7 of 9 – a sonnet.

Seven Of Nine
It has to be said, sweet Seven-Of-Nine,
You’re in my head: infatuation.
And if only I could I’d make you mine –
indulge my physical fascination:
I’d start at the top, and work my way down,
and where it would stop I’m not really sure.
I’d keep on going till I almost drown,
always knowing that I’d be back for more.
I’d loose myself; be consumed by you;
the ultimate stealth: to be deep inside.
Waiting, breathless, to hear those words from you:
“Resistance is useless; You must comply.”
And maybe in time something more would come
if Seven-Of-Nine could be two as one.

 

7 of 9

The Non-Feminist Declaration

Law of Markets

Sent to me to sign.

We are living in interesting times. Feminist entrenchment in many sectors is yielding toxic fruit – with the “equal pay” vanguard securing equal salaries for women responsible for less work than men in similar positions, increasing censorship and attacks on personal freedoms (of women as well as men), and the #MeToo/anti-harassment movements claiming innocent scalps and even lives. However, awareness of and opposition to Feminism is undoubtedly growing and, with some nurturing, this diverse non-feminist sector could well become an operable political force.

I have worked with a team on constructing ‘The Non-Feminist Declaration’ (included at the bottom of this email) which we hope can unite our disparate sector around a shared goal and assist in the public awareness and opposition raising process.

Our intention is to send it to The Times, as a letter, on Monday 9th July with a number of signatories. If…

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Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!

I am a liar… a bad one.

Just like the magician, the artist is in the game of deception and illusion. A painting of a tree looks nothing like a tree – For one thing it’s two dimensional, almost, and in that sense could be no less like a tree. But a tree is what you will believe you are seeing.

The artist and the magician are exactly the same in one very particular sense:

If they showed you how the illusion is achieved you would be both unimpressed and disappointed.

Abracadabra!

But what I want, what I really, really want is to zizazig, ahhhh!

Delete The Alphabet

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I deleted Facebook ages ago, and have just done the same with Twitter after several years of being shadow banned, Twitter throttled, and muted by many no doubt. I got rid of my Google account too, which in turn gets rid of Pinterest, Instagram and possibly some other accounts that are now owned by monolithic companies such as Google, Amazon, Apple and Facebook.

Youtube was amazing when it first arrived but that was profoundly short lived. Now it is nothing more than a bad TV channel full of pop music, adverts and propaganda. The first 4 or 5 years were the glory days: No advertising and no corporate presence – just people making videos. It was phenomenal, which is why, in my opinion, it was taken over by Google and the ‘powers that shouldn’t be’. There are still good channels on Youtube and if it wasn’t for Google those channels would be on the home page, but instead the homepage is solely populated by TV, movie and pop performers. Twitter is nothing but white noise signifying naught. Pinterest and Instagram were always for morons. And as for Tumblr… well, what can one say? Like feminism it’s cancer.

I simply could not maintain self respect while still having accounts with these evil scumbag sites, and the vile specimens of humanity that own and run them.

I would say it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been for a very long time.

Laters taters!

Bear with me….

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This is Little Deano Bear aka LDB. He is my house-mate, studio-assistant, food taster and asker of strange questions. He has also modelled for me to draw and paint and sculpt, and can sit surprisingly still for such a mischievous bear.

Here he is in one of the first drawings he sat for

Little D sketch (2015_09_28 11_13_35 UTC).jpg

And here he is being very patient while I sculpt

Lildeano sculpture (1).JPG

The finished piece

lildeanobear sculpture.jpg

Now all painted and eyes put in

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He can also sometimes be a very thoughtful bear

lildeanobear the thinker.jpg

You can follow LDB on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/LilDeanoBear?lang=en for updates on his daily antics. And I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t 😉

And his big brother is on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/Deano_bear?lang=en

The Deano Bears have recently set up a blog too: https://deanobears837325318.wordpress.com/

If it wasn’t for this little bear I think I’d go quite mad! 😉

Time Is Not Told By Watches

Time is not told by watches,
past my best-before date: see end.
Movement restricted by cells,
I see only dull things.

Here I am,
protest,
breathing more uneasy.

The vows I made
recede, slow as gums.
We meet again
for the first time,
and I re-breathe
your warm smile.

Teeth, no longer my own,
made of resin,
they fit too well.

The Void in The Vacuum,
no singing,
no floating;
there is a word for this.

time_by_gaeadances-d5lu3sc (2015_09_28 11_13_35 UTC).jpg

This and other poems are available in The Heart and The Hand: UK
https://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Heart-Hand-Dean-Harkness-ebook/dp/B005OAX0VM/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1387359721&sr=1-4&keywords=The+Heart+and+The+Hand

USA https://www.amazon.com/dp/B005OAX0VM

© Dean Harkness 2018

My bonnie lies over the ocean.

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Spring is sprunging and it’s a wonderful feeling (whether you like it or not) and it could be more wonderful in so many ways but for the grace of God. Not least of all is time apart from my other half who lives in Sweden and should be here by now or soon, but sadly probably won’t be for a while as we can’t afford it. We try to be together every two or three months but sometimes it’s just not doable as we are both arty types and don’t earn any extra with our work. Still, we have the technology to keep in touch, and absence makes the heart grow fonder.

The bears miss each other too 🙂

IMG_7637 (2015_12_23 20_54_24 UTC)

With a bit of luck, and if I pull my finger out and get some work done, we can hopefully book a flight in the not-too-distant future and get back to cooking on the fire and getting drunk in the garden.

Laters taters!

¦¬)