Expository, Accusatory and Catatonic

The three stages of the Spooky Man are these.

Expository:

The cycle of the Spooky Man begins with the exposure of his most inner and outer selves. To the world he bears both his tuneful melancholy and gleeful chirpings. This first stage is often violently extroverted. There are occasionally instances of conflict as the Spooky Men come together, as each strives to be expository first and thus establish themselves within the group. (In extreme cases, Spooky Men have been known to begin their exposition at home before travelling to their performance sites, thus placing both themselves and others at risk - exposition and driving do not mix). Spooky behaviour mellows over time and so inevitably, all Spooky Men move onto the next stage.

Accusatory:

After weeks, months or even years of exposition, Spooky Men usually move on to the next stage, the Accusatory Period. In this phase of development, the Spooky Man will typically act out feelings of generally unjustified victimhoodliness. They feel as though their exposition is being ignored, and that they are in danger of becoming homo incorporealis - an empty vessel of man-flesh, trapped between the world of reality and the frightening emptiness of spookidom. They are known to lash out at those around them. Even strangers' pets are not safe at this time.

At their most volatile, the accusatory Spooky Man has been known to sing inappropriately and breach the Spooky Constitution by wearing brightly-coloured undergarments without consideration of those around them.

Catatonic:

The catatonic Spooky Man is possibly the most interesting variant. At least they're quiet for a bit. This stage rarely lasts for more than a few performances, before we once again see a return to exposition as the cycle restarts itself at the slightest provocation. The pendulum swings between pointlessness and grandeur as the inner Spooky Man strives to achieve balance between the forces of darkness and not-darkness that lie within.

(For further reading, see: "Where are the simple joys of maidenhood: the Spooky Man at rest and at play" by Grahams (various), 2009 etc.")

A recent example of a rapidly remembered performance can be found below. Our studies continue.

Ravencam is now active

As good as the ones in the book

"As good as the ones in the book"


That was how our wrangler. Spooky Suze described the strawberries. Juicy, ripe and fleshy they proved to be.

Our first "performances" were all smiles, darkness and cheering. Little did we know what lay ahead (well, you don't, do you?)




This close up of an anonymous spookyman shows all too clearly what is possible if you apply yourself to your craft.

We rode into the night. Ghostly figures in a world apart. The man at the desk said he was busy but we could see he was alone. We determined the best course was to wait until he had finished serving the people who weren't there, they having decided to arrive later.

We were given "rooms" and we slept. We knew that we were not alone. The cards were black and impossible to decorate with black ink. We tried. There were tears, but fortunately not ours. The crowd screamed for more, but the road called us. They screamed for more again. No-ingly, we declined. They only stopped screaming when we threatened to take the last one back. We signed their gumboots and left.

The way forward takes us to the ancient settlement of the sage. More will follow.

The journey through the skies

I have been propelled through the sky in a tube full of strangers. Arriving,dazed and blurry in Singapore's Changi airport, I went to sleep (at last) on a small square of carpet in between a post and a window. An hour of slumber, much more walking around. Through security ( no water on the other side). More carpet. Live news on the big screen in the passenger lounge(why do they call them that? Lounge suggests an unlikely level of relaxation. We looked more like a room full of zombies on the way home from holidays. "zombie air: the party never stops!")

Heathrow was only 12 1/2 hours away. I have a great deal of difficulty sleeping on long-haul flights, so I settled in for a movie marathon. I flew singapore airlines and chose to manage my journey with the following:

Elizabeth: the Golden age
The Departed
Gran Torino
The Wrestler
17 Again
Duplicity
The Great Buck Howard
Oceans Thirteen
Paul Blart: Mall Cop
Push
Minority Report
National Treasure: Book of Secrets
Taken

I don't think my life will ever be the same. In the fugue of exhaustion, close-quarter sauirming and random meal times that passes for the luxury of modern air travel, this vast array of cinematic excreta began to meld together (into one big excretum?). I think I remember Cate Blanchett and her massive hair enter the ring to wrestle Mickey Rourke for his big comeback. Tom Cruise drove quickly through several time periods I. Pursuit of Clint Eastwood for crimes against demeanour. John Malkovich loved his car.he could control minds but not his temper and knew about a secret book hidden in a compartment inside Nicholas Cage. Smart people in suits didn't carry anything ad they sauntered about their business. Then they ran a lot. And hey knew things that their less-well-dressed acquaintances would guess at all too late.

I wanted to wake from my flickering catatonia and warn them. "Hitler isn't dead! He's gone back to school as his former self to learn the healing power of love and basketball" he wil. Ride a Segway and rescue his daughter who's bee stolen by Franco-German Albanian Arabs. The credits brought me back to the plastic world around me. My neck hurt.

I checked the clock. 6 hours to go.

Heathrow. Travelodge and a big bed with my name on it await me.

I'm back and able to admit that I was wrong.

I admit that I was wrong to be afraid of the Spooky Men. When they came for me that night, I was afraid. They are not to be feared. They are to be loved, to be honoured as heroes. For many young people growing up in the Britain of today, there are no bearded role-models. Clean-shaven chins are everywhere. With the help of a balanced diet and regular exercise, the Spooky Men's Chorale can turn your community around.

And that's why I have decided to do something. No longer a stander-by type of person, with no inkling of reaching out and touching those around me. I have said "Yes" to the call of the Spook. I will go forth with them. Yea, to the other side of the world I will go. We will move among those less fortunate than ourselves and spread the short and curly gospel of song that is the hallmark of the Spooky Men.

Brace yourself, world. We're coming.

Brother John.

Man. Spooky.

A voice from the past

A carrier-pigeon arrived today.  Inside the pigeon, we found a microchip.  The chip contained this short movie.  

TRANSCRIPT:

: I've managed to sneak away and get to one of the machines.

: I can't talk for long

: I think they've found me

: I'll try to get messages to you whenever I can.

(NOISES)

: I've got to go

(ENDS)

More information is being sought.  It appears that attempts are being made to re-activate Mr Thompson.  This is a matter of the utmost urgency.

We are seeking further information.

Looking Back From A Clear Space

Discovered in the files of the Fes Clinic for the Frequently Challenged:

June 6, 2008

Summary -

After some weeks of extreme medication and disinterested counselling, Mr John awoke from a deep sleep murmuring the words, "One Spooky Man", over and over. "One Spooky Man", "One Spooky Man". Nurse Drakool suggested that we search on the Interweb to see if these words might mean something to those outside the walls of this ancient city. We have discovered that the man we know of as "Mr John" was making a record of his travels with the so-called Spooky Men's Chorale, a primitive cult.

While we can only guess at the perversions to which he was subjected at the hands of these "Spooky Men" (for this handsome young man's experiences are yet to rise to the surface of his memory). He talks apparently randomly of "singing", his moods swing from deep self-doubt to grandiose delusions; wondering if he is "pretty enough" one minute and then declaring his "magnificence" the next. We wonder what we must do to make him whole again.

When he was brought to our refuge by the local cattery-workers, they told us that he had been found gibbering and sweaty, offering outrageous sums of money for local handicrafts. It was all that the authorities could do to rescue him before he was buried beneath a pile of unecessarily expensive local leathergoods. In his pocket, we found this photograph:


As best we can tell, this image shows the final time that Mr John was with this band of song-doers. He wears the bowler of innocence, surely a cry for help. He is obviously surrounded by those who would have him join them ... forever. It seems that somehow he made his escape and fled to Northern Africa. His senses did not come with him.

We hope that in the months to come, more and more of the real man will return. We will do our best to keep him safe and to bring him back to a state of full recovery. In time, we hope that he will be able to return to his world, to face his fears and perhaps one day, once again meet these Spooky Men and, if he chooses to rejoin their ranks, do so in such a way that will allow him to sing proudly, sing well and sing on, and never again wind up being delivered to an African mental institution by local cat-collectors.

We can only hope

Dr Bzaaf.
Director...

As a warning to those who might read this, we show you now a recent photograph of our Mr John, that you may see and be warned of what may befall you if you allow yourself to get too close to the Spooky Men's Chorale. We wish you well.