A Shortcut to Mushrooms

Drugs, I've done a few. I have left reality behind and sampled temporary insanity on a few occasions. The brain is clearly not to be fucked with, holding on to reality when the effects of acid or too many magic mushrooms are pumping round your head is impossible to control. These drugs are way too powerful. I remember feelings and emotions getting magnified to a level too intense to bear, one minute far too happy and the next in the depths of depression, worry and paranoia. The ups and downs of micro manic depression took place within the blink of an eye. One one occasion, after too many mushrooms and in an uncontrollable state of paranoia, there was knock at the door, it was the police, I freaked. But of course this meant I had a reason to be paranoid, it wasn't the drugs after all. I also remember on this occasion the kitchen stretching off into infinity, which is pretty cool really. You're probably thinking; "what the fuck was he thinking? This sounds like hell!" Well there is a method to this madness. My first hallucinogenic trip took place as a teenager. A friend of mine at the time had a load of magic mushrooms, these I had to try. After taking shit loads I was disappointed to find nothing was happening, so we smoked a load of sticky black instead and I eventually went home stoned off my head to my parents. It was about four or five on a Saturday afternoon, I was watching Dickie Davis round off Sports Day with my Dad in the front room. Dad was in his chair, he's still there to this day, just like Davis's Moustache. I remember the boring patterned covering on Father's chair, the covering was a dull green with even duller horizontal and vertical corduroy outlines forming an irregular pattern of squares and rectangles. I glanced over at dad and it was then that to my amazement the crappy chair had suddenly come to life. The dull corduroy stripes were now bright red. Result. At this juncture I realised it was time to retreat to the confines of my then bedroom.

My parental home is a rather quaint thatched cottage in Devon. And as such this means that walls and ceilings are never even; covered in lumps, oak beams, and bumps; decorating is a pain. The place has character and seems to have a life of its own; a four hundred year old life. Shortly after entering my room and lying face up on my bed with my Furguson Tower System blasting Ritchie Blackmore's Difficult to Cure, I notice the room coming to life. First the paint on the ceiling starts to kind of shift and smudge, it moves up and down like it's breathing. Okay, now shit is happening, I glance over at the walls. The wallpaper in my room at the time was a simple brown flower outline pattern on a white background repeated in vertical fashion, so you could trace the same patern from top to bottom. What happened I will never forget. In the years that followed I tried repeatedly to get back to this moment, but it never happened, this was the basis for the method to my madness. From the ceiling the most amazing vibrant rainbow colours fell and uniformly filled the pattern on the wallpaper. They gushed from the ceiling like a waterfall of colour, ran all the way down the wall and disappeared in to the carpet, which by now was heaving.

By this time I am laughing hysterically, I've gone mental but I don't give a shit. Blackmore is sounding very strange but I'm loving it. I glance back up a the ceiling, my head hits the pillow. Why are the neon minature people doing a tango to Blackmore in my Attic? And more importantly where did that mountain range come from? You see there was a whole other world in the attic of our old cottage, a neon fantasy landscape where people made of light tangoed the night away to heavy metal. A world where uncharted neon capped mountains stretched off into an infinite distance and beacons of light stretched off uniformly into nowhere. And the wallpaper, the psychedelic wallpaper, perhaps the world in my attic is feeding the wallpaper with colour? Yes that's it. The colour is now saturating the carpet, the hysteria continues, the colour moves closer to my bed. Where is it going? It gets even closer, it's going to envelop the bed and then me and I will become part of this new world, I will be absorbed into this new dimension. I will be neon, i will tango with my new neon friends to Blackmore. The colour pours like a torrent from the ceiling, soaks the carpet and encases my bed touches my hands and starts to retreat. The bed sheets return to their cream colour, the colour in the carpet washes out. The waterfall of colour slowly dries up, the mountains crumble away, the lights fade and the dancers slowly vanish. My hysteria falls away and I find myself back in my cottage bedroom, I go downstairs, Dad is still in his chair, I watch Bullseye with him. And I never return to that special place.

The words of James Cann

James Cann now married living in a small village with his family in Devon will undoubtedly be responsible for future entries in the Oxford English Dictionary. Words and phrases coined by Cann in the late seventies through to the mid-nineties took resonance with the Devonshire locals and his peers. His self made lifestyle led to a distinct distaste for "wasters" and those not "pulling their weight." This coupled with an emotional restraint and a quirky but harmless temper led to an artistic Tourette like ability to insult individuals at the core of their being without them knowing or having a clue as the severity of the insult.

Words and Phrases

Wondering Nomad Lapp.
This lies at the core of the Cann philosophy that states that we are all responsible for ourselves and need little help from others. Cann firmly held the view that anyone on unemployment benefit is a twat and should get a job. This phrase refers to those whom are somewhat lost in life, having no motivation, drive or commitment -i.e. a hippy.

Use; "that boy is a bloody wondering nomad lap -he'll make no good of himself"

Pakes
This is a very difficult word spell, the spelling of which has been a subject of contention for a number of years. Even Cann who created this word in collusion with his close friend Mark Styles in the early eighties has no idea has to spell it. However a number of scholars have recently decided on the above connotation. On pronunciation the "a" in "pakes" is somewhat intonated.

Use; "oh you fucking pakes, what have you done?"

Winky
A "winky" is derivation of "wanker" though the meaning holds no relationship betwen the two words and such a somewhat less offensive word is created. Winky may refer to a weakness in the context of camp or a lacking physical strength or unmanly presence. This word is usually thrown at those who appear weak, not confident and annoying or arrogant with it.

Use; "he's a bit of a winky he is" or "you winky twat"

Winkyshatstain
This takes "winky" implants a greater insult through use of more common swear word derivation. With this clever insult Cann was able not only to clearly indicate his dislike for weakness and lack of Independence in people, but also confuse individuals by implanting the thought in the recipients mind, which went something like this;

"mmm..shatstain? what is that? Shit -is that what he means? But surely shit is not that effective when it comes to staining? Did that bastard call me a shit stain? no, can't be, shit does not stain...does shit stain?"

And so forth. This invariably leaves the subconscious of the of the insulted in a confused, fragile, unsure and damaged state.

Berger

A paint company
In 1760, a young colour chemist "Lewis Berger" developed a method for manufacturing Prussian blue using a secret process that every designer and householder coveted. His business was nurtured by his descendants and others till it merged with Jenson and Nicholson Ltd. to form Berger, Jenson & Nicholson Limited. www.bergerpaints.com

A card game
The origins of Berger stem from my early teens when I was fortunate enough to own a pack of Berger branded playing cards. I think I must of offered my good Friend Dave a card (or he me) in the style of a crap magician. On Dave or myself taking the card and confidently guessing what it was and invariably geting it wrong one of us said "berger." Then we repeated the process for no apparent reason.

Have a go...
Fan a pack of cards and say to someone "pick a card, any card." You then say what you think the card is. Obviously you guess wrong -this is when you say "berger." If by chance you get it right then you also say "berger" as well. Or -the other person can say "berger" or maybe both -the possibilities are limitless...


Express yourself
"you're really bergered now mate"
"oh berger -I've done it again"
"you've gone and bergered it right up you twat"
"look at the bergers on that"

Up or Down

I have invented a new game and it's called Up or Down.

What you need
You need at least two players and you need to be travelling on double decker bus. This game will not work on single deckers.

Objectives
The players sit at the back of a lower deck of a bus, on any route and for a previously determined amount of stops. At each stop players take in turns guessing weather passengers, on paying the driver, will go upstairs or or remain downstairs. The one with the most correct guesses wins.

Scope
The scope of the game is quite wide from a simple two player game through to multi play championship leagues. As well as this, teams can strategise by deciding opponents times and routes with in an agreed framework.


Basic rules
1. As a passenger boards players must verbally indicate up or down before a ticket is taken or bus pass validated by the driver
2. Correct answer is worth one point
3. Answers cannot be reversed after ticket is issued or bus pass validated
4. Players are responsible for keeping their own score in a sporting manner
5. Players must toss a coin to decide who chooses route(s) and/or who goes first.
6. Players must agree a route and/or amount of stops before starting the game