Spring, it has plenty gifts to give, an Big Brother is just one of them.
Alongside inappropriate erections and the promise of a blinding debut album from Babyshambles; hidden away amidst the hint of a smile in the savage purple and the threat of no, ain't no smile to be had for you, ya big fruit; in the haze of a literary binge of unspeakable depravity, dancing with St Augustine and De Sade and Burroughs and Thompson, with Bunuel and Dali and GG Allin applauding from the sidelines; with all this clinging to the hide of Spring 2005, who even notices Big Brother?
But it's there, all the while, reflecting the gaze and justifying it.
And then, when all thoughts regarding Big Brother are spent for the meantime;
"I drank too much" says a fella from back in the day. "I think I'm gonna puke my fucking balls out."
He was 17 or thereabouts, and battering an electric guitar in front of a roomful of disinterested bikers, and I to the right, and behind us a fella hammering away on a drum-kit bought from an Elvis Impersonator with Loyalist sympathies.
A Memory, is what it all boils down to, one simmering to the surface of the skull-gunk this past month, and all concerning a fella's age.
There's a Billy Bragg lyric which goes something along the lines of;
"People ask me, when will you grow up to be a man?
But all the girls I loved in school are already pushing prams."
I can relate to that right there, but truth be told, the girls I loved in school were pushing prams before they ever left the fucking place. Kids popping from bellies left and right for that final year, was the basic crux of the situation.
What worries me more is something along the lines of;
"All my friends from school are already pushing prams."
Recently, I couldn't help notice, all the folks who used to sing in my bands, or who used to help me sneak out the window in pursuit of drunken fumbles that never materialized, or who would chortle as I made prank phone-calls to the White House (requesting a tour on behalf of the Pan-European Communist Party, a party which, to the best of my knowledge, doesn't exist), or who listened to tales of lovelorn woe, all those people have seemingly crossed some line of some kind, a barricade that separates them from me, and that barricade, man, it's fucking terrifying.
It says things like "Mortgage". It says "Babies". It says "Look here, a ring. Where's yours? Oh, sorry, forgot. If You See Her, Say Hello…"
Article comments
1 - Temple Stark
Is this your audition tape for Innerspace II?
2 - Eric Berlin
Great stuff, Duke.
So what's next now that you've sprung free well into summer?
3 - Mat Brewster
Up here in the furthest reaches of The Duke's Arse, though, that winter gets painted all shades of metaphorical, and metaphorically, it was the harshest winter a motherfucker ever endured.
Beautiful, beautiful stuff, Duke.
4 - swingingpuss
The post was as pleasurable as a quick illict scatch on the arse ;-)
5 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
Thank folks.
Temple - You rumbled me! I'm hoping to play the part of Dennis Quaid acting as The Duke.
Eric B - i have no idea where summer is goin to be takin a fella. someplace less internal, i'm hopin. who knows?
Mat - Thank you, man.
And Swingingpuss - That was EXACTLY my aim, in those very words ;)
6 - Eric Berlin
Man, I'd love to see an Inner Space sequel with The Duke in the lead role.
7 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
haha Eric, i'm hoping you'll use your power for to get me into a room with dennis quaid. i can persuade him.
8 - Greg Smyth
It says "Look here, a ring. Where's yours? Oh, sorry, forgot. If You See Her, Say Hello�"
Perfect, man. Perfect.
9 - Bennett
Kinda held off reading this, just knowing that it was there for me, when the time was right, when I had the time. So now its 95 fucking degrees outside, and I go out there to cool down.
There's a puddle of sweat on the floor under my chair, cause reading The Duke while eating hot shrimp soup in 110 degrees of humidity (the darkened room doesn't make it cooler you know) tends to make rivers and oceans run from all parts of my body.
But your words make me remember the cool breezes of Spring, annihilated by this brute of a Summer Sun that's baking my itchy feet in some kind of Inquisitorial torture.
But the memories you have me recall, memories of a time before the ground baked so hot that it cracked, those memories, they make me cooler for a while.
Thanks Duke.
10 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
Greg and Bennett, thank you!
Greg - sometimes Bob says all there is to say about any given situation, alas...
Bennett, i'm glad you enjoyed it, man. i always feel guilty after flinging stuff this self-indulgent online, but if it keeps those puddles runnin (hah) then what harm can there be? scacely ANY, i'd wager