Badger The Great

I’m currently listening to a remake of Cygnus X’s Orange Theme by The Man With No Name. If you are a diehard fan of trance as am I, I guarantee you’ll find it interesting. Aside from this fact, I’d like to talk about my mate called Badger for a bit. He’s currently in detention for a reason unbeknown to me. Rumours are it involved a machete on his carer or neighbour. I miss him quite a lot. He’s big, bearded, and schizo, just as I like ‘em. He’s the kind of guy who knocks for you and takes you shopping for coffee, sugar and milk, all on his tab, and not expected back. He’s a recovering alcoholic and crack addict. He sketches and writes poetry. He has a long lost daughter. He’s from my home town. He said we hung out together in youth, although I can’t remember him. He says he is a quintessential Jedi Knight in public to strangers, and I believe him. Once he gave me a display of shadow boxing just before he got into trouble after I left him alone drinking at a bar and someone, he claims, threw a bottle at his head. He’s the kind of guy who elects to bully bouncers, asking them will they please batter him, probably so he can retaliate with violent tendencies. But underneath he is a kind caring soul. The last time I seen him, we went for a walk around Sankey Valley Park together. It’s a mini nature resort in the town. I’d just that day walked up a welsh mountain so I wasn’t in the mood for any more drifty commonplace sense data, but he said he really needed it after been stuck in all day, so I went along. He ate a Wigan kebab laters; a pie from the chippy on a barmcake.

During my second naturalist walk of that earthly revolution, he noticed the slump in my bored mood. He was all up for it, suggesting what I do with my eyes. He was telling me what to look at. Keep your seeking vision up towards the fleshless horizon. Stop predominantly looking at the level floor. Look at the majestic sun behind the army of trees. Listen to the unculled wild life. He seemed like a free soul. I’d just like to mention him. His old friends called him Badger “The Great”. They say his mental strength bleeds over into physical strength. He aspired to raising £3million to repair his local church roof. There is an aura of greatness about him. I hope he gets out soon and works the puzzle out again.

To “work the puzzle out” means to step back from the pool table and look at the balls as if you don’t know what is going on. You know what I mean? When the players don’t know what to do next? What, is it a Mensa test or something? Just pick your next shot and get along with it. Sometimes they don’t know what to do! Their faces! Talk about a head scratcher. Badger The Great pulls off this task better than most. He looks awesome working the puzzle out. There’s something Granddaddy about his deportment. I really hope you don’t mind me talking about you, Badger, and I hope you get out soon to enjoy life again x