Adam Closs

The Death of Widget « Adam Closs

The Death of Widget Some fifteen days ago now, a moment in which I am sitting behind the wheel of my van, parked. In the back of the van lies Widget. He has been ill for a few weeks and now can hardly walk. I had to move out of my temporary accommodation today in a hurry ... —

Humanity « Adam Closs

Humanity. News; program glitch, being inhuman is the same as being human. Rant. A person was getting buried a few days ago, there was an obituary which stated that they had ‘humanity’. It was a compliment. So I thought I’d see what the program is in the system as the definit... —

Typewriters to the Queen « Adam Closs

A memory comes up with the scent of dead geraniums. It is 1971 and here is the clack clack clack of a mechanical type-writer smacking impressions of letters through an inky ribbon onto the paper. I loved the elegance of this machine. It was like one of the prizes of the indust... —

Liar « Adam Closs

Liar Well anyone who claims they don’t understand what self-honesty is must be a fucking liar. Why would I be afraid to write that sentence, except that I seem to be setting myself up as having ‘transcended’ being this liar which I am projecting on to others. But this is a o... —

no story « Adam Closs

A linear write-out, no story here whatsoever, no pincer movement, not self contained, extending it’s tendrils about itself like a basket. Deleting the thought as I walk past the brambles, I slow down my pace, I feel the pressure of the earth on my feet. I am taking in a slow b... —

The X Files « Adam Closs

Believing in the X files of my secret mind which tell me that ‘the’ truth is ‘out there’, I go searching in the ‘news’, the ‘sun’, the ‘times’ the mirror of the ‘world’ which is am me, that’s ok I tell myself because it’s all ‘out there’,  ’not me’, I lie again, and t... —

Adam Closs « Adam Closs

latest post: 18th April 2010 ‘X’ blog intro Post 9/11. Having got involved in research into conspiracy theory, I came to a point of seeing how consistently all the different strands of it fitted together. That was taboo. That realisation put me in the eyes of others firmly ... —

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