Underworld, Overworld, Middlewold. By Stevie in the MiddleHaston.

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I'ave been busy recently with my plans for a coup at Davos, where I will kidnap the King Gnomes of Industry, Trade, and Banking, and lock them in an unbreakable Castle made of Adamantine.

 Medlar is in bloom, where ever you had the Medler you had the Romans before.

Lots of swimming by myself, and a little "light" soloing leads you into a very simplistic way of thinking that is as clear as the waters, and the sky. Things have reached a "pretty pass"
as they say, the lunatics are in charge of the asylum, and the Vandals are at the gates, or are expected to crash the dull boring silver spoon in the mouth party.

 A sky clear and fresh, like they do sometimes, hope springs eternal, but is often a hopeless enterprise.

 Boots, the foundation..these are the Drago a bit narrower than the Chimera.

 Dustin, a young lad, discovering his arms and a new sport.

 Ben a young writer, come to see me, no flies on him, his head moving fast there, like his brain.

Ben a bit paler in the Underworld now, looking down away from the 8a.

Ben has been nice company, over an introduction, he handed me a copy of the Guardian, which looked like a pop paper/rag, Boy f….ing George at the top of the Head lines, when he has done feck all to help the world, as Ben said rather vacuously at least he's wearing a nice hat. I have read Boy Georges biography (strangely enough) and it was a story, a life , but really nothing of major importance, he was a talented singer, thats all. What has happened to great institutions like the Guardian? Underneath theBoy George thingy and something about X Factor Factit Winners was news of the latest Borris Johnson gaff, and a doctored photo of Trump arm in arm with the Klu KluxClan-what need of Fake news when the politicians, and photographers do it for you? And helps them all along!