you reap inner peace by needing others happy.

In comfort, you stretch towards the supermassive singularity

You see eternity warp into a vast plate,

Your lungs extricate a silent serenade

As you being’s atoms separate from all of time and space.                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Drifting through space,

Problems evanesce when you’re face to face,

With the face of the planet, home to the ungrateful race

When liquid gold reservoirs and emerald planes fade to grey

Landfills made to maintain waste.

Free from the invisible pull of the world,

From here the scars we call borders are no more visible.

No line to show the soil our ancestors sequestered

And lands made redder to house rich and street beggars.

Why divide that which left cists to exist?

That blessed us with this paradisiacal bliss,

That you wished for ever since churches insisted

We deserved reward from a so-called merciful lord.

Rolling green pastures and blue skies adorned,

With oxygen rich air and no concern for

War, debts, cash, tax and politician’s pacts

With more freedom than you can shake a handful of cash at.

Free from laws obstructing you from perceived flaws

We can’t smoke draw, but our kids are allowed to go to war.

So how many of our problems are a result of the earth we scorn?

Umm, a vortex of air, distant virus scares, a diligent sun stripping their whole year’s work bare.

Their”, the key word there, most of us have more real dangers we cannot begin to compare

Like those who cause us strain, just so they can make it rain

Or spewing scorching magma to maintain panic and pain

Minorities’ gain is sum of majorities’ loss

Ripping through earth’s crust, to accommodate financial lust

Children starve and wither away, while those with aid

Would rather wait for their vintage champagne to age

Killing animals for the thrill of the hunt, all in spineless fun

When faced with the barrel of a gun, we’ll see how fast you can run.

As you turn your back, your thoughts remain tainted bitter

A fraction of a pale blue dot is still mankind’s biggest picture.