Luddite Shutter No. 9

...just some more shots i took using my grandfather's old Exakta Varex. These are 400 speed, B + W. Shot at 100, or 150. Over early May 2010:

Backyard science....

Luddite Shutter No. 8

...just some more shots i took using my grandfather's old Exakta Varex. These are 400 speed, B + W. Shot at 100, or 150. Over early May 2010:

Wassup Mullens!!

...dirty lurkin with Simmo and stumbled upon...:

WTF Mullens?

Luddite Shutter No. 7

...just some more shots i took using my grandfather's old Exakta Varex. These are 400 speed, colour film. Shot at 100, or 150. Over late April 2010:

David Durham - gothic surrealist

....so i am talking with an old mate on Facebook, when one of my old-mate's friends gets involved. His name is David Durham, ans as far as i can tell, he writes some amazing off the wall surreal gothic prose. I cut-paste David's storey below:

David Durham - 'The Saga of the Long Toe Nail'

Josh, my Aunt had a distant relative who never cut his toenails. The guy weighed well over 500 pounds and his nails grew in a curve until they were under his feet so that he walked on them. He never wore shoes. So there's trouble if you do and trouble if you don't!

America, perhaps we can convince Josh to give this a try and then we can see just how springy and practical toenail cushioned feet become. Harking back to the previous topic, my aunt's relative was totally idle. He sat on the front porch of a tumble-down farmhouse and where locals and tourists alike came to gawk at his remarkable toenail growth. He never had a bad nail day.

I was taken to the nail guy's farmhouse in rural Missouri when I was just a boy, about 9 years old. There were other children there and we played games while the adults chatted listening to back woods fiddling and country music. There were two things that frighten me that day, the nail guy and the outhouse (toilet), and these stuck in my ... See morememory. People arrived and spoke with the nail guy who remained seated on the porch, an icon of idleness. We kids would run up to the porch take a quick look and then run off giggling, somewhat thrilled but mostly frighten. i probably resolved that day to bathe my feet and cut my nails regularly, but I don't know how long my resolve lasted. As a boy I was fond of dirt, anything that crawled was slimy and smelt bad. Yeah, I think he should have marketed that scum as a modeling paste, something for kids to mess around with.

The nail guy had an interesting demise. I've told America, but It may be a bit too long of a story for facebook. I'll give it a try in my next post. You're probably right about the petrol. You know everyone is considering how we night drive farther on less fuel. Where is everyone going anyway? I think this may be a perfect justification of ... See morethe idlers life style. Everyone should remain in his or her pajamas until well after work hours. The Gross National Product is purely the invention of economists so that they might be employed. Bunglers and Loafers Unite!

My aunt was fond of telling of the nail guy's demise. There was some difficulty in getting the body out of the farmhouse because of the nail man's size and doors had to be removed, she said. It had been decided to leave the nail man's body indoors until a large burial crate could be built, and then using a wheeled cart the body was transported ... See morethrough doorless openings. I recall, my aunt actually grunting as she described the group of men lifting the body to the cart. A truck was used to deliver the body to the cemetery the undertaker was concerned about the undercarriage springs on the hearse, something my Aunt told with some family pride. According to her the undertaker did nothing to the body, and it was buried in those giant sized bib overalls he was wearing when he died. It seems my aunt had a feud going with the local undertaker. She had objected to the way he made her mother look in the casket and for many years went about alternating between cursing and sobs over the event. It somehow pleased her that the undertaker was cut out nail guy's funeral, and the local sharif and volunteers laid the nail guy to rest. This all took place on a pig farm near Louisiana Missouri not far from Hannibal in the heart of Tom Sawyer country. As a kid of nine, I kind of imagined that I would run in to Tom, Huck and Nigger Jim

...well there you go!