type today. Too much pain.
slowly regaining use of my hands. It hurts to type but I know you
all rely on me so I shall soldier on.
to apply protective grease before strapping myself to the roof of
the Winnebago for a surf. This proved to be a mistake.
Uma kept on driving for six hours, unable to hear my screams for
the Death Metal tape playing at full volume. By the time they pulled
over I had passed out from exposure to the elements. I awoke with
no sensation of any kind from the neck down and drool frozen to
my cheek, a droolcicle.
tells me that I passed out because the magic hat rejected
him saying - "If youre not in tune with the hat, the
hat will know, man. Youve gotta believe in the hat."
what little strength I had left to shout at Roland and Uma and tell
them my condition was probably less to do with a magic hat rejecting
me and more to do with being strapped half-naked to the top of a
speeding vehicle for six hours by two mad old hippies. They promised
to get me some help and left me lying on the floor of the Winnebago
with Murrays vivarium lamp thawing me out, and then I nearly
suffocated because Murray sat on my face to keep warm.
dropped me off at a hospital.
are sticking out of me and Im hooked up to a machine that
beeps. The nurse jokingly said if it stops beeping then Im
dead, I didnt find that very funny.
bad about shouting at Roland and Uma. They were following their
dream and I liked them for it. Its made me realise that one
persons idea of utopia is not necessarily the same as another
I know why this is.
and Uma spent their lives trying to attain a state of constant pleasure.
Having never been to Shropshire and experienced the fulfilment inherent
in living there, they stumbled blindly for many
trying various mystic disciplines before committing to the magic
hat thing. Now a lot of people are in the same condition as
Roland and Uma, they know have a need but they dont recognise
that yearning for deeper satisfaction for what it is. Instead they
mistake it for something less tangible and start messing around
with dream catchers, crystals, magnetic fields and magic hats when
all they really need to do is visit the West Midlands.
believe now that all people, no matter who they are or where they
come from, have a genetic predisposition calling them to the soft
bosom of Mother Shropshire. Perhaps its because Shropshire
is the only place where man has ever been truly happy; perhaps its
a homing instinct drawing them to something I dont understand,
something mystical, something truly magical that only exists in
Shropshire. Whatever it is, I know now more than ever that I need
to educate people, stop them wasting time looking in the wrong places
when all they want is waiting for them just down the M54.
a dream today, Shropshire rose up like a kindly giant, green and
towering and smiling from a thousand lips. It grew and embraced
the world, smothering it with love, pressing down joy and peace,
holding tight until the goodness had suffused the whole world and
there was nothing left but one continent, one people, one Shropshire.
All the people of this new world did nothing but play Bingo and
watch Countdown and were really, really nice to each other. Then
Richard Whitely, King of the new world, made people do conundrums,
even the ones who werent very good at English and harshly
punished the ones who couldnt guess the word in less than
the painkillers Im on are making me go a bit peculiar.
better today; I can feel my feet now. The nurse has been asking
why Im typing on my little palmtop and I explained about my
life quest. Shes called Alice and looks ever-so-slightly like
Sebastian Newbold Coe, only with longer hair and a nurses
uniform and shes probably slower at running. I asked Alice
if she had any suggestions for where I should travel next, she told
me I wouldnt be going anywhere for a while yet.
inspiration, I need a sign.
nurse, Barry, came and saw me just now, I asked him about leaving
and apparently I can discharge myself if I want, but they advise
nurse, her surname apparently is Springs Alice Springs. I
think they may be some sort of sign. I asked Barry what his surname
was- Its Areef Barry Areef. Thats good enough
for me, my mind is made up, and as soon as I can Im flying
Shropshire really does exude a supernatural aura of goodness, then
surely the people most in need of my help are those furthest away
from its positive powers, and geographically Australia is
as far away from Shropshire as you can get without going into orbit.
a minor skirmish with hospital security, Ive discharged myself
and feel absolutely fine, though I do still have a couple of clear
plastic tubes sticking out of my arm. My flight to Alice Springs
leaves tonight, goodbye America, gday Australia.
on the plane. Its quite a long flight.
in-flight movie is "Daredevil", its an action/special
effects extravaganza about a blind lawyer who gains superpowers
after getting covered in radioactive fluid, its not as good
as "Gone To Earth".
Im still on the plane, we landed somewhere for a while but we
were not allowed to get off the plane. I chance planes once more before
we land at Alice Springs airport.
some turbulence, the woman sat next to me has woken up and is panicking,
I comfort her with tales of Shropshire, and she quickly falls asleep
Ive landed, the great outback stretches out before me, and
Im as far away from Shropshire now as I can physically be.
My beloved Moreton Say is now on the other side of the planet and
the barren wilds of Australia await my compassionate touch and nurture.
I have extensive knowledge of Australia, its people and customs,
having studied Neighbours and Home And Away for many years, so I
feel fully equipped to deal with anything Oz might throw at me.
very, very hot here. I buy a thermos to keep my bingo markers cool
in, they were beginning to melt.
I do better here than I did in America.