Wyrd Question Daze : The Nameless Book

Good morning/afternoon/evening, I am The Nameless Book. Yeah, it’s a silly name, I know.

Where did you come from and where are you going?
We are stardust, we are golden, and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden. Or something.

What preoccupies your mind these days?
Just what the holy hell is going on. It feels like six years living in a fictional dystopia. I hope things will improve, but I’m not going to hold my breath.

Name a favourite taste, touch, sound, sight and smell
Taste – stolen chips
Touch – wiggling the tip of your finger on the knapp of velvet
Sound – a dreaming dog’s muffled barking
Sight – the glint in Bob Mortimer’s eye as he starts to spin a yarn
Smell – taking the bus past the McVities factory on Jaffa Cake day

Video created/directed by Beneather ~ Music and lyrics written by S J Nelson

Describe one of your most vivid dreams or nightmares
I was on a open-topped bus that was speeding across the ocean like a hovercraft. At a signal three of us mounted on dirt bikes rode out of the middle door and began riding through the white horses towards the rapidly-approaching beach. We reached the shore, ditched the bikes (as they would only work at sea), and split up to begin searching for our quarry.

The beach was pebbly and hard to run on, my legs pushing down into it with each stride, so by the time I reached the road my muscles ached. Houses all around were extensively damaged from some unknown bombing campaign. In the distance a column of people in uniform marched steadily closer.

After looking through several ruins I found it: small and fragile, I clutched it to my chest and started running back to my bike on the beach. But the road turned into pebbles as I ran, sucking and pulling my feet deeper and deeper.

By the time I reached the bike I was exhausted, but I still had it in my hand. I looked up at the road to see the masses ranks about to march onto the shingles to intercept me. As I looked out to see the bus swept past and turned its prow to the open sea, leaving me trapped.

That’s when I woke up…

Have you ever had an uncanny experience?
In my youth I once was persuaded to attend a Christian music festival. That was pretty eerie. Or terrible. Both.

How does your sense of place affect the way you express yourself?
It depends on the safety and novelty of the place I think. Somewhere secure and/or boring will prompt more navel-gazing (not necessarily a bad thing); somewhere perilous and/or stimulating will focus my attention outside. But I’m also so scared it’ll go away and never come back I don’t like to question it too fiercely.

What has particularly touched or inspired you recently?
Primarily We Rate Dogs on Twitter. And Wholesome Memes.

Tell us a good story, anecdote or joke
I’ve just heard a good one. Apparently at the siege of Tenochtitlan in 1521 Hernán Cortés’s forces built a large trebuchet to bombard the city. Unfortunately the Spanish forces building it weren’t terribly used to mediaeval weaponry, as they primarily used guns and cannon. They test fired it with a large rock, which went directly upwards and fell back down onto the trebuchet, destroying it.

“Blank Page” will be available to buy digitally from Tbilissi Recordings via Bandcamp (and stream at all disreputable sites) on Friday 18th March. A very limited run of CDs will also be available for lovers of the physical.

The Nameless Book TwitterInstagram

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