Journey to the Heart of Cliché

I took a trip on the S.S. Essess to the Heart of Cliché. My heart was pounding as the waves crashed against the ship. It was a stormy day and my soul ached to uncover the truth. I felt a longing deep down inside and suddenly realised I was looking at the world as if for the first time.

My guide for the Heart of Cliché was a tall, pock-marked man with wild eyes. He lead me down a dark, airless alley. My heart beat fast in my chest. I hoped at last I would shake this curse of cliché. Time was running out. This was my last chance. At the end of the day, when all was said and done, I needed a change in my life, and yearned for freedom.

I entered the Heart of Cliché. He spoke:

“Visitor! You have travelled far and wide to be with me. You heart aches to be free from this slavery. There is a fire burning inside you. We all know that a stitch in time saves nine and that many hands make light work and that too many cooks spoil the broth and that we can’t see the wood for the trees and that beauty is only skin deep and that . . . ”

“Stop!” I shouted.

“ . . . we shouldn’t beat about the bush or let the cat out of the bag and you should keep your nose to the grindstone and it isn’t over until the fat lady sings and we can kill two birds with one stone and there are plenty more fish in the sea . . . ”

“I can’t take it!” I said, and ran off.

I ran and ran until my legs ached. Then I thought better of it, and I ran until the tendons in my calf region experienced a pulsating throb. Tomorrow would be a better day. Or, at least, tomorrow would be day of marked luminescent improvement over today. This would need some work.

The Excavation of Lucy Ellmann

List of book reviews and articles from over a decade for those seeking an extra Ellmann fix. You’re welcome. All links are to book reviews unless indicated or obvious.

The Guardian:

Your Presence is Requested at Suvanto (2010)
Revenge of the Mooncake Vixen (2010)
Smile or Die (2010)
Wetlands (2009)
Muse (2008)
Manual (2008)
The Naked Man (2008)
Clean: An Unsanitised History of Washing (2008)
Little Constructions (2007)
When to Walk (2007)
The Big Fat Bitch Book (2007)
Gargantua & Pantagruel (2006)
Greed (2006)
Lost Hearts in Italy (2006)
The Book of Fathers (2006)
Adverbs (2006)
The Dream Life of Sukhanov (2006)
Tête-à-tête: The Lives and Loves of Simone De Beauvior & Jean-Paul Sartre (2006)
Big Bosoms & Square Jaws: The Biography of Russ Meyer (2005)
A Changed Man (2005)
Truth & Consequences (2005)
Come Thou Tortoise (2004)
Millennium Baby Blues (1999, article)
Gym Modified bods (1999, article)
My PET hates (1999, article)
Liberty, equality and CARNALITY (1999, article)
The age of reason: Bra humbug (1999, article)

NY Times:

Snuff (2008)
Arlington Park (2007)
Depths (2007)
American Genius (2006)
The Thin Place (2006)
My Father is a Book (2006)
The Pagoda in the Garden (2005)
The Letters of Lytton Strachey (2005)

The Independent:

Well-Remembered Friends (2004)
Why can’t women be more like men and enjoy failing (1997, article)
Family hell and a voice from heaven (1996, TV review)
This tiresome search for a lesson in everything (1996, article)
Better to be born an elephant (1996, TV review)
Dennis the ancient menace (1996, TV review)
Multicoloured salads and other disturbances (1996, article)
I have a civic duty to be happy (1996, article)
Violent society? I blame those cannelloni recipes (1996, article)
Sam Spade takes up economics for Britain (1996, TV review)
Good morning with Anne and Liz . . . Di, Chas and Eddie (1996, TV review)
Tony and I are deeply concerned about the poor poverty (1996, article)
If music be the food of love, I want to know why (1996, TV review)
When did you last learn something from a tennis commentator? (1996, TV review)
The mystery is: why do we go on watching? (1996. TV review)
Queen of the screen (1995, TV review)
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so (1995, TV review)
Laugh? I nearly did (1995, TV Review)
Mad cows and Englishmen (1995, TV Review)
Read it here: the thriller you won’t want to pick up (1995, article)
Dear Malcolm, How do you do? Super, I hope (1995, article)
Keep young and beautiful if you want to be read (1995, article)
In a perfect world we would do without it (1993, article)

I found a few morsels on the Washington Post and TLS websites, but these bastards charge to read archived work. That’s enough (for me) at the present moment, I should think.

How to Get Off the Floor

1. Left hand on the carpet, right hand on the chair. Push downwards and lift body upwards. Use legs to stand upright.

2. Repeat “things will be OK” four hundred times.

3. Eat a chocolate cake and think back to a time you were happy.

4. Use an internet dating site and arrange to meet someone worse off than yourself.

5. Ignore all TV, radio, newspapers, online news sites. Leave shops when current affairs are discussed.

6. Cry daily.

7. Become close to someone vulnerable. Attempt a “relationship” but don’t show too much interest.

8. Remember that life is an absurd prank played by a teenage God. Nothing anyone does matters anywhere to anyone.

9. Have intercourse. Borrow money.

10. Stay in bed as much as possible. Read many books.

Happiness is a rare commodity. To space tourists, Earth is sagging old man with goitre. Get over it.

The Gyppicus

Design name: The Gypiccus

Primary Function: Species Evolution/Preservation

Function(s):

At the centre of this creature is the gestation pad, where all manner of organisms can regenerate away from nature. These include rare species of kangaroo, badger, heifer or meerkat. It is possible to crossbreed species and store the results in the gestation pad, then dispose of the creature using the advanced spring technology to crush it to death. If successful, the species should breed in nature to help speed up animal evolution.

It is imperative that each Gyppicus goes undetected in nature, for these experiments are “illegal” according to law. Its stealth allows it to pose as a large mushroom. The skin of each hump contains a mild acid with a strong ordure scent to keep creatures at a safe distance.

Advanced spring technology allows the creature to hop away when compromised. Lions or bears often attack the Gypiccus and springs allow each model to attain heights of twelve feet or more, depending on the softness of terrain and winds. Barbed wire neck and knife-sharp ears also give an extra defence in occasions of combat.

The drinks dispenser is for biologists working with the creature in the wild who are thirsty. Choices available: 7-Up, Mountain Dew, Cherry Coke. (Some African models have a teamaker).

Price: $4,830-$10,000

Web: Gypiccus.net

Namby-Pambyism

I am often accused of a lack of resolve, which is fair enough, since resolve hasn’t been required in the Nicholls clan since the reign of James III.

The latest accusation got me thinking on functions I could perform in the next World War. The conflict will be one of autosuggestion: armies invading nations and then ascribing the whole thing to Philip Scofield. Or that pugnacious gawm Danny Baker. There should, for those with no transferable skills at all, be a namby-pamby regiment.

Our reg will specialise in having nervous breakdowns and killing four thousand men in one concentrated attack, writing novels from our safehouses about how awful things have become, and having counselling sessions. War isn’t easy for the neurotic. You have a major breakthrough in counselling and then someone blows up your dog. How long’s that going to take?

We’ll use our violin bows as stabbing weapons. We’ll hide inside bomb-proof sofas. We’ll act nonchalant throughout the whole war and pretend nothing interesting is happening. Yup.

I want to design the British Army’s new uniforms. There’s not enough fuchsia in those combats.

Roy Walker: Filthy Sex Beast

In my latest book, Roy Walker: Filthy Sex Beast, I expose the former Catchphrase host’s trail of affairs and sexual perversions.

Since the inception of Catchphrase, Roy has made it compulsory for the winner to sleep with him after every show. “Big or small, young or old, man or goat . . . send ‘em to me,” he was once caught saying on camera. It was in the contract of each winner to take a vow of silence and pleasure Mr. Walker until he was satisfied. One contestant says: “It would often take four hours, five tubs of lube, and six crew guys to get him off.”

My book delves deep into the sordid details of his sex life. The three-ways with Jim Bowen and Leslie Joseph. The all-night orgies in Bournemouth Travelodge (in a suite now named Walker on the Wild Side). The attempted publication of his book Suck What You See: The Secret Life of Game Show Host. Inserting his penis into the ears of audience members. His attempted rape of Mr Chips, the virtual catchphrase mime. All this and more!

The story of Roy Walker is an R-rated romp through the darker side of afternoon quiz shows. Available from Oct 12.

Rutland Bewks, £19.99

Psychopathological Investigation

If you’ve ever wondered why you turned out such a weird and wacky dude, it helps to think of your friends in early childhood. Me:

“Phil”: My first friend. Ate worms.

“Phil”: Second friend. Owned lizards and bats. Chopped up worms. Never washed.

“Phil”: Third friend. Waved at passing cars. Pooped in his pants as a matter of course. Stank of dogs.

“Phil”: Fourth friend. Video game addict. Pretended to be a squeaky-voiced worm with me (I had a thing about worms). Accomplice on ride into teenage oblivion.

Adolescence is a custard pie machine, endlessly whomping trifles face-wards while a clown pours cream down one’s trousers. Freaks look on laughing while children jeer and point. There’s no point laughing through the terror, because terror isn’t remotely funny.

I’ve always had odd friends. I attract the unhinged. Friendships are a nightmare to maintain. At some point, your interests diverge, and it’s sayonara, see you later on Facebook, maybe. I’ve reached a point where if someone wants to be my friend, they must commit to the following:

a) Reading a list of my strengths and weaknesses and agreeing to accept every one, no complaints.
b) To make the effort to engage with me in some way. Invite me to things and coax me into talk.
c) To shut up and stop talking about themselves and their interests and their boring lives.
d) To remember that mankind is fundamentally evil and join with me in a Prayer of Despair.

All together now:

O Lord, who aren’t in heaven
nor Waitrose nor Tescos
we are but lumps of flesh
held together with guts
and we ask you
as useless dreamers
to take our screams
and build a Church
from our Pain
and charge £12.50 a ticket
for admission.

Amen.