Goner: Oil on Canvas, Charonaletto (2008)
Editorial Note:
The work first appeared under the Title: “Where is my fucking sword?” but The Institute of Topers rejected the work until the title was changed to something more suitable. My half-brother Charonaletto is a complete tart and changed the title immediately he got the readies.
Is this Malory’s Mort de Charon?
I sincerely hope that both the Archbishop and the esteemed artist got it wrong.
just after the hand clothed in white samite caught the last bottle of rioja and disappeared beneath the waves
But Charon, who ferrys the ferryman?
NL…. I have alternative work as a dead body…. see GL’s blog… but…. I am capable of multi-tasking…. up to a point… and we don’t want anyone connected with Heathrow Terminal Five handling my departure… so I am doing it myself…
BUT….. I have a new ‘Apprentice’… (infra… and I know you know what ‘infra’ means. … but… I worry, post-Woolf, that there will be a generation of lawyers who won’t have a clue what cur.adv.vult and infra / supra / ibid mean… and why should they?
***
Modern legal education is about ‘information’ not knowledge (some say!) …. and… so some of us say….down on the banks of the River Styx this night
In terms of the Heathrow T5 reference…. my dead body… lying among a whole pile of suitcases… would not be good…. Not going to get onto any news channel… let alone Channel Five with Natsaha Kaplinski….
SW…. I threw a sword into the lake… not a bottle of Rioja… there are limits.
John…. I quite enjoy being dead tonight….. takes a bit of getting used to…. I thought it was a good bit of art…. may put it up for an award…. Fortunately I did not marry the lady stroking my head… she had a pre-nup…. she gets the sword….
Andrew…. Indeed… … I have to do it quite often… I made sure, after doing a 12 week interview from hell… through my version of ‘The Apprentice’…. that I found the right person…. a very nice chap called Nicholas… did well on the BVC… so he should be able to hack ferrying my newly dead body across the river….. trouble is… he can’t count… so forgot the silver coin… Young people for you… probably been doing too much binge drinking… Michael… row the boat ashore… adds a poignant touch tonight…
I shall, of course…. rise again… perhaps (?)
‘SW…. I threw a sword into the lake… not a bottle of Rioja… there are limits.’
yeah right! that’s what bedivere tried to make us think, too.
And I, the last, go forth companionless,
And the days darken round me, and the years,
Among new men, strange faces, other minds.
Blimey! Tennyson now…
I may do some Kafka next, Andrew!
or, perhaps a bit of cheerful stuff from Gerald Manley Hopkins….
Hi Charon,
Perhaps you should also listen to some Leonard Cohen, for that extra SPECIAL ambiance….!
no not bloody gerard manley hopkins; what possible justification could there have been for someone not killing him when he first learned to write and saving us all the shite he was then to come up with.
have we checked whether kafka is allowed???
Maybe cheer yourself up with a read of Sartre’s hilarious comic novel ‘Nausea’…
sample lines…
Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that’s all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked onto days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition
You gotta laugh…
😀
Andrew: Indeed…
I’m joining Nihilists Anonymous…. soon
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