Sunday 11 March 2018

Spring has finally Sprung

Spring has finally Sprung, so our central heating breaks down.

I have a title for the next piece

Life is a Rubik Cube not a Jigsaw

The philosophy students amongst you can work that out and see if you are right when I actually write it later on today, pain permitting.

other than that I've  slimmed down the site, you have backup sites to look at if you want to.

1,270,000 words or so now over 15 books. And pain all over my body too, so that's a balance I suppose. Come back later and there may be new stuff.

https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC



Saturday 10 March 2018

A Child's Eye View

this is from 7 years ago. I'm in too much pain to write anything new today, and just for fun our central heating has broken down, but at least we have an oil heater so we don't turn into ice cubes, or any other rapper.
I'll get back on the horse tomorrow, and write piece 1600 or whatever it is. I have stopped counting individual stories now. Its 1,270,000 Words though. All I need is for you all to buy the books then we could finally move house. 

A Child’s’ Eye View ©

By

Michael Casey

My small daughter had made a  dangly thing, I don’t know how to describe it really. It’s a piece of coloured plastic which has holes in. Well that much is straightforward, then there are flowers and coloured wires hanging from it. A kind of bad hair day made from plastic. In effect its like those doorways which have strips of material  handing down to separate one room from another. There must be a word for it but I’d know it, but I’m  sure somebody will tell me. In films its chip shops and barbers who have these “doors”, I hope you get the picture.

Now that I’ve confused things, let me continue with the tale; though I should add that I have good news to share, I’ve rediscovered Don Camillo again. So I’m expecting a delivery of a Don Camillo omnibus in the post. With such a good feeling I decided to please my small daughter an d find somewhere to display her “art”. WE did think of hanging it in our living room/ kitchen  area, I was about to find a chair to stand on and tie the “art”   to an old curtain rail, but we were overruled by the Voice of Reason which is otherwise know as The Shanghai Mum. If you don’t know Shanghai mums are very strict and don’t appreciate “art”, so me and my daughter were banished from the living room.

We retreated upstairs and we scoured the girls’ room for a location for the modern “art”, in the end we decided if we tied a piece of string to the art we could then hang it up underneath a picture that was on their wall. So we found a ball of string and cut it to the right length, and then attached it to our plastic thingy or watsit, and I was given the task of attaching it to the string that was holding up the painting.
Unfortunately the picture fell off the wall, and even when I found a hammer, all I did was make a mess and the picture fell off the wall again.

So I had failed, Andrew Graham-Dixon would have been moved to tears, so we retreated to my room and hung in on my wall. The plastic “art” was forgotten, the hammer was put away. All that is left are the marks on the wall where the picture had hung for many a year. But at least the girls have a new location where they can put a poster, all they need is gluetac, which is far easier than hammer and nails.





Why are writers and poets so precious?(c) By Michael Casey



Why are writers and poets so precious?(c) 

By Michael Casey


Why are writers and poets so precious?
Are words more important than people.
Do we love our words more than our selves
Our words are our children
But we hate children
We hate people
We just love words
Words are our mistress
Words are our lovers
Words are our whores
We prefer the page
We prefer the pen in our hand
We prefer the soft touch of the keyboard
A woman in our bed is not good enough
A man in our arms does not satisfy us.
No we want words
We want to make love to a dictionary


p.s. I've just burnt my dictionary I'm going to bed with a woman!

 just in case you think I'm making it up about the heart, here's the proof

Friday 9 March 2018

Trump and Kim go for Fish and Chips

Well I did say months  ago that Kim and Trump should could come to Birmingham, so

maybe now

that they are going for a blind date they may indeed come to Birmingham.

WE have coloured chips.

WE have Druckers cake shop  and coffee place

just behind our Birmingham's Saint Phillips cathedral

We have the Swallow hotel where Bill Clinton stayed when  he was in town

We have a few other nice hotels too.

Please give up your toys Kim, because Trump really really really will nuke you if you do not.

China's squeeze on North Korea is kicking in now too.

So Kim, before the Revolution comes, you need to change or die, as simple as that really.

OR you can jointly share the Nobel Peace Prize with Trump

Birmingham has  a few golf courses too, so you could play around with Donald.

We have some very nice new apartments in The Jewelry Quarter too, so buy a few Kim.

Or you can buy my house from me, the site of my first 16 books, Sweet Sixteen is half done already.

You can boast you live in Michael Casey's the fat silver haired writer in shades former home.

So Kim, you know it makes sense, make Peace, make Love not War, buy property in Birmingham.

Then play golf with the Donald.

Or just be a Flash in the East as Donald vaporises you.

I know which I'd choose.

North Korea is a very beautiful land, and its people should all have full bellies and work for

Samsung. Then the Trumps will build hotels and golf courses galore in North Korea.

Come on Kim, be a Leader, put People first not Nuclear toys.

You only have a few months left. And if you are playing for time while you build worse weapons.

Then Beware. The clock has stopped ticking. Multiple Satellites are watching.

And to encourage you. I can give you all of my books free of charge to read.

Is that a big enough bribe Kim, to keep you and all of North Korea alive.

Flash of Inspiration or Nuclear Flash?



p.s. If you click the link to my other site I have a Korean Translation of one of my books

Still Alive 2015

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/2018/03/09/trump-and-kim-go-for-fish-and-chips/

https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC




Thursday 8 March 2018

Writing Cookbook

Writing Cookbook ©
By
Michael Casey

They say that too many cooks spoil the broth, and today has been a bit like that. My wife has been working from home and my daughter has a study day before a big exam in Maths and Biology. So I cannot walk around the house naked scratching my large imagination, and if you believe that then you have a bigger imagination than me, or is it hands?

So what is my writing cookbook and do I wash and strain all my words, before peeling them and gently adding virgin olive oil to them? How many pages from a dictionary do I dice and slice before tossing them on top of the melange? Do I roger my thesaurus to get just the right effect. Or do I never used a dictionary, because I want to feel the page, even if I get paper cuts. And is all this just one filthy metaphor, whatever a metaphor is, I assumed it was dating a weather forecaster.

I only use a dictionary as a prop to pose with for a pretentious writer photo, yes those photos. If a word is not in my vocabulary by now then I’m not going to waste my time looking for this or that nuance, which sounds like a cruel curse, calling a boy/man a nuance, or even a nuance of a man. So cruel.

You see after all my years of writing, ok, attempts at being an Artist, I am still a Young Man, I cannot strain, or maybe I don’t want to hurt myself by straining too much. So my words flow, and if I’ve learnt a new word from the DT or the Guardian then I might slip it in, just to pretend to own a dictionary. I casually add a word, like Andrew Pierce does but with name dropping. So I drop a word, or a nice metaphor and smile at my page a la Andrew Pierce. He’ll never read this so don’t go telling him,or he’ll name drop me next. Though his friend with the Mirror might just crack up laughing. The only Michael Casey they know is that Monk who writes all those books about cask ales, about reaching a higher spiritual level.

So you can see I have no cookbook, what I write as all a load of c*&*, nicely presented on the page, so you can hold a pint sorry a litre of cask ale, he is a Mirror man after all, and flick though my words. I don’t follow the Shakespeare recipe, eye of newt and tongue of journalist, and judge’s indigestion. I just go with Flo, no not Flo the cleaner but flow, the flow. I am dancing with words and sometimes if I’m wanton with sentences big and small, that go all the place till I’m breathless and panting. Which can just be my pain getting to me before I can slap on the Movelat, or it can be excitement brought on by a good workout on the page with some words.

Words have power, they can slip, and slide or they can scream and shout and let every single emotion out. And if your words are good then every single metaphor you may have assumed was mentioned previously in this piece become a new reality. Whatever that may or may not mean, its all in your head. I just lead you up the garden path, you may stumble and plant seeds in the flowerbed, or you may open the front door and fall to the floor on the carpet. And no I’m not going to mention that kind of carpet, what kind of writer do you think I am, I have more class. Besides it’s only just been vacuum cleaned.

So I started with a cooking metaphor and it’s morphed into a carpet cleaning salesman metaphor. Thankfully I did not mention shake and vac, that would have been beyond the pale. If you want milk, its in the pale in the milk cooler, if you want to flavour it, then I have some strawberries, to make a smoothie.

I hope you understand now how I work my fingers to the bone, to try and make you all laugh, if I had to flip through pages in a dictionary to get the exact word for this or that then the other words wouldn’t come to the page. I like to be spontaneous, like a Hippy Wordsmith, hey man lets use our vocabulary, lets get a sentence down, don’t frown man, you have to enjoy life, you could die in the night. So come here and use an adverb on me, that’s it and use a few adjectives too. Adverb and Adjectives and some good verbs, hey man I’m feeling Groovy now, why is the room spinning. Or is it that cask ales that Michael Casey the monk makes. Or is Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer is shades from Birmingham the one in England using his similes on us. He’ll go blind you know, too much use of the verbose, he’ll explode like a balloon with letters of the alphabet strewn everywhere.

Which brings us back to cooking, a recipe for a piece of writing is made up from individual letters of the alphabet. An a or a b or a c, put together to form words which are then mixed and occasionally tossed like pancakes to form something delicious an almost as good as chocolate. And if your writing is good it can end in sex, or you may just have to use a dictionary, which could be a metaphor.    








Padre Pio and Me

                  Padre Pio and Me ©
                        By
                   Michael Casey

 It’s a contradiction in terms immediately , how can I copyright  a Saint . A brand new saint at that . I first heard of him through some Religious reading I did . I feel embarrassed to admit it , but I am a practising Catholic , its not fashionable to have any Faith but its mine so I admit it . Immediately the prejudice begins , but if I WERE A Jew or a Muslim , it would be the same . I do feel that my catholic tastes have given me a broader outlook on life , as has my  eclectic tastes and rubbing shoulders with a wide variety of people .
But I want to talk about Padre Pio . I had a crisis and was reading about him at the time , so I said my prayers to him and the way forward was revealed . Though Padre Pio always says go Higher , he is just a stepping stone on the way to a better place . What is so hard to understand about Padre Pio  is how he suffered . He had the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune . Condemned by his own superiors , made to be quiet for a decade and so forth . Science Fiction teaches or rather amuses us about Time Travel , but with Padre Pio it really happened , he wanted to share in Christ’s agony so he thought , what if he too could have and suffer the wounds on that day of Crucifixion . So it came to pass that he suffered for 50years . He had the indignity of medical examinations and of being thought just to be a mental patient , but his work and life proved his holiness .
So it’s nearly 1990 and I hear about him and read a few books , it’s hard to understand the value of suffering in this age of quick fix pain killers and the lets have a fix , whatever the fix might be , sex, drugs and rock and roll or whatever . It’s like suddenly studying again after years of lying fallow , the learning curve is enormous . So too is it with Padre Pio , the idea behind his life is enormous , but so too is the capacity for love and help .
My favourite story is how Padre Pio explains that The Wedding Feast at Cana happened because Jesus could not refuse his mother . Very Italian , or Irish or Spanish and so on , but could any of us refuse our mothers?
So I thought more about what Padre Pio said , and his motto of Pray Hope Don’t Worry became my own . Carpe Diem is another good motto but perhaps this can be used by any Hedonist , or other kind of selfish person .Padre Pio reminds us to pray and that pray is not wasted , its perfume that is never wasted is a phrase I like . My mother always used to say that if you couldn’t sleep you should say the Rosary , and she was right . Though in today’s world an hour on the Internet or with MTV might do the trick .
So why the devotion to Padre Pio , I’ll cut to the chase.
My mother died suddenly but peacefully in her sleep , my brother tried CPR , but she was gone . Imagine the angusih amongst her 6 children and her husband of nearly 50 years .

All except me , my mother had said no tears when she go ,so I never cried , I was the odd one out .I know how prayerful she was , so I had no need of tears .
Eight bare weeks later my brother , the same brother heard our dad fall out of bed , so he ran to his bedroom . My brother was facing the exact same situation , he tried CPR , the ambulance was called , an injection was given straight to the heart . On weekends there is a doctor in the ambulance , so Luck , if that’s the word was with us . The next day 4 of my brothers and sisters came around to tell me the news . When my sister had come around 8 weeks previously I knew somebody was dead but I assumed it was my dad , he’s die first we all thought . So now 8 weeks later it was his turn to die .
At the hospital dad was given 1 week to live , I cried like a baby , worse than a baby , but I loved him , so I told him he should go to our mother and not hang on if he didn’t want to . The next day I was in my sister’s house crying , we picked hymns for his funeral .Yet my father survived , 19 patients on a heart ward , 18 died my dad survived . Padre Pio was besieged by my prayers , I put Padre Pio’s photo under his pillow . Dad lost his mind , he was in Dudley Rd for 3months , 12 weeks , more than half of them all tubed up . His life hanging in the balance . At the same time somewhere in Florida another man was at deaths door , he was a totally stranger to me , I didn’t even know his name , I’d never met him , he was give 24hours to live , a Chinese man from Shanghai  was at deaths door . The Chinaman survived .My dad’s memory was totally wiped , he did not know who I was, I’m your son was greeted with , am I married . I was the favourite son , he did not even know me . But still we prayed , it’s a feeling in your guts , just like when you are nearly killed as you cross the road , its in your guts and in your heart , Jesus save my dad , Jesus save my dad , Padre Pio help !!! This goes around your head like a merry go around or a kaleidoscope . Finally dad awoke . He said that he can remember hearing the doctor say to wheel him down to the end of the ward , because he’d be dead soon . At that moment my dad awoke, and the doctor dropped  his cup of tea in shock . No not an instantaneous  miracle , but as Dr Singh had said if he were 30years younger he’d have a heart transplant because dad’s heart was rubbish .
Now , when I told my brother that dad was reading a newspaper he was shocked . His memory had come back . He knew who we all were .Every day for three months I walked the corridor at Dudley Rd , the longest hospital corridor in Europe , 1 kilometre long . Finally he left the hospital , my sister had found a good home for him to live in , he was far too weak to live in the family house .
For 3 years dad survived , like a Godfather with all his children making constant visits . Finally I met my future wife . It was her uncle who had miraculously survived at the same time as my father . It was her uncle who encouraged us in our love . From Shanghai to Birmingham .These great men , her uncle and my father never met , but I know Padre Pio must have  helped both of them . Further prayer was needed to bring me and my wife permanently together . A Chinese miracle happened . Now we are wed , we have a 2year old and please God a healthy second baby in the Autumn . The improbability of our meeting , plus the fact that both men HAD to live for us to be married and have a family , this may be a coincidence to some but I know a miracle when I see one. A miracle is something that makes you feel humble , it makes you know that God has whispered your name . When I look at my wife , I feel humble . Seeing our daughter laugh and play also makes me humble as will our new baby.
Then you can look back and know that prayer is like perfume that can never be wasted  , your life has led you to where you are now , yes at times sad and terrible , but be humble in the sight of God means something , not just for me , but for all Believers .
I once stood by the fridge and said to Padre Pio , I give up , you take over , all I want is to be married , and perhaps have a family , and do something useful with my life . That was just before my eyes were opened to my wife . I used to say that I got 2 out of my 3 wishes . Perhaps my current occupation is my 3rd wish , or a more outstanding miracle is waiting in the wings , but as Padre Pio  said ,always ask for the big Grace . Perhaps we have to be humble enough to deserve it , because I believe it to be a fact that , truly great people are humble because they know just how little they really know.




well its now 2018....

Wednesday 7 March 2018

It's the way I camp

It's the way I Camp ©
By
Michael Casey

I was wondering what to talk about tonight, and I was almost stumped for 5 minutes, but as ever a story presented itself. Which sounds as if the stories are flashers appearing randomly to shock me and maybe you. As I write the word flasher 2 other stories come to mind, I share just one. I was on holiday once and somebody asked me what the English word for flasher was, and they did the actions, of a man opening his coat and flashing. So I told them the word and I then had to spell it for them so they could consult a huge dictionary. Then they went away laughing, though this is the edited version of the story. But at least you can see I have a dictionary or encyclopedia full of potential stories, all I need is a key word and it unlocks a story.

I was going to talk about camping, but that word in itself has various meanings. Camp is a style of humour in England, so if you say you are going camping people start to smile. And if a Gay comedian says it you laugh and you get a series of innuendo filled stories revolving around camping. If you google Around the Horne, which may be an innuendo title in itself then you will find a whole load of camp  humour. Google Kenneth Williams too, he was very funny and had a strange voice. Then you can google the Carry On films, on Utube you may even see whole films. Carry on Up the Kyber might be the funniest of all. The plot involves flashing too. I’ve included a link for all of you https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1sq604 

Ok class stop watching British Comedy from the 1960s, and read the rest of my rubbish. 90 mins later you are back with me now?

So Camping, I’ve never been camping, if I want to wear wet clothes I’ll get somebody to throw a bucket of water over me. And why would I want to rustle with fat girl thighs, or worse lard ass thighs as wearing all plastic I walk over hills and dales carrying a heavy pack on my pack. No doubt singing, pack all you troubles up in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile. Being all hot and sweaty and feeling like a boil in a bag meal. And they call this a holiday.

I saw campers and trekkers in Killarney, from the warmth of my aunt’s car as she sped past. I’d visit 3 relatives a day and be fed at each house. Meanwhile trekkers were just sweaty and steaming. I’d have fun at all my relative’s homes and then say out goodbyes and be driven home to the warmth of my aunt’s cottage and a bed. The campers sleep in a cold tent with shared toilet facilities.

Some trekkers like to smoke and if they come to Killarney they may get arrested. If it is cannabis. One trekker did just that, and got a bed for the night in Killarney jail. He tried to escape in the morning, but he did not know who the cleaner was in the jail. The cleaner was my aunt Delia, so she helped subdue the not so happy camper, when a 17.5 stone woman pushes you you feel it. So maybe if the camper had an aunt like mine none of this would have happened.

Now if I went camping I’d only go if it meant being carried in a chair through the countryside, or from one 5 star hotel to another. Then I’d have a pedicure and a massage before going to sleep in a super king size bed. I may have a tent on the floor for my cat. Other than that I think camping is not for me, at this point in my life I want to be pampered. However if any of you want to go camping then follow this link http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1sdyy5 
for Carry on Camping. Then you will discover just some of my influences.  




for Spanish speakers from this Sancho Panza

Humour Writing by the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England read in 162 countries so far https://www.amazon.co.uk/Micha...