Novel

I went to the Beehive last night.

It was a decent session.

The new guy, who I think is called Kev, was apparently talking about my stillbirth poem all of last week to anyone who would listen... which was nice. I read Dusk, which seemed to go down well.

I scribbled a few bits and pieces on the train...

behind the square lit windows
the evening settles in
kids in bed telle on
cups of tea lemonade and gin

and

how melancholy sit the leafless trees
as grey ducky sky descends

and

in the half dark ventian blinded light
she sits down at the computer to write
an email to explain put right last night

and

spartan sky lingers on the moor

Though in truth the sketching I did on the train was more on the Nazi police thing.

It's somewhat of an oddity of the internet that although it offers a world of knowledge - in theory - in practice unless you are hyper careful in your search terms, it gives you the sort of information that can be gleaned in your average pub.

For instance I wanted to find out about the structure of the German legal system. I got some information and ideas from watching a film about the trial of Adolf Hitler. The actual information required was titles, offices, and responsibilities - i.e facts.

Instead I got pages of search results offering useless information telling me the Nazis were unpleasant types, endless stuff about the racial laws, Jews and Crytsal Nacht, bits and pieces on that ranting judge, and not much that was of any use to anyone not looking to cut and paste stuff into a GCSE essay. Not that I am dismissing any of this. But it is rather like asking what the weather is like in Nebraska and being told about the massacre of the Indians, the US prison population and how unpleasant US foreign policy is. It's lacks relevance.

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The Blue Book