Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Tara, Goddess of the stars

SYNODEITIES: Ishtar (Babylonian), Terra, Earth Mother (Roman), Tara Mother Goddess (Druid), Tar Woman of Wisdom (Finland), Tarahumara ( Aztec).

I was once welcomed into a home in Kathmandu, Nepal.

The guy who invited me to his parents house had a cousin

or a sister there whose name was Tara.

They told me her name means 'star'.

She was very beautiful.

Sunday, November 28, 2004

that hospital that library

it's a ward of peace,

three cuts on the abdomen,

3 pound fifty for the tv,

nurses tested you round the clock,

you got full love service,

for free,

god bless the en aitch mess,

you sure brush up good,

when the spotlight gives you a rest


started today in the library,

took the reigns of the mystery,



pay the fine,

or defer it to next time,

relax its not a crime,

plenty tea breaks,

were offered me,

shuffling books in a public gallery

is there a bladdy computer free?,

chill round the corner and wait you'll see,

kids got their story books,

old arabs and afros mumbling politics,

on the newspaper table,

I got to get the code right,

colours and alphabets,

shelve it smile,

can I volunteer to help the grannies?,

sure saffa babe,

just take this leaflet.


we played scrabble,

Zit was used twice,

and seth lost because

he didn't know

axe can be ax

I'll rig it so I win

The pig will race against the duck.


Friday, November 26, 2004

juggling things

sister in hospital,

saw my ex-girlfriend yesterday,

new job on saturday,

helping someone move house on sunday,

aunty visiting from abroad,

arranging a first date with someone,

its no wonder I am getting a cold.

my emotions are all over the place.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

wait a minute mr postman

pleeeeeeze mr postman>>>>

okay its the midweek slump

slump, bump and thats right


fidget, yawn, stretch and

you got it

along comes another dawn

fair to middling

mild to frost

creeping death to barely alive

we must strive to get thru

the surging weight of wasted time

but believe in tomorrow

her shining eyes

are ready to guide

our piece of meat

t'wards the glittering prize

yes she'll come and

follow her I will

get the blood and brain

pumping wave the lump

about in the air

talk and snort and run and plop

and help and ask and laugh

and we're made up again

life gets tricky without structure

without those yellow walls

that shine like silver

duh! well, er...

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

how to win the national lottery





Today we discuss the importance of open minded mayhem. Live dont die.

A blade of grass today is tomorrow's dog stool.

Remember the insignificance of time.

Beware the absurd magnetism of space.

I defy you to utter your language without prejudice.

We are all visitors here.

That is why the mayhem exists. No exit until now!!!

We are like telegraph poles after a storm.
Reconnection is not spontaneous.

Travel the spaceways and feel the electric love vibes.
Give and receive.

We are all brothers and sisters.

The trellick tower of joy can be yours.

Find in yourself that awareness. Its waiting for you.

As are your opened siblings.

Terminate hate. Do it live it squeeze it breathe it.

The intelligence of the blank horizon.

Then we have to touch our visions and believe.

Dont remember and think. Just know and act.

Or ignore this message, because when it comes from within yourself, it is then that you will believe.

Message number two will come shortly.

Over and out to all you glowing deities in the surround.

hanging coats for KT Tunstall punters

I ocassionally work at the barfly in camden

as cloakroom attendant for the gigs that are held there.

It means I can catch up with my good friend and

see some up and coming bands.

Tonight I saw a couple of songs sung by

KT Tunstall, female singer songwriter from Scotland.

Completely sold out after an appearance on the

Jools Holland TV show,

we could have a star in the making on our hands.

I had never heard of her before

so I was keen to see what all the fuss was about.

She definitely has a solid collection of songs,

she is a confident performer with nice natural and quirky

intersong banter. As someone said on her website

its inoffensive music. Nevertheless it is appealing uplifting gutsy stuff.

It has a few suprising flavours; for example the melodies tend to have little unexpected flourishes tacked on so you don't feel too much like you've "heard it all before."

After the crowd's enthusiastic reception I reckon the sky's the limit for oor KT.

I wanted to get her to sign a flyer

with "I love reading childwithoutaneye"

but I never have the cojones for that kind of thing.

Anyway the lass doesn't need any more geeks floatin' about.

Not someone whose album I will probably buy,

but I am sure I'll be hearing alot of it over the coming year.

KT could be marketed as 'Norah Jones with balls' though

I'm sure she'd have my baws for even thinking that.

Monday, November 22, 2004

rare ween album

This has to be the rarest Ween album ever. I am still trying to track down a copy.

weird blog spam phenomenon

From my blogger bar I randomly clicked and

found these two similar looking blogs that

apparently contain just lists and lists of

pages that seem to have been lifted from a

search engine page.

One concerns acne and the other perfume.

All the posts have been posted today.

I wonder what is going on here.

Some kind of experiment?

Do any of you blogging aficionados have the answer?

pure mechanics

This is a document celebrating the pure mechanical road to freedom . the dalek sea, the burnished ring piece.

The heavenly dood aaaa

And the blessings never to shudder and escape the hunger in our thyme,


And also the frogmarching is attentive, ears pricking.

So gather the tortrue equpiyment and slither the key picking gentry so proud and devilish cutthroat pirates eyes patched up in a Jolly roger fashion like captain picard down the loony bin at last.

Starving and cold and unhappy and still hungry and ill and in pain and crying and smelling and dirty and scared and vacant and aching and not sleeping and not dreaming and hating the fear.

But that’s ok for them.

They are not on our pure mechanical road to freedom.

He he he heehhh oooouuuchhh coooros junglastorbrentishmanklovatish.

Sunday, November 21, 2004

the house party

I spoke to a Spanish guy from the Basque Country.

He had been in London since June and was really

enjoying being here. His only gripe was that

our seafood was too expensive and not as fresh as

back home. In Spain I have come across many

people who eat much more fish than they do meat.

Another couple of people I spoke to

were two delightful sisters from Turkey.

Aged 18 and 21 and with a gentle open demeanor.

They've spent the last ten years in Denmark.

They are fluent in Danish and Turkish and were here for

four months to improve their English.

I discovered they like pop and r'n'b.

Their favourite part of London is

the new pedestrian bridge which joins the Tate Modern museum

on the south bank to St Paul's cathedral on the north.

After a sunday roast lunch today, with wine,

plus the previous two nights of boozing

I was feeling all cosy on the train home

wrapped up in a delicious sleepy bubble.

Listening to Juana Molina on the walkman

complemented my state of mind and body.

Saturday, November 20, 2004

younger than yesterday

so last night what was that all about?

started off with red wine and a frozen pizza

then I hit the university bar where

one can indulge in some green

surrounded by my friend and his

phd theses writing friends

one of whom is from India and

has the most incredible way of

speaking English. Every sentence he speaks is grammatically

correct and perfectly pronounced.

the most incredible thing is that he

never fills pauses with words like

"um" "er" "ah"

anyhow aside from that I started

a running joke with the women present

after reading Arnold Exposed a web page

dedicated to defaming Arnold Shwarzenegger.

when caught in the act of oral pleasure

with a woman who was not his wife Arnie's excuse was

that "Eating isn't Cheating"

So the base humour slogan for the night

was up and running.

later after a curry and boring chats about

Chomsky, Stuart Hall and someone called Kav

we split from the phders and headed for

more boozy climbs in Camden Town

nipped into a Spanish bar which opens late

there one of my friends described a time

when he was a boy and his mum asked him to carry

out the following experiment for a day

he was to stop himself from using the words

"I", "me", and "mine".

Its a very difficult thing to do.

it is said that if you do it for a week your

you enter a state of awareness that is

more communal and less self centered.

Your concern and understanding of others

feelings and needs is no longer drowned out by the

selfish ego (or something like that)

a couple of dos equis's later we

headed to the haunt of the young

and nubile, a place with a late license,

djs playing rock and indie music,

and lots of people jigging about until

all hours

on entering the upstairs dancefloor

I was pleased to note the very loud

strains of The Stooges "I wanna be your dog"

blaring from giant speakers.

on seeing the vast numbers of beautiful

young women wearing next to nothing,

whilst hearing the thundering of


the night was complete for me

drunkenness, youthfulness,

and loud punkrock

on an ice cold november night

note to self -

I must remember to write a book called

"Nubility and the Male Prerogative"

Friday, November 19, 2004

you´ve got to love a bit of cheese

no hay ninguno cueso,

and I love cheese

bit of stilton and apple

slices of parmesan on the pasta

flame grilled pears in parsley sauce

dirty great hunk of red leicester dumped on top

pidgeon compote minced up with

almond puree and spread on ryvita

sprinkled with shavings of something hard

slithers of chilli pickled port salud

resting on a bed of bruised chinese leaf salad

diamonds of gorgonzola pinned with cocktail sticks

to shelled escargot in a port gravy

¿no os gusta? ye heathens!!

autumn's child

Its another beautiful autumn day here in

London and I am reminded of the song by

Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band.

'Go back ten years ago sunbeams dancing round

Go back ten yeas ago sunbeams dancing down

Autumn's child Autumn's child

Autumn's child got a loophole round her finger

Halo rings her head

Cornhusk hair makes me linger

A cat's stare meet s my dare

A man's chair greets my stare

Gonna be my wife she sang she said

Gonna be my wife gonna spice my life she said

Go back ten years ago sunbeams everywhere

Go back ten years ago sunbeams fill the air

Harvest moon be nimble

Apples bob and tremble

Fish pond streaks love kind

Found the child I have to find

Apples shine share together

Got the time to make her mine

Fish pond streaks love kind

Found the child I had to find

Autumn's child-I met her at a balloon buts picnic

She caught me with the beauty queen

With jade-green eyes buttons and bows and fancy ties

The feet of dust under trees of rust

make them sandals gambol under knees of trust

Gonna be my wife gonna spice my life she sang she said

Gonna be my wife gonna spice my life she said

Go back ten years ago sunbeams shining down

Go back ten years ago sunbeams glancin' round....

Autumn's child...............'

thursdays child

has very very far to go,

I inadvertantly wiped a blog entry

that I was about to publish here.

all I can say is that I waffled something

about friday's child, loving and giving

spanish eddie turned up and fiddled about

as he tends to

Ned Kelly ran the scene

Bruce Langhorne twanged his gitarr

and I went to bed

night night

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

unbelievable hype

With the innumerable blogs that exist out there, 99.99999% of which I have never read and neither have you, is there good reason to

embark on a project such as this ?

My answer is yes, absolutely.

I put my first webpages up back in 1998.

I had spent much of 1996/1997 living in a hazy state of

blissfulness; Writing and drawing spontaneous weird things

in scrappy little notebooks.

The creative ego messily spurting.

Ah yeah, this is cool, I'll make a webpage.

So I sneaked into friends university libraries and read an html

tutorial site called daves site.

Lo and behold I created the home for my whacked out poetry.

I named it Matt Kings Unbelievable Hype.

The last time I updated the site it was being hosted by an old isp of mine.

A few years ago they removed the site and I thought thats it, all over,


Last week I discovered this amazing site the wayback machine.

My baby was still out there - yeah baby yeah.

Now this baby maybe a little embarrassing in places,

painting a certain picture about the author of this site.

But as you know, a bird will sing the same song all of its life.

The same cannot be said for human beings.

Returning to the spirit of the original question.

Is it worth writing that one blog amongst the millions?

These initial words I wrote for that old webpage give reason

for us to shout out, "YES its worth it"!

"Welcome to you all; loveable and unloving beings and creatures.Fleshy visitors with pulse, warm blood and skin.

Let me cut to the snatch. This is a two way give and take thing. Hopefully in this mess of pages will be a snippet of gobbledegook with some value to you. If a little electric miracle occurs and begins a domino run in your synapses then please let out your feedback,

whether it gushes or trickles, into this drain known as..."

Here it is Matt King's Unbelievable Hype

my first post of this blog

welcome to child without an eye

this is my first ever blog and it is ,as yet, completely

without structure purpose or meaning.

but its MINE, all mine and that's quite a nice feeling.

I have joined the masses, the millions, the enscribers of the

human word upon the flickering web of alien code built

by those coffee drinking pizza munchers.

the title Child Without An Eye is taken from the song Buckingham Green

written by a great band called Ween

I also have a fledgeling winamp tv/radio station named

child without an eye which has broadcasted live epiphanies of

eclectic music, instant visual creation, dark comedy and apocalyptic poetry

to a maximum of audience of one!

anyway, enough about that...

I hereby declare this blog open