This is Dr David Coddingsteine's Typepad Profile.
Join Typepad and start following Dr David Coddingsteine's activity
Join Now!
Already a member? Sign In
Dr David Coddingsteine
Leeds, UK
I am not a doctor.
Interests: Beer, porn, fried chicken.
Recent Activity
And so much for esoteric, emo poetry bollocks... Okay, it's time to get honest and down to the nuts and bolts here. Nearly three weeks ago, I moved from Leeds in West Yorkshire to Dawlish in Devon. Those close to me will know the active details if not the reasons... Continue reading
Novelty and beauty wear off. They don't teach you that. But it happens. For some of us. For some of us, the magic fades. For some people, the energy and energising wonder will become inaccessible, as though it never really existed at all. Memory is an escaping wisp of a... Continue reading
No man is free who has ever truly perceived of a city, together with all of its peoples, and its complications and logistics and waterways and avenues of transport and factories and shop fitting services and schools and warehouses and post offices and street sweepers and pregnant teenagers and pets... Continue reading
And the time comes in waves. And the sickness comes in waves. And you are never aware of what day it is. When you pay attention to the time it is always further along than you had expected. Except in the night, when you awaken in the darkness to discover... Continue reading
1.) A lush, green, fertile reality. David strode, or possibly glided, up the heavily wooded slope. Is this a valley? A ridge? A creek? Where am I? Those are inappropriate questions. What is this music? An incessantly undulating, synthesised, keyboard organ refrain. Like a roller rink or a fairground ride...... Continue reading
And to step out onto this street; amidst the sea of workers. Here they are! The busy public! Come one! Come all! For I have found them! They were here all along! While I sat at home with my cats and my books and my false memories of false dreams.... Continue reading
Today, this evening, most of this last eight or nine months; I am plagued with confusion as to what to do with the fact that so many people keep saying, to or about me, statements which amount to: “but you are obviously intelligent... and very articulate”. It is bad enough... Continue reading
Women who drink whiskey, men who read to discover, cats who stay out of the way, technology that works more often than it doesn't, sunsets that twist a man's spine until it is powder, wheels that roll up and over all of this, animals that just keep doing it, stories... Continue reading
“You know, I use to get paid to do this.” The cat stared back at David with a look of utter suspicion and distrust. “Really?” “Yeah.” “Why?” “It needed doing.” David used the bottle of water to wet another rolled up wad of kitchen towel, and went in for another... Continue reading
The words used to fall out of me like Pic 'n Mix from the pockets of an over-avaricious shoplifter. Now they must be hauled out like swords (or blood?) from stones, children from toy shops, or fish from lakes. Yeah, I think that I like the fish one best; throw... Continue reading
Sounds like a cool piece of kit. I like the idea of recording a thunder storm; they have such a singular sort of intense atmosphere which always makes me feel really awake and aware – great fun. The closest that I have come to dabbling in any sound recording recently was playing around with speech-recognition, dictation apps on my iphone. The results were surreal, and quite charming. There were patches of accurate transcription mixed with utter gibberish. The technology has a way to go yet.
A spoken word recording over music could be quite interesting. Perhaps with the beeping of a heart monitor and the continuous clinking of tea mugs to add the right atmosphere. I looked up retropulsion. I find the idea intriguing, although I imagine that it's not much fun having to resort to walking backwards to get around. I'm glad to see by your blog that you are out of that place again. It's nice to have somebody confirm that what I perceived was not imagined. My stay certainly blew away much of my naive imaginings of what it's like to be 'cared' for in a hospital.
Thanks for the links to your photos. Quite evocative. They certainly bring back memories. Bad memories, but memories nonetheless. I won't say that I hope you are well, because I realise that this would be a rather stupid thing to say to anybody who finds themselves in residence on Ward 21 for any length of time. Let's just say this: I hope that your prognosis is as close to what you wish as is possible. Stay strong.
I had considered writing a rebuttal to yesterday’s high-grade-gibberish about sport news, to include all of the obvious* reasons why what I had written was nonsense. Then I realised that it wasn’t really an actual argument, and that therefore, offering up all of my opposing viewpoints would be a bit... Continue reading
If you are anything like me (and I really hope that you are not, as that would bring down my market value considerably), you will have an appreciation for how much better you feel about yourself when you’ve made the effort to keep up with what is going on in... Continue reading
Come on. This is supposed to be a regular thing now. Pull your finger out, it will be good for you. Uurrgh... This week has been pretty awful. Having had, what could easily be described as, 'a bit too much' to drink on New Years eve (because: yes, I am... Continue reading
In light of this now being an actual blog, it is mandatory that I publish some sort of '2011: Year in Review' nonsense. Which is precisely why I am not going to do that. I am instead going to finally write about the biggest, most annoying, scary, and above all... Continue reading
Time check: 00:43 – Sunday – 25/12/11 ...and so we must talk of Christmas... Culturally, Christmas is acceptable enough. Unfortunately, if you happen to not be utterly cock-a-hoop about Christmas, living in England during December is comparable to living in Germany in the early 1940s and thinking that the whole... Continue reading
Sounds of horror and screaming and police sirens are pouring out of the living room. Lucy must be watching another episode of The Bill. At least it's no longer that show about the two young dancing boys Chris and Wes. Not so much a show, more a sorrowful whimper of... Continue reading
As the sun sets over Calverley, I head up the road to buy a six-pack of Guinness since I have no other ideas. The pumpkins are rotting on my neighbour's front step and the night will soon be alive with the hollow spectacle of corner store fireworks. Back at the... Continue reading
And then one day you wake up and you're 34 years old, you've had three strokes, it is weeks since you last drank coffee, you sort of have a job as a writer, you have a beard, the house is full of cats, and the smell of the things which... Continue reading
The brutal honesty of a cat killing a mouse For food for play for a token of love or respect Here I sit craving distraction hacking at keys of plastic made of petrochemicals from a far off land My comfort and ease built by the lowest bidder is fed by... Continue reading
Most stories end without ever being told A scream in a locked room A shoe left in the woods A cat run over in the night and found by a drunk at dawn The murder victims not young enough not pretty enough not white enough for the papers to try... Continue reading
Years spent wallowing in my own bullshit taken to the edge by my own bullshit an immunity grows a distaste settles in a hypersensitivity an intolerance to nonsense Like a war veteran recognising the brutality of a fisherman and the misguided idealism of the peace protester In a society so... Continue reading
She is deaf to my words spoken written my meaning I am mean she does not see the world that I see I hope she never does I do not see the world that she sees I bet it is beautiful I am an empty bucket carried through burning streets... Continue reading