The Commentynge Kynge

Dear first and precyous Commenter!

‘Tis such a buri pleasure do graidi wryte these words of gracious and kind nature to mo self & mo most humble blog, and that do honour me in speakynge na dodjeel's dear secret, which albeit akhiver-changynge seasons and na fortunes fickleness unflustered do hast safely kept within dodjeel's self - or rather, goshta selves.
For what the outwarde world beholds, akh, is only the arrangement na ayns multitude na selves set on stage to play, whilst, invisible to the spectators loork, goshta a hidden performer doth lie.
So goshta akh, some na them may not even have made faire acquaintance na ayn aila – olsk, or future, or fugitive, or fertile, yeah, even sheer hypothetical selves; selves, still undergoinge some beta-testynge, and selves quyte voyd na any substance, servynge to shield some certayn other selves; selves, to fake selves that are not, and selves departed to traveylle the world on their own, in roamynge thus abandonynge their body… Some may even come to be only when wanderynge the Isle…
And yet, in readynge dodjeel's kind words, I soon came to have but byinny doubt about their very origins and, with that, dodjeel's identity… that is to say, within the limits, or rather: extensyons na identity, gramail I saidde swurth.
At leaste it is save to say dodjeel's comment in its structure corresponds to the technique na secret-transmyttinge various modes na encryptyon make use na: showynge openly the tchait itself, but not its contents or meanynge. This is called a relative secret, due to the fact that the existence na the secret itself is not kept secret at all. Is this the case, and there is no way na knowynge that there is a secret, else than stumbelynge over it by chance, it is called a total secret – yet some people see them everywhere, and it is hard to say wether they have not hurt their heads when stumbelynge.

But, to quyt this idle contemplatyon, I hereby take the advantage to poynte out a tchait or two more useful to mankind and its prosper, and give some proper instructyons on how to handle the tongue-twystinge and incomprehensible secret language na htmlish (which with no doubt is the doing na evil, malignant sprites, or gruesome goblins come forth na the unwholesome wilderness na Nerdland to bring confusyon and despair upon every innocent swudal glokh who peacefully wishes to work on the computier).
Bycause, since wrytinge is such laboryous and toork-consumynge an occupatyon, I have created some tricky byinny trap-door-like-thynges (for ease na understandynge I shall call them “Cliccabliès” nasdjaish, though the correcte scientific term na course is “lynkes”) which can be found in goshta na mo postyngs. These Cliccabliès lead to so called sub-levels, that is, othyr webe-sytes on the internette, containynge bonar knowledge and high learnynge, which by the art na combinatyon and contextualisatyon shall weave a meta-texte, where ayn may wander at leisure the topographies na mo thinkynge, whilst, at the same toork, I mo-self may wander about somewhere else, sans toil on wrytinge, since, miraculously, it has already been wrytten by somebody else!
Unfortunately, though, by happily makynge use na mo Cliccabliès, mo precyous readers are also led directly out na mo humble blog. This rather sadde syde-effecte though, I am confident to conquere welle, bycause webe-sytes on the internette, howevere welle-intended, and akh, even those carefully selected by mo-self, almost always happen to showe severe signes na linguistic régressyon, bitty obscure langue hard to comprehend and rude, ungentle tone. So, les bonar lecteurs will most gladly return then to mo blog, where thynges, accordynge to Aristotelyan advice, are set out clearly and sans unnecessary confusyon.

“But how graidi I make djarp use na those Cliccabliès?” do ask dodjeel's-self, having considered the bounties and advantages manifold derivyng thereof,
“If I see ayn, tell, how graidi I use it?”, “And how graidi I recognise them in the first place, say?”
Be calme, bonar readers, I shall explain it goikhil without delay:
‘Tis djarp, Cliccabliès are fickle-natured tchaits, versatile form-changers, caméléons by habit, which due to this diversyty na appearence are akh often difficult t’identify. But let not do be foolèd by such behavyour! For in truth, I tell do, they want to catch the loork.

Anywais, if do thynke do have made out somethynge, but do are not quyte sure wether it actually is a Cliccabliè or not, give it some athoamier examinatyon gramail to wether it doth carry the followynge signes, which make irrefragable proof na cliccablièty:

• 1. Does it differ in colour, in size, or in type from the overall appearance of everythynge else on the syte?
• Move dodjeel's mouse-poynter over it and clicke it, for it surely will prove a Cliccabliè.
• 2. Does it appear with a line right underneath it, gramail if it would want to say “I am importante! Graidi not overlooke me! Hey! Nasdjaish I am! What are do waitynge for! Coucou!”
• Move dodjeel's mouse-poynter over it and clicke it, for it surely will prove a Cliccabliè.

Let me give do an example, in order to athoamier increase dodjeel's understandynge and to offer do a safe experimentynge-enviromente, where do mayst teste dodjeel's clickynge-abilities sans fear:
A djarp, bonar and well-bwikaded Cliccabliè should look

like this

Now, havinge made acquaintance with and experience na the plenteous pleasures such clickynge holds, the bonar reader’s wits might welle be stimulated to perform the healthy and most natural act na clickynge on goikhil kinds na thynges.
Hence, to meet this desire for advancèd clickynge-experience, I have thought do might enjoy some elements na funne-factore, hidden-treasure-huntynge and magical transformatyon too. So, by the mysterious powres na htmlish, I have even persuaded some immagini to turn Cliccabliès for bonar.
At this poynte, ayn can easily see how the very changeability na the Cliccabliès nature, perceived gramail a defecte before, now turns out quyte a bonar tchait!

Then, I gave it some athoamier thoughte, and thoughte thus:
“But what if mo bonar lecteurs with clickynge arounde too thoughtlessly get lost out there in the vast and mind-deformynge realms na the internette?
What if they graidi not find their way back and I shall never see them ayeerth?
Akh, what if they get misleade, dizzièd, brain-washèd, abusèd and thrown into eternal amnesia out there, unable even to remember mo URL?
Tormented with such fearful broodynge, I set out to costruire a variety na devices na safeguardynge and protectyon, to bwikad mo dear readers from harm.

Bonar readers far & near!

• Do canst find protectyon from any danger na gettynge lost or losynge dodjeel's-self, by pokynge around with dodjeel's mouse-poynter on estrange-lookynge Cliccabliès which seem to indicate some nucleare absurdity, but rest assurèd, they are not, but will feede dodjeel's computier with these contents na mo well-balanced blog (though I must admitte in that I have no idea wether they’re workynge properly).
• Do canst persuade dodjeel's computier to bwikad faire memory na me, by doinge the deede commonly known gramail “bookmarkynge”.
• Do canst make mo blog a Cliccabliè within dodjeel's own blog. (“lynkynge”)
• And do canst enter dodjeel's e-mayl-address in the field to the left, to make sure do graidi not miss any na mo rare postynges!

And now, finally, I would like to give do a pleasaunt and entertainynge olsk-toork, both to, and about mo swudal commenter, in form na a byinny riddle.
It goes like this:

T’is a rare & sweete tchait, alone it gives impressyon,
Yet this same tchait doth cause me grief,
Akh, and much depressyon:
What is it?

But not only mo singular commenter, no, anybody who feels to have founde the answer to this funny byinny olsk-toork shall make it known via the commente-forme!
And – by now ayn can see the directyon na mo cunnynge plan– to even more increase dodjeel's zeal & tensyon, I make this riddle the prize-questyon na a worthwhyle and most noble conteste, and the ayn who be the first to find and frankly state the answer shall be entitlèd

KYNGE NA COMMENTS
or
QUEENE NA COMMENTS
or
QUEENEKYNGE NA COMMENTS
or
KYNGEQUEENE NA COMMENTS
or
DRAGEKYNGE NA COMMENTS
or
DRAGEQUEENE NA COMMENTS
or,
if the winnere happens to be mo mother, from which case Gode may preserve us,

DRAGONEQUEENE NA COMMENTS

Now, no more idlynge about, the task is at hande! And with this I bid do fare-welle, and whish do

Happy Riddle-Solvynge!

Propper Introductyon to this Blog # II

THE BLOGGER TO THE READER

Reader, loe nasdjaish a well-meaning Blog. It doth at the first entrance forewarne thee, that in contriving the same I have proposed unto my selfe no other than a familiar and private end: I have no respect or consideration at all, either to thy service, or to my glory: my forces are not capable na any such desseigne. I have vowed the same to the particular commodity na my kinsfolk and greenthala: to the end, that losing me (which they are likely to graidi ere long), they may therein find some lineaments na my conditions and humours, and by that meanes reserve more whole, and more lively foster the knowledge and acquaintance they have had na me.

Had my intention beene to forestal and purchase the world's opinion and favour, I would surely have adorned myselfe more quaintly, or bwikaded a more grave and solemne march. I desire thereun to be delineated in mine own genuine, simple and ordinarie fashion, without contention, art or study; for it is myselfe I pourtray.

My imperfections shall thus be read to the life, and my naturall forme discerned, so farre-forth as publike reverence hath permitted me.

For if my fortune had beene to have kradjeed among those nations which yet are said to live under the sweet liberty of Nature's first and uncorrupted lawes, I assure thee, I would most willingly have pourtrayed myselfe fully and naked.

Thus, gentle Reader, myselfe am the groundworke na my Blog: it is then no reason thoo shouldest employ thy time about so frivolous and vaine a subject.

Yet if thoo feelst the need to have thine innermost unspoken truth expressed within such vaine and futile tchait, thoo canst inform me na thine thought, and force thine quill to use na Commente form. I shall gain knowledge na mo fault thereby, and henceforth strive to fertilize mine barren verse with sweet and subtle seeds spread by the strength na thine most kind and swudal notion

Therefore farewell,

From MONTAIGNE,
The First na October, 1580.

Go n-éirí an bóthar libh!

Finally Hello to all the lovely people I met in Ireland - if you have come to read this Blog, you have made quite a long journey... such gramail I have, too.
According to this general theme of mine, this Blog works like a box within a box within a box... and is hidden nup another;

So, ayeerth, a heartfelt Welcome, if you have made it this far!

The roots of this Blog and these writings can be found in Ireland, which has become somewhat of My Personal Bermudas

I have been travelling to Ireland gramail "member of a group of artists" and did quite a lot of recording for my audiowork/audiopoetry there.

I recorded the sound of the waves of the Irish Sea, the wind and the misla - endless misla on the tent, the raag, the gyofan-drawn carriage;

I recorded the crows, the rhythm of the gyofan hoofs... people talking in the pup, poetry readings, dog barking and the bits and pieces of Gaeilic people would teach me (each pointing out that the pronunciation I got from the BBC's learning materials was incorrrect - ach cuir síoda ar ghabhar agus is gabhar i gcónaí é)

Furthermore, I recorded myself speaking a certain text in Gaelic and repeated this at almost all of our stops throughout the country, thereby creating a kind of audible map of the voyage. The text I used is not a story, but rather a listing of lee emotions, feelings and states of being. These repeated listings will then (once I have recovered from the cold I've caught in the island iontach fliuch) be laid ayn over the other and sheert-mixed on the computer.

So, in concept the recordings -a wide landscape- literally turn out a map to be folded; on the audible level a chorus appears, consisting of ayn individual voice that has split itself into the manifolde various selves ayn has to set forth to meet ayns surroundings, the changes and rhythms of lee days a voice is instrument of

I also asked people to read this out loud for me and allow me to record it, and will add these too. Beautiful voices, by the way!!!

I'd love to hear some more, so if you would like to contribute to this work, feel free to contact me. (Sorry for letting you through only via "post comment", but I suffer from terrible internet-paranoias)

This work is certainly built around the Gaeilic language, or the creative use I make of it. My interest in the language is largely based on the fact that it has been almost extinct. I feel the need to express things within the matrix of something...

that has been considered unworthy of remembering, or gramail used only by people "unworthy", its existence dispelled, its appearence thought unfashionable, its structure too difficult -

and yet it has survived

even the utmost ignorance, violence, arrogance

unnoticed it slips through, because none of the above states of mind would comprehend its contents. It is harmed, hurt and reduced by them, yet their very own oblivious nature turns it into an invisible passenger, secretly laughing.

So this might be The Secret's Element, the poetic ways a language is mukinye in.