The Croats message

The famous Croatian cricketer, Morove von Moraustivch never knew when to stop! Once he got started on something; like, playing golf, watching Star Trek episodes, or eating imported gourmet Parisian cheese, he would just go on, and on, and on until he passed out from either sheer exhaustion or tears. Having experienced this problem since early childhood, Morove ingeniously developed several plans and contingencies to protect himself from potentially going overboard, and creating some serious problems for himself and the community. These plans included, having his alter-ego Jerry slip some sleeping pills into his soup for gentle sedation, having his local civic-centre secretary phone him with a secret word that would send him into a temporary trance-like fetal state, and in extreme circumstances, telepathically send a message through time and space to his younger self; explaining his current situation, and demanding that he immediately travel forward into the future, and throw a bucket of ice cold water over his irrepressible self.

a circular condition

The rampant hula hooping which was so out of control, it caused the towns people to no longer see, hear, think, or act in a regular, coherent, or linear fashion. All they could perceive were things which entailed circular concepts and motions - like rolling a tire down the street, bowling, and of course hula hooping! Yes, this made simple everyday challenges such as making vegemite on toast, driving the kids to school, and mowing the lawn damn near impossible, but you have to understand that these beginning, middle and end activities are just non circular concepts designed to stop people from the rampant hula hooping....

crust

All my life I have loved and respected the thick, dependable and righteous crust - particularly the exquisite and crunchy ecstasy of a baguette's crust, a quality piece of sourdough crust, or a bagel's impossibly moist yet crunchy sesame-seed covered crust. Moreover, I've always been bewildered, and on occasion even felt ripped off, when certain individuals have felt the need to remove the crust from a piece of bread I was to indulge in! My mother (the courageous woman she is) always included the crust for me and my brother, as she understood and respected what a vital part of one's character it personified! I mean, to be deprived of a crust is to be deprived of the sturdy and fibrous boarders needed for one to safely and freely express themselves. Yes, a sense of home, belonging, security, and warmth is what the crust is; it is where I came from, where I shall live, and where I shall return with total commitment, reverence and contentment.

a little rock

The protagonist was not who we thought it to be. No, all along it was the humble and silent rock, sitting in an old woman's garden in Reservoir. The rest of the promising people were just players who have come and gone over the millennia; just insignificant little ants preparing the scenery for the great story of rock. This isn't to say that rock has been idle all this time - god no, he has in fact been dreaming of pretty coloured fish in the ocean, swirly rainbow lollipops, and tirelessly planning for possible post apocalyptic scenarios; where in a desolate and mossless future he may have to rule the lands with a granite fist, command armies, and be worshiped by 200,00 sexy wives who will happily shatter the brittle bones of his mortal enemies and prorockcreate the earth with his salubrious minerals. Yes, rock has endured quietly to this day and now it is time that we move aside, pay our dues and let rock take over all consciousness. Whether he wishes to turn all sensation into abrasive texture like his ocean rock brethren, or a smooth, soft to the skin, texture like his river rock sistren; well, that is his choice and not for us to interfere. We should only give our hearts, body and soul to thee, and be thankful that the fate of the world relies in such a noble and resolved entity.

spasmodic liquid metal and the thick black goo

A thick black goo spreads across all the universe, infiltrating the furthest reaches of conscious thought - whilst, slowing down all electrical activity, powering down all substations, and muting all vibrations to mere frozen shadows. But it ain't so bad - as long as you don't try and resist it that is. Meanwhile, travelling through space at speeds unknown to mankind; a super-thin, sharp, metal object is violently wobbling and slicing its way through the universe  - fighting for space against all other matter that ever was or could be. Sometimes I feel like reaching into my head, puling this spasmodic silvery thing out, and asking what the deal is? - but how could I seriously contemplate such a thing without first understanding it's contours, smell, and origin?

i will never be caught by the bearded man in the flannelette jacket.

The best thing about being a praying mantis, is that you have the power to stay one step ahead of the bearded hunter; who, is forever chasing you through his enclosed, infinite and impossible private complexes. So remember, no matter how deadly he may be or how close he may get, one must have faith that the mantis will stealthily move through level to level, room to room, object to object, without ever being caught. Of course, being a praying mantis can feel strange and even lonely at first, but be reassured that over the years we learn to find confidence then comfort in its certainty - and a once vivid game of dread will slowly fade into a background game of survival.