Tuesday, 12 October 2021

What does it really mean?

What does it really mean?

people may ask that when I send a random email during my Tinnitus time

Basically I'm as good as anybody, and so are you

So email the world, and you may get lucky

Same as smile at that girl, she may actually like you

and not because you are a rich and vacuous

she may see the real you

and not because they pulled your pants down

in the print room, and yes somebody tried that on me

So meaning is revealed

same as feelings

Nothing should be suddenly just gently  gently does it

Like Barry White sings

Anyway in a book there is a story

and on face value that it is it

Just like The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

go look at the story line as advertised on Amazon

Then don't say its a Ma and Pa book as Ed said 20 years ago is it

Look deeper

What is it all about, Alfie

which was a film you can check out

Michael Caine in his prime, and Cilla Black singing

So what is my book all about

It is about Love and Family and lots of laughs

The Family is the street of shops

And there is faith in there too

without pushing anything

It makes you think, if you are able

A community coming together to save the day

Not some pompous story of morality tale

Just a feel good, because the end is good

Then when I watched Star Trek the parable 

became clear without obscuring the story

Not Slap Stick Telegraphed like Americans love

Just that felt  good

Then if you look at that society on the page

and look at your own world 

I hope you might say, that was just a story

but my street my city my country

might be better that way

all of us working together for good

not fighting one another

but fighting for the love of a child

Now I hope this illuminates a bit

any of you receiving one of my Tinnitus emails

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

is based on the street where I grew up

but it can be anywhere any place

in the world, where we stand united 

and not being divided

by lies.....

you should be able to work that out simply

And by the way 3 Arab countries over on my Wordpress

So I'll load up Arabic Translations and put them

all on one Page The Arabic Collection

so you can all have a read in one place

and not just because we have an Arabic

connection in the family

There's Hebrew too online already

And it kind of all starts in a.....

go read the book

don't be lazy



Sunday, 10 October 2021

who's looking at my hits again. + The Magnificent 7 Korean Best

who's looking at my hits again

Thank you whoever you are

is it the Koreans in USA, maybe

But if you read everything then you may want to have my babies

That'll stop you in your tracks

Being my typist and then having 4 babies and forming a Kpop band

That's all the reward you'll get if you read everything

as for me, I'll just die happy 

and you'll be left changing nappies

which is English for diapers 

So be careful of your reading matters

Because punctuation matters

Otherwise  my daughter at Uni is doing well

my smaller daughter in the corner beside me

had her 2nd covid jab today, Sunday

I may get a third due to the state of my organs

I won't make a joke about the 4 kids...

Anyway stay happy always

The whole world is reading The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

in Translations everywhere, so thank again

But do not spam me from afar, or I'll reach out

and fart through your screen

6G technology, so beware of my backside

You have nowhere to hide

If you Perdue and afar send me rubbish

Go and study instead of wasting your time

me and my big daughter 20 years ago, perfect parent

The Magnificent 7 Korean Best

I’ve really enjoyed Vincenzo, and my Korean translations are doing well according to the download figures, though the Arabs and 300 and Not out are in the lead.

So here’s all my Korean Translations again, if you thank me, you’ll have to use English via Google Translate, and all other folks don’t sent me get rich rubbish, from Japanese guys in Paraguay for example, you are just wasting my time. As you did yesrter


Saturday, 9 October 2021

I just finished checking my readers and found was being read so here it is again

 I just finished checking my readers and found this was being read so here it is again

something full of hope. Before the curse of Tinnitus was added to my pains. 

this is from 2014

And Azerbaijan  seems to like my stuff recentlySunday, 1


t0 August 2014

We are all related in Paradise



We are all related in Paradise ©
By Michael Casey

Summer is the time for holidays, summer is also the time for delays. My wife and mother in law and our 2 daughters were stuck in Osaka due to the Typoon. Now they are about to land in Shanghai where they’ll finish their holiday. How China Eastern Airlines looks after stranded passengers is another matter, I won’t dwell on it, for now.

As for me I’m home alone in Birmingham so I’ve been using the internet to track the storm and to see how flights are affected. A few messages to the departure lounge and their camp bed made up of seats. I suppose afterwards my daughters will think it’s been a big adventure.

Back here in Birmingham we were awaiting the leftover hurricane Bertha, Big Bertha. My sister is planning to go to Chicago, so that’s to the West while my family is in the East the Far East. How would my sister’s planned trip be affected by the left over storm, she already had to wait a year for this trip.

Then I got thinking about my mother, she used to keep a bottle of Holy Water behind the side door, where the bread bin used to be, next to shoes and a row of coats hanging up, this is 45 years ago now. So if the storm was too much and she was afraid it would damage our roof she’d open the door up and sprinkle Holy Water, commanding the weather to calm down. Yes, Faith of a Child, it was this which I inherited when she died, because I needed it. And I never cried when she died either. My dad, I cried like a puppy dog beaten with an iron bar.

So in Paradise my mother is watching over us and sees the storm, Bertha is bearing down on England, mum’s youngest child’s holiday plans could be delayed. She has to get to Dublin first for the Chicago flight, the weather could delay her. So imagine what my mum does, any mum would do.

Reaching inside her smock, the blue one she always wore around the house, the smock she was wearing the last time I saw her alive, mum brings out a ten gallon container of Holy Water. Freshly filled that morning from the stream that runs through the garden of Eden. Paradise is the garden of Eden, didn’t you all know that. Mum drenches Bertha from on high and says, that’s enough, be still now. As I speak Birmingham has sunshine.

Besides mum a Chinaman appears and knocks her elbow, he apologises, my mum answers in perfect Shanghai dialect. The Chinaman is impressed, how did she manage that? He is speaking in a Kerry accent, a strong one at that. They both look confused, then they smile. God does work in mysterious ways after all.

My daughter is going to Chicago, my daughter is bringing my 2 granddaughters to Shanghai. Mum looks down and smiles. They continue speaking, mum in Shanghai dialect and the Chinaman in a very thick Kerry accent. The Chinaman reveals that his daughter has a Birmingham husband. My mum says she lived in Birmingham. They exchange pleasantries as mum magics up tea and Madeira cake, our Sunday treat when we were small.

It’s then that mum realised they are her granddaughters too, she jumps for joy, she never ever saw them when she was alive, she died too early for it to happen. She has 2 granddaughters, her son got married and had 2 daughters. Why didn’t she know that before? She reaches into her smock and produces 2 ten gallon containers of Holy Water, together they pour them over the Typhoon over Japan.

My dad appears, he’s had his bacon and eggs breakfast, mum shouts excitedly, we have 2 granddaughters, ½ Shanghai granddaughters. I know said dad, I held one in my arms before I came to join you here in the Garden of Eden. Why didn’t you tell me? I forgot.

Paradise is a strange place, it’s like a bouncy castle for kids, everybody is so happy and there is fizzy pop too, and Cadbury’s chocolate everywhere, Cadbury’s Crunchie is everywhere, growing from the trees next to the apples.

So the Chinaman calls all his relatives over, did they know they all have Irish relatives. Mum calls over all the generations of the Kerry family, and did they know they had Chinese family. Everybody is happy, the Chinese all speak with really thick Kerry accents. All the Irish speak Shanghai dialect. Everybody is happy, they have thousands of years of family stories to share. Mum pulls out a 20 gallon container, this time it’s Poteen, another type of holy water.

They all look down, 2 storms have abated, so they can enjoy their drink. What do Chinese/Irish family talk about? They talk about their grandchildren of course, and best of all you can drink as much Poteen as you like and you don’t get drunk, happy yes, drunk no. 

Another day in Paradise.



soon 3500 pieces will be here, stories and chats but why run to Guam to avoid me?

soon 3500 pieces will be here,  stories and chats

and today when I looked Guam was reading me

So are you a travel agent, or a nun on the run

over on Wordpress, and why so many Koreans

are reading Quick Stories 

300 and Not OUT is funny too, a publisher said so

Though I try and write lots of funny pieces

But I do add a serious piece every now and then

Everything is there to amuse

Nobody wants to pay for my original English on Amazon

So I've dumped on you in all the languages I could think of

Maybe that's why you've swum to Guam

To wash your hair from the fallout 

Using coconuts and  drinking rum 

as you watch the setting sun

Or maybe you want to avoid all the lies from Trump

Far Far Away just you and your donkey and Shrek for company

As USA implodes with Anger about Everything and Everybody

Maybe we'll all wake up on a beach in Guam

With mushroom clouds obscuring the setting sun

Dr Strangelove and all that

Or maybe HONESTY will become the new fashion

Power Corrupts and Absolute Power  Corrupts Absolutely

and it is NOT Fabulous

See I've watched too much news

BUT Tinnitus in my head for years, and since June maybe, far far worse

Maybe I'm Pregnant and having a baby

WHO said that, I know I have Covid Belly, from watching too much telly

But Seriously, but seriously why do I think of Jon Sopal from the BBC

when  I say that?

Political News has filled me so full of

Enough

I may go buy a lottery, if I can walk to the end of the road

as for you read Chapter 9 of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

M.P. Married to a Person, Married to a People. its my take on an Election Campaign 

in Old Forge and Singing Anvil

remember I first finished it on Leap Years Day 1988

and Politics have changed so much since then




Friday, 8 October 2021

In the Vacuum

In the Vacuum

Of Space

Of Time

Of lack of Love

Your Mind whirling around

There is no sound

Just Tinnitus in your head

You are all alone in your bed

Would Passion end the sound in our head

Don't Give Up

Sings Peter Gabriel as I talk to you

Angels have the view from the stars

As I beg for Silence

Just the Sound of Silence

So I make the music higher

To drown the Tinnitus in my head

As I beg God for Silence

As I violently punch my pillows

But they fight back

Whose idea was it to have a metal zip on a pillow slip

So it  scratches me in retaliation

Soothing sounds come from my phone, from my smart speaker

As the Hiss and Hum of Tinnitus is worse than a beat of a drum

Some distraction some action would be more than welcome

To take the noise and pain away

And on it goes day and night, night and day

Charlie Watts up in Heaven can you ask the Heavenly drummer to STOP


@@@@

I did not know I'd write that, the first line refers to an email I got

so at least I got today's piece, which I will insert into the book

as I never know when or where or how inspiration will come

Anyway Vacuum you are welcome if you really appear, 

and if you do they'll be a story to create about that.


and Quick Stories remains the new favourite with Koreans

and Kim how about throwing those nukes away and open Golf Courses

with Trump instead....


A Korean Christmas Carol ©
By Michael Casey

Vincent was a little child in Seoul, he had been learning English at school, so the teacher decided to read a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens to the class as Christmas was approaching. The teacher Mr Michael confessed that he had listened to it on the radio after Midnight Mass at Saint Patricks after he’d thrown snowballs at Danny Moylan. And there was another Vincent there who defended himself with his umbrella. Vincent  laughed at the mention of his name.

So Vincent  fell asleep with the Tale fresh in his head. But Vincent was worried because they had a noisy neighbour called Kim who was always letting off fireworks, one had even smashed their bedroom window. As Vincent drifted off to sleep the world news with Douglas Stewart reporting was on the BBC world service, A Christmas Carol was going to be next but Vincent fell asleep as it began.
The Ghost of Christmas past came first, this was a beautiful Korean girl smiling and singing Kpop songs. Vincent smiled in his sleep. Korea was one big happy family then. Just singing and nice dancing, no marching, just laughter, real laughter and nobody carrying notebooks in their hand.

Vincent was so happy he even chuckled in his sleep. Mr Michael his teacher was right Charles Dickens was the BEST. Well in the English language anyway. Then clouds appeared and walls and noise and stamping and unfriendly fireworks appeared. Half the land sung Kpop the other half, just marched like robots with a smile that was fixed with fear hidden in their eyes. Half had technology  and lights, the other half had no roads, no street lights just dim dim dark life.


One half had food galore and had the Korean Dream and Samsung really was king, the other just seemed sad but pretended to be happy by shouting a lot. They marched a lot too,  to stay warm as their homes were so cold. Only the army mattered, not the people not the poor, not the sick, not the uneducated, not the least of Korea’s brethren. Only the army mattered.

One half got poorer and poorer and sick and turning into skeletons and ghosts. But all the time they cheered for the Emperor in his new clothes. While the people in that half became more and more naked, building a giant Golden Ox which was the name of the nuclear missile, though some thought it was a great hotel. But really inside it was a hanger for the greatest nuclear weapon ever. And still the people in that side clapped and carried notebooks to record the Emperor’s every word. As their clothes fell off their backs and they were more and more naked.  Some even dying as they marched for their Emperor.

Vincent started to cry in his sleep, why couldn’t the Emperor just vanish like in fairy tales. The Ghost of Christmas present was a newsreader shouting and shouting, threatening and threatening. There was no hope and love in her voice, just anger. Wasn’t Christmas supposed to be about Love and Hope and a Future. Vincent screamed and sat bolt upright in his bed he was so scared, his parents came running and comforted him. Then with his head resting on his mother’s breast he fell asleep. His mother switched off the radio, why was he listening to BBC World service, he should listen to more Kpop it was Christmas after all.

Vincent slept on the Ghost of Christmas Future appeared, it was a scruffy monk with mittens, the monk showed Korea, all Korea in ruins, mushroom clouds drifting in the sky. Seoul was in ruins, millions were dead, the North was a wasteland. The Emperor was trapped in his bunker far beneath the Subway, 100s of metres underground. But even the Emperor knew his half  was destroyed  just as much as the  other half. The food would run out and the air would run out, maybe he’d last  3 months, but then he would be entombed, just like an Egyptian King. Nobody would bother to dig him out, but at least HE had felt no pain as the entire country was vaporised.

There was a knocking at his office door, a scruffy monk in mittens  appeared, the Emperor raised his gun to shoot the monk. The monk laughed, I’m dead already, 1968 was the year I went to Heaven. As for you only Hell awaits, I’ve come to show you a vision of Hell. Vincent screamed in his sleep but his mother did not come to comfort him. Vincent watched frozen as the scruffy monk in mittens placed his hand on the Emperor’s head. The Emperor screamed and convulsed in pain, he peed his pants and poohed simultaneously, then he vomited.

The scruffy monk, then said, that is  but a vision, this is what it really feels like, much much worse than being vaporised in a nuclear war. So the monk continued to hold his hand on the emperor’s head, in one second the Emperor felt an eternity of pain. Hell is the absence of God’s Love. The Emperor fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness, if only he could turn back the clock, if only, if only.   
Vincent woke up  sweating, he could not speak.  He grabbed his Rosary, Mr Michael had explained that the Rosary was Mary’s Nuclear weapons. And with the Rosary you could defeat the Devil himself. So Vincent said his Rosary and went to sleep happy and safe. The funny thing was that his radio was still on. The end of A Christmas Carol was being told.  Scrooge repents and leads a good life and knows how to Celebrate the Joy of Christmas.

As Vincent fell asleep a News Flash North Korean was ended all its Nuclear ambitions and Putin himself would visit on  Christmas Day to sign a deal to ship all nuclear material over the border to Russia. And how did this come about ?  The Christmas Disco in Heaven was KPop that year and the 100,000 Korean Martyrs had asked the scruffy monk to Save Korea not just for Christmas but for always.

So he really had slipped out to pay the Emperor a visit. He also visited Putin too telling him to grab his place in History before his heart attack. When Putin heard this he decided to do as the scruffy monk suggested. Though the monk did put his hand on Putin’s chest, telling him he could live till he was 100 if he retired, being President is really stressful.  The scruffy monk also paid a visit to the White House, all he said to Trump was Be Humble when Putin rings you, and then you retire immediately as after saving the world everything else is a waste of your time.

Vincent woke up and it was snowing in Seoul, church bells were ringing, Korea would be One again, as for the scruffy monk in mittens, he got back in time to hear George Michael singing the Ave Maria, Merry Christmas Korea, all and one Korea.











Thursday, 7 October 2021

Why I'll never be Interviewed

Why I’ll never be Interviewed ©

By
Michael Casey

We’ve all heard and seen interviews, even the pretend ones in newspapers where 20 questions, ok 8, are asked and answered. It’s just an email back and a reply really. I saw one with Frodo recently, and frankly they are a waste of time, a page filler. Frodo will mount a quest now against me. Sorry I just had to take some pain killer, I saw an interview once with the writer of the Singing Detective and he had to pause and swig morphine, so luckily I’m not that bad, though in the middle of it, you just wish lots of things.

So why should I hate interviews, or rather interviewers? Well they don’t listen to start with, if you are talking to me I actually want to be talked to, not processed. Not scanned at a supermarket checkout by a bored girl. Though me being me, I always start a conversation, and yes they do wish I was a tin of beans, though I do fart as much. So, it’s a question of attitude, and the Irish in me wants words, not silence, silence is for lambs. Also describing a page is never as good as reading it. So, I’d rather read a page and not talk about it. A page is a performance, well the way I write it is, the Jackson Pollock school of writing, so how can I possibly talk about it?

The interviewer always wastes time and goes around in circles. If I say it’s a bit like Shakespeare, the interviewer always then says, so you are comparing yourself to Shakespeare, then you go off on a tangent wasting time on that. If the interviewer actually listened he’d learn more, on behalf of the listeners or readers of viewers, instead of justifying his own existence. Two ears and only one tongue, and no I’m not talking about foreplay either. An interviewer is there to listen, it’s not a Political Interview where we all know the Politician is a Liar, a Damn Liar hiding in bed  with Statistics, and Statistics was all that mattered, 38/24/38 when his assistant became Political with him. But enough of that, NDAs and all.

The Interviewer goes around in circles, as if his foot was nailed to the floor, or he is painting his nails and ignoring you as you answer, or texting his mum, asking are his shorts done. Then there is the backward announcing to studio and the advert for next week too. Not forgetting the Nods to camera which will be inserted later to pretend he was actually listening to you, as vacuous as the kind pleasantries at the beginning and the end to prove to the People’s Choice Viewers that he is everybody’s best friend. But  judging by the laser looks from the crew, they hate him just as much as you.

So why waste time being interviewed. I’ll read aloud a page or two and let the audience judge for themselves. Never let an overweight and over paid idiot, get in the way between you and the words. Let folks, read touch taste every sentence, it should be like a French Kiss between me and my readers. I just hope when I open my eyes, I enjoy who I’ve exchanged spit with.






Tinnitus revenge

Tinnitus revenge

last night was bad

but I'm in the land of the living now

Somebody is still going through my site 

like a hot knife through butter

So thank you, though there are books on Amazon too

But I know you all like free stuff

Sky Glass is in the news today

You might like it

Me I think Content is king

and Sky is past it

A new fancy internet tv is nice

but for 200 quid you can own your own

So why rent a TV no matter how fancy

But that's my opinion

Maybe too many Yes men at Sky

Or Rupert will ban me

So you'll never be looking at me

Through any glass, not even a looking glass

But that does not matter

He'll outlive me anyway

I have to find a new Kdrama to watch next

So I'll get back to you on that

And any Russians out there, don't forget 

to try my stuff, especially Lech, Boris and Gregorgi stories

and the Spaceman and The Archangel

TTFN



Triple or Quadruple?

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