h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Now I was quite taken with the being on the main road to nowhere, a love affair going somewhere, a juggler called Harvey, and

also while it is easy enough to get lost here, not truely lost and generaly not overly adventurous

Tieing in the ESP, telepathy, spiritualism, coinindence, a book of poems, the vision of an astral city, I'm thinking probably need at least a couple of alternative characters

so road trip it has to be, to...

http://www.goingnowhere.org/

I actually tried to come up with characters for this

I have a young graduate couple with a 1 year old in a camper van and an hippy granny who reads tarot cards and her aged rocker boyfriend (long term) in an much loved and immaculate purple ford capri and a hitch hiker called Harvey who can juggle

anyway and I don't know how you lot do it, I am really stuffed when to comes to imagining conversations, so with even a vague plot and motivations for this trip, there is no dialogue

oh, just had a thought, what poor form nicking someones story *looks bit mortified*

it wasn't meant like that, I was just, don't know, testing myself, seeing if anything had rubbed off

and I had run out of books to read, so was occupying myself waiting for new books to arrive but yay, Jared diamond came today

Okay, now you'll have to sing it. I hope you like Hoyt Axton. Sorry, but you've got a hillbilly on the writing team, here.

Stella and Her Hubby (and Baby Luke), an astrally-minded Brightling adventure

It was Stella and her hubby and Baby Luke,
And Gran and her bf, too,
Left from Brightling in a camper van,
Headed for the Astral View.

Yeah, they rolled onto the highway where the wild thyme grows,
And the Morris Dancers bay at the moon,
Stella and her hubby and Baby Luke,
And Gran and her bf, too.

If Luke could talk, what tales he'd tell,
About Stella and his daddy and Gran, as well,
But Luke was only one,
So the tabloids will have to wait.

Up Rotherbridge way there's a chic cafe,
Where the latte's smooth as silk.
Gran read the Tarot, the bf picked guitar,
And Luke demanded milk.

Yeah, the bf sang a rockin' song
And Gran picked the Falling Tower,
Stella and her hubby found some books to read,
And Luke took a nap for an hour.

If Luke could talk, what tales he'd tell,
About Stella and his daddy and Gran, as well,
But Luke was only one,
So the tabloids will have to wait.

A Hitcher came into the little cafe,
And Harvey was his name,
He sang along to the bf's tune,
And he started his juggling game.

He juggled plates, and cups, and spoons,
He juggled sugar cubes,
He made flying saucers, called 'em UFOs,
And he sure impressed the rubes.*

If Luke could talk, what tales he'd tell,
About Stella and his daddy and Gran, as well,
But Luke was only one,
So the tabloids will have to wait.

So Stella and her hubby said, 'Harvey, man,
Would you like to take this act on the road?
We're on our way to the Astral View,
And we think you'd help lighten the load.'

Harvey winked at Luke and said, 'Why, sure, Stella,dear,'
I'd love to take a trip in your van,
I'd a vision about the other night,
And I'm thinking we've got us a plan.'

If Luke could talk, what tales he'd tell,
About Stella and his daddy and Gran, as well,
But Luke was only one,
So the tabloids will have to wait.

So all of them piled into the camper van,
And Harvey piled in, too,
The bf held Luke, and Harvey helped Gran
Do a reading on the Astral View.

And off they went, past the Burwash Loop,
But they didn't hit any bikes,
And if you find them Facebook, well,
They've got about ten thousand 'Likes'.

If Luke could talk, what tales he'd tell,
About Stella and his daddy and Gran, as well,
But Luke was only one,
So the tabloids will have to wait.

*Mostly tourists from the US.

Tune: 'Della and the Dealer'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVyzQY8W--g

I'm always nicking cactuscafe's ideas. They're more interesting than mine.

I love the idea of the hippy granny and her rocker boyfriend. I can almost see him - grey hair caught into a pony tail, paunch protruding from his leather jacket.

As for dialogue - get a notebook and write down bits of overheard conversation.

Dmitri got there first!

And very good too.

Glad you liked it, MVP.

The good thing about CC's ideas, and MVP's, too, is that everybody can do different versions.

Remember the grasshopper idea? We got at least four stories out of that one, all in the Post. A75157996

oh Dmitri

I am both and

as for stories that Luke could tell probably best that he can't talk yet and no-one facebooked Nana and Grandpa coming up from behind, (while his parents held his hands and jumped him over waves in the shallows) and proceeded to streak past them into the ocean, laughing their socks off (if they had any on)

I can see this.

Hey, CC! (And everybody else.) You have to see this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mf5otGNbkuc

Hoovooloo posted this in Ask as part of a discussion on colour. But if you watch to about 14:00, you'll hear a piece of music made from a child's drawing. Sort of a synthaesthesia moment.

Ah yes! the Grasshoppers! I loved the Grasshoppers!

HolyRoses!! This is incredible!!! You creative folks, you! Now I'll have to catch up!

I think I am a poppy. .

Yes, I think I am a poppy, with a seed husk, like I explode with dream-seeds, then sometimes I forget what I typed, , and I lose my dream-seeds.

Luckily though, with friends like you guys, you turn them into something lovely, you reinterpret them, however you are inspiring me to write ...

(heads out to find dream-seeds)







I love the look of the Nowhere Festival, Peanut, I never heard of it before, it's like Burning Man Festival, in Nevada. That Nowhere site itself is so orange and warm and Spanish sun. mmmm, to melt the snow!

Although its not snowing here, yet.

Wowzum, you guys, you have the power, you have the hour, you are the flower , you have the inspiration upon you.

That's amazing, Mister Ed, I've been singing it shakes me, breaks me takes me, aches me.

And these ideas, these images! I must return after to check these postings.

I feel like I am at a magic bus station, we're on a journey.

There's a word for the scattering of seeds, when a plant pod explodes, its .. its ... dehiscing ...I think ..

No point in dehiscing, if the dream-seeds go missing. . I just said that 'cos it rhymes.

Hi Everyone! Dmitri, thanks for that video on colour illusions! I recently bought myself a book about visual illusions, and Lotto's cube illusion is in it. But I know about this kind of illusion because as an artist I have to know how colours are perceived and how their perceptions influence each other. There is much more that can be said than what is said in that video!

I'll just bet there is, too, Willem.

Morning all!

It's snowing now. We were supposed to be heading up country tomorrow, to somewhere near the Burwash Loop in fact. Ah! cancelled for a few days, so I will now have more time to travel here ... uh oh ...

I realised many things last night, although I have yet to remember who is Harvey the Juggler. .

(I inadvertently wrote fragments of my life journey it that posting there, it seems ).

You guys are amazing, you inspire creativity. Thankyou for keeping me inspired. I'm well away now, dream seeds flying everywhere.... , I am happeeeeee!

Notes on Dream Seeds

So I awoke in the half light, early this morning, convinced I was in the Astral View motel, although I was unable to say where exactly I was, geographically speaking.

Last night I was inspired by some lyrics written by a friend of mine, which, mixed with Spanish brandy, seemed somehow logical, and I tell myself that perhaps the Astral View Motel is somewhere near Brightling,Sussex.

Even better! I say to myself. I am due to travel to this part of the world, tomorrow in fact. I must have been somehow transported here, without noticing.

At least it will save all that stress, especially as there's a snow warning, and the roads might not even be passable.

I part the beige and royal blue striped curtains, and peer out into the half light. I see thousands of white angel star shapes sparkling in the sky. So that's why it's called Astral View! Perhaps I am travelling in space! Then I realise they are snowflakes.

I decided to go back to sleep, confused, yet content, wondering if the Astral View Motel would later serve me some breakfast. .





Notes On Dream Seeds Part 2

This is the story of a journey.

This is the story of a journey as experienced by a singer named Gray, who fell into a reverie on a tour bus whilst travelling through the night with his band.

His bandmates say he was quiet and dreamy for an entire twenty minutes, missing out on a seriously out-of-tune-jam session. They were worried about him.

Gray meanwhile was on another journey entirely ...



And ....



Damn. Have to go to town to buy spuds and kale. . Does hunger always interrupt the poet? . Who is Gray? Do we really need kale? Winter greens from Porlock. . I will return .....

Here are some superpictures of your snowflake angels close up:


http://news.yahoo.com/photos/incredible-close-up-view-of-snowflakes-slideshow/snowflakes-photo-1345479761.html

Enjoy your day. Be careful shopping. It must be tough to bicycle on ice.

It snowed here, too, last night, and the wind howled and blew one door open and one shut. Today the world is sunny and chill, and the landscape is frosted.

The only poet I know named Gray wrote a a lot of Stuff that definitely belongs in the AWW. Mostly, it makes no sense:

'On Thracia's hills the Lord of War
Has curbed the fury of his car,
And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command.'

Now, lacking context, I would say to this poet:

1. Don't try to drive in Thraki. The roads are all bad, and winding, and the natives are maniacs. Take the bus. You'll have to listen to Greek pop songs all the way to Komotini, but it'll be worth it.

2. Chill. Poetry and politics do not mix if you don't know what you're talking about. Read the Huff Post first, or Mother Jones.

You're going to Brightling? Oh, please, please, take some photos for me...mecca of my soul, Brightling......I might even write some Gray-like poetry if you do that...or use your photo in a G'plex......

In the meantime, that Gray poet haunteth me...he will haunt me all day, will Gray. There is no sign that he belonged to a rock band.

He should have belonged to a rock band.

For if he had, they could have set his lyrics to rock music, which would have improved them.

Lines like:

'Her conscious tail her joy declared...'

Read the whole poem here. I dare you:

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-the-death-of-a-favourite-cat-drowned-in-a-tub/

Oh - daydreamers and night dreamers: I found something interesting:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/beautiful-minds/200903/are-people-schizophrenia-living-dream

All the dreaming reports inspired me to do a little reading, and I found that article by a psychologist. I found his opening dream with the turtles fun, thought you might like it.

'Quite frequently, when I try to be creative during the day I have difficulty getting into the same frame of mind as my dreams: uninhibited, spontaneous, and rich in imagery that are really, really vivid. It's as if my consciously controlled "reality-self" is getting in the way of my automatic "fantasy-self". Sometimes I really do want the reality-self to just go away!'

that I can identify with...

Back tracking a few posts, mvp,I can see what you mean about notebooks, I thought of a conversation quite late night, didn't write it down and can't remember it now, not even who had it

also the listening other people, sounds like a good excuse to go to Glastonbury with a notebook and claim that it is research

Evening all, you buzzing creatives! Let me buzz to the buzz of your buzz.

Another crop of beautiful gifts. You are the gift bearers. I will share with you my pineapple chunks, which I am currently devouring. Here (offers up fruit salad to laptop).

Incredible snowflake close ups!!! And no two snowflakes are alike. Ever. Like us, then.

We are stardust, we are snowflakes

Well, we were heading for Brighton, and I was supposed to be doing business in Battle, (I sound like a General of old, to Battle, troops!) which is quite near Brightling, but I'm not sure if its happening now.

One day I will make a point of getting some Brightling photos, preferably with the discs hovering overhead, I promise. . Now there's a promise. The bit about Brightling. Not sure if I can arrange the discs, unless we throw a luminous frisbee. .



, Right. Thomas Gray. I love the poem about the cat and the tub of goldfish. I read it all. I think it's one of my favourite poems. . I shall recite it to passing strangers. Good moral at the end, not all that glisters, gold. Hah! Beware of goldfish! Yes! Yes! I shall tell the passing strangers to be very wary of goldfish.

I'm a bluefish, not a goldfish, said the bluefish, and I don't glister, I just get the blues

Perhaps Gray, my rockstar Gray, has this name because some people think his lyrics are a bit dodgy, like the poet Thomas Gray. . I don't know who he is. He just came to me. I wonder what he'll tell me.



Fascinating article, thanks!, and consequent thoughts on the reality self, and the fantasy self. Very interesting ...

Back in a minute ...

I imagine Battle. I often see it on the maps, when I'm looking at Brightling. I'd like to see some CC photos of Battle. And the pyramid, and other Mad Jack Fuller wonders. And the Fuller's Arms, does it still have a pub sign? And...