Sunday, July 27, 2025

ZRH - SEA 26.07.25

 

I


jealous sons of mothers wrought

with seldom fathers who they brought

up to be just like their men

and sent the boys back home again


there is nothing in this world

that beats a boy who meets a girl

a narrative we love so much

as long as they pay double dutch


for all the frenzy of the hour

there isn’t much to feed your power

but power itself and that means nought

to those whose jealous sons are wrought


II


And so I sit here on a plane

wondering if the stewardess fancies me, or is she just being nice

obviously the second, but this is the sort of thing men think about

especially on a ten hour flight


I cried at the Zeppelin movie and a soppy romantic comedy also

But only because they played ‘True Love Will Find You in the End’

which must be the best song ever

even if it was only a cover version


The original by Daniel Johnston scares people

Probably becuase it’s not very well recorded and he was possessed by the devil

I’m also mad, mad, mad but not as weird probably, although I have been compared to him

which is nice, but not as nice as the stewardess


III


I started writing with the help of ChatGPT

When I say help I mean the way a student uses AI for help

As in I say I want to write something and it does it for me

But this writing isn’t written with the help of ChatGPT, partly because I’m on a plane

And partly because the fog has lifted and I can think again


IV


Was poem one in this collection a little pretentious?

At least it rhymes and sticks to the meter

Which I personally prefer in a poem, otherwise you can just sort of write whatever you want

Like Stewart Lee when he does that bit. 


V


Indigo sheepskin Trevor skogafoss

See I can write nonsense as well as the next man or woman or non-binary person

It’s easy enough and if it’s easy then why not do it. 

It takes a proper poet to keep rhyme and meter going and for it all to make sense. 

Perhaps this is prose. But I can’t write prose. Not really, at least not a story. Stories need arcs. Unlike life, which is just shit. I don’t mean that I’m sorry to all the young people, who may be reading. It’s actually pretty good. Especially if you have a bit of money or love or both. 


VI


The Epstein Files Trump thing

is in full-swing

In the States, where I’m going

Which I love for a non-specific reason


VII


The flight is really dragging, it’s only three hours left but I can tell this will be the worst three hours of my life

for a good while. 

So I’ve decided to start writing again. How much can I write in three hours? Or two hours an a bit because of course there’s landing and hopefully some kind of food or entertainment in between. This is most definitely not verse, it’s prose. It’s very self-referential or at least non-linear, non-narrative. I wrote a narrative song with help from ChatGPT the other day. It was great. But narrative isn’t really my forte. My forte is me. The Real Tim Chase.


VIII


People should probably be made aware of the whole Real Tim Chase thing. When I was in Holland we needed a name for my band and instead of calling it Tim Chase we called it The Real Tim Chase. Which is a bit like the Real Slim Shady or god help me @TheRealDonaldTrump. Why does Trump keep coming up? I think it’s because I’m on my way to America. The Land of the Free. Run by a paedo. Or lots of paedos as it’s a list. What a weird country. Anyway the Real Tim Chase, the name was thought up by name redacted, who thought it would be a good name. But then I went mad and actually thought I was this alter ego figure called the Real Tim Chase, which was scary and bizarre. Then I turned up at recording with a shaven head and sunglasses as the Real Tim Chase and proceeded to sabotage the whole thing, much to the chagrin of the other band members. But at least it was an event. Something to remember. Isn’t that the point of life. Living in the moment but sort of capturing it at the same time. That’s what films, instagram etc. prey on. We want to capture the moment in life but you can’t really do that unless you’re an artist. Like me and name redacted 2. Name redacted 1 and 2 are both friends of mine and I will unredact their names if and when. 


So anyway, this artist thing is really important to me. I don’t have anything else to identify as. And intellectuals need two things to function - intellectual structure, something to think in, and something to identify as. I can’t quite identify as an intellectual itself, because I don’t read enough books and frankly I’m not quite clever enough or maybe too clever for my own good. But artist is fine. 


I have a theory that there are three types of people. Or three boxes that you can fit in for example 50, 30, 20. The three boxes or types are engineers, philosophers and artists. I’m not an engineer. Most people are. Almost all successful people are, especially nowadays. They invented capitalism after all. For their own ends of course. Nothing wrong with that. I wouldn’t be able to go see my sister without planes and they need engineers and so on. I do however, feel that life would be somehow better if we didn’t have globalisation and just all lived in anarchist communes of not many people. Not sure how the State, like water supply or electricity would work, but it’s more a feeling than a thought. I’m more a feeler, see because I’m an artist, the rarest of the three. I think it’s better than Jung and Myers-Briggs and everyone else except Freud, who is the daddy. 


IX


To be honest, I could really do with a cigarette. Since when did smoking become uncool? Since when did being healthy become cool? It is so cool. I try to point out to people that it’s not very rock n roll to drink vegan milk but they don’t get it. Everyone wants the clean version in mature capitalism as pointed out by Zizek. Zizek is cool. I struggle with the idea that you can turn cool on its head, make it completely uncool and then because everybody is doing it, it becomes cool. It’s so boring. 


X


We need to manifest the next 2 hours away with some serious writing. Not serious writing about serious stuff, just writing. Don’t know why I said ‘serious’. For emphasis. Do you think name redacted will ever turn my life into a film? He probably should. I don’t know why not, he thought it was a joke when I said it the first time when I was mad. But it’s not a joke, I’m for real. I’m always for real, even when I’m mad. Authenticity just flows out of me. It’s just about the only thing I have left. That and smoking. Obviously not when I’m in a plane. 

Oh my god. I need a cigarette so much. I’ve had two coffees, two cokes, chewing gum and watched two films. But it ain’t enough. I need nicotine. This entry is becoming a bit obsessive. The editor says I should flesh things out more. Less repetition, more zoning in. OK so here goes - the artist lives in the moment. He is truly free. The philosopher is into structure and thinking and reading and thinking and uming and aahing. I would say I’m about 50 / 50. Engineer I’m like not at all. I haven’t met anyone who is less engineer than me. Name redacted who I’m going to… what’s with all this name redacted? Everybody knows who they are. But I sort of want to keep this impersonal. As if it’s a story, with a narrative, an arc. So anyway, name redacted 3 is an engineer, almmost totally. He’s very successful. We have no frame of reference. I like him though. He lives in his own little world as I do. But my world is really different to his. And that’s fine. He quoted Elon Musk, before Elon Musk was outed as a Nazi of course. You can’t support the patron saint of engineering if he’s a Nazi. Sort of obvious before the salute but I digress. 


XI


I love this pretentious Roman numerals instead of titles. It’s like they are chapters in a book. Which they are sort of, just really, really short chapters. That’s why I don’t write very often. Because I don’t write very much without veering off into unknown territory. Mmy brain just doesn’t work outside the moment. I need to flit from one thing to another and that’s what I like. 


XII


Two hours left. No cigarettes, no coffee in a while, no food for ages it seems. Can’t be bothered to watch another film or play Championship Manager. I’m listening to an American playlist. It’s Aretha right now, and before it was lots of country. I’m digging it. I’m sitting on my own in business. My Dad is behind me. I am literallly alone in a booth. It’s great. It’s great to have a rich Dad. I don’t know why I railed against it so much before. It’s actually great. Can you imagine going to America in economy? The best thing about business is watching all the poor people with their kids and bad dress sense have to walk past at the beginning. And the kids are like Daddy, why can’t we sit in Business. And Daddy is like because I’m a loser. But he doesn’t say that obviously. Because he has no balls. My Dad on the other hand has balls. I don’t have balls. I have literally no ambition. Oh great, they’re coming round with hot towels and drinks. I am going to get a coke and a coffee. Like a double hit. I need a cigarette so badly. Aretha has been going on for ages. Maybe it’s Ella, I confuse them sometimes. I do know the difference I just get confused. Am I manic? Maybe I should take a Relaxane. Oh great the next song is Cigarettes and Coffee. The stewardesses know I’m disabled. Unseen disability. I’m getting a wheelchair in Seattle. Could be a problem for someone else but I’m cool with it. If I was fat I’d get a wheelchair so why not if I’m mad. I’m not mad right now obviously, otherwise my writing wouldn’t make sense and it does. 


XIII


I didn’t realise it was possible to get bored of TV and films on planes. I used to sail through flights watching stuff but this time I just can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I need to do something creative. Destruction is a form of creation. But I’m not really in a position to destroy, being on a plane and all so writing will have to do. I’ve actually watched 3 films today. I’m Not OK and the Led Zeppelin film on the plane and one called the Edge of Seventeen because I woke up at 5am and didn’t really have anything else to do. Champ Man isn’t really the draw it’s been in years gone by, which is a shame because I could’ve done with a six hour stretch on the plane. OK so it’s writing and listening to music and drinking coke and coffee. Not so bad. Yes - Miles Davis has come on, something from the Paris period. This is making me relax and feel cool. Which as you might tell from my writing is very important to me. The French pronounce ‘important’, impotent. 


XIV


The guy across the aisle has been asleep forever. How do you sleep on planes? What’s the matter? Coca Cola is definitely the best drink. I don’t drink alcohol because of meds, but even if I did, I wouldn’t anymore. I love Coca Cola and smoking and coffee. But not this coffee. This coffee tastes American. I want an espresso. Give me an espresso. And a cigarette. I demand an espresso and a cigarette. In approximately three hours I will have my wish. I hate jazz where they sing. Why sing? It’s pointless. Coffees gone cold. The problem with writing. Not the only problem of course. The other problem is that you don’t get any money for it. Unless you’re a pro. Which I’m not. I’m an amateur. I like being an amateur. It’s very English. Very un-American. I’m very Un-American. I don’t want to live there but it’s great as a tourist. They just care so much. Apart from the slackers. 


XV


I’ve never listened to Hank Williams before. I mean it’s been on, but I’ve never really listened to it. It’s on now, out of choice and because I’m stuck in a plane on the way to Seattle. It fits, doesn’t it. It’s good. Country gets a bad rep outside of the red states. I don’t know why. It’s good. 


XVI


A child is making noise. Name redacted 4 at work warned me about this. He’s woken up. When did that happen? I like this writing it’s like an internal monologue. It’s what I do sometimes when I talk but it’s better because it’s writing and that gets recorded. I’m obsessed with recording stuff. For posterity. 

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