Author: theroyalist

Either that screensaver goes…

The Middle Eastern journalist Jerrold Kessel played cricket for the Israeli national team in the 1970’s. Mr. Kessel died earlier this year. Much admired for his even-handed approach to the Israel/Palestine dispute and for his TV contributions for CNN, Jerrold never lost his love for the sport he played. As he was dying he told friends he was playing for a draw and near the end he remarked. “The fielders are closing in.” Continue reading “Either that screensaver goes…”

March Confidential winner

Thanks to everybody for the excellent wide-ranging batch of stories. Reading them all in one go instead of the usual when they’re published way is rewarding indeed. A word of commiseration to granviller for missing out at the last moment.

Bearsy notwithstanding, it was funny reading the interpolations (hark at me) of the word snake into your scripts. In hindsight I wished I’d made it giraffes. Some other time, perhaps and furthermore maybe they’ll make a film called Giraffes on a Plane. Right, down to business. Continue reading “March Confidential winner”

Wrong way around the roundabout

Sipping from my circular-shaped mug of tea I deducted that lists of various Top Ten’s of this and that are tedious and tendentious. Top ten to-do lists (resolutions by another name) are invariably not done or incomplete. Listings can be a turn-off. Continue reading “Wrong way around the roundabout”

The Landlord is always right

The meeting of blowhards was in full swing. There we were, in a pub, a pub that none of us had been thrown out of. Yet. Discussing the various ejections from other bars because of misadventures. In the company I keep, being thrown out of a saloon is a badge of honour. The Wild West we like to call it.

Billy Hiccup recounted the number of staff that hurled him from the Bull Bar. It took hic of them, he said. Then Dad Longworth Continue reading “The Landlord is always right”

March Confidential (C/W competition)

Good evening.

I didn’t realise the difficulties in setting up a competition. With great power comes great responsibility (Stan Lee…again). After discarding hackneyed taxi ideas and wearing out lots of crayons, this is the best I can come up with for the March creative writing competition.

Rock Hudson was a Hollywood star with a very secret private life, Nick Leeson was a trader that kept his dealings from his firm. The theme will be about someone or thing (institution, golf club, whatever) having a secret they take great pains at to hide. Eventually, the truth will out. It’s your decision if it ends up good or bad.
To complicate matters I’d like to see the word snakes used in the script either metaphorically or literally (just an excuse to give Snakes on a Plane another plug).

The pressure of judging will be new to me, though I am looking forward to reading lots of entries. Happy writing, everyone, go on, pick those crayons up.

Usual rules apply. 2,000 words. Closing date is the last day in March.

The Fighter

The robbers always seem to be one step ahead of the cops in the online world. For nothing, that is i.e. no money, you can download free music, movies, and books. The entertainment industry is in free fall as everything is just a few mouse clicks away. Only the other day a friend offered me 1,001 e-books –all modern classics- to view on my computer via a USB stick if I wanted and free of charge. Naturally, I …refused.

To help the ailing film industry I am regular movie-goer. Continue reading “The Fighter”

Chrome-wheeled, fuel-injected…Born to Stroll

A charlatan I know swears that you don’t need to pay parking tickets. He claims that he receives tickets all the time and ignores them. The costs on taking him to court are not worth the council’s time, he says and adds that loopholes in legislation should be exploited. I disagree with him as without law and order there would be chaos and uprising followed by a resumption of law again so what’s the point in revolution.

My principles were tested to the full yesterday when a driver parked on the zig-zag lines at a traffic crossing. Immediately, I swung into my assumed character as an off-duty Traffic Warden and the only thing stopping me from rebuking the errant driver was his mode of transport: it was a tractor. Continue reading “Chrome-wheeled, fuel-injected…Born to Stroll”

A post-Valentine post

I asked my love to give me shelter
And all she offered me were dreams
Of all the moments spent together
That move like never ending streams
(Yes- Run through the Light) Lyric by Trevor Horn.

On the cusp of adulthood being young and in love is a wonderful feeling. I took my love one autumn evening for a walk in the local golf course. We had been courting awhile and our relationship was at the heavy petting level. Winshing is what the old ones would call it. We were fourteen year old and in love. Continue reading “A post-Valentine post”

The Ribbon of death

It had been a few months since we last held a meeting. The authorities had cracked down hard on our activities and our band of disenfranchised rebels was dwindling. As I still retained my membership I was summoned to an extraordinary reunion of the Ribbonmen.

The venue chosen brought tears to my eyes. It was in this holy place that I said a final goodbye to my kid brother. Everybody loved Gerry, from the little kids to the old rummies. He never got mixed up in schemes of Nationalism. Gerry was always exploring, on the move making new friends but the Good Lord had taken him in the prime of his life.
Continue reading “The Ribbon of death”