Ignorant men raise questions that wise men answered a thousand years ago


Hi. I know Mr. Least Blogged and he kindly allowed me to contribute to
this blog. I will say now I have nothing to do with the graffiti scene,
so this admission instantly puts a big black (for black times, make them
montana black... Montana Black: black so black its like having a mini celestial black hole in a can, it aborbs every bit of  light, even that really small bit still left hiding in your soul.TM ) question mark around what I’m doing here and what I could possibly contribute. Here are some examples of graffiti style question marks I found just to emphasise the point; 





Don't get me wrong i like parts of the scene. The accepted embrace of
(creatively stimulating)  alcohol abuse, the bountiful availability and
carefree use of drugs,  adventurous, sometimes lonely, tours of London
by night , the exercise that fleeing police , scaling fences and dodging
moving trains provides. And some pieces look quite good, very good in
fact; but as a person I am just  not that good being around intimidating
tattooed men, dressed in colourful hoodies and smelling of paint thinner
and skunk. my hands would start shaking, added to my now established
whiskey shakes, my can control would be very dreadful, not that i ever
had any and i'm right now just guessing as to what that actually means.

So how can i contribute? Pondering this question has given me time to
drink the only thing left in my house that has a percentage number on
the bottle that is not cosmetic, it is something that has been living at
the back of the (now empty apart from some age thickened to crimson
sludge creme de cassis and a potent Chinese rice wine the smell of which
instantly provokes vomitus, verily rock bottom options) liquor cabinet for many year. Its called
NEWEPCKA Rpo3goba  and its 40% and, actually, when mixed with ribena
(also ribena is also the only mixer left in the house. Bit sad that. Like a fridge full of nothing but condiments) and a bit of water and ice (got lots of that) is surprisingly quite nice. 



This refreshment has made me amazingly capable of staring at one point
on the screen for a very long time and feel quite happy and content
about it, and then i realised what i was staring at. It was the mark of
the question itself, i have been fixated on the "?"

This sparked a small fume fire in the cognitive chambers and created a
strange molten brain baby that spoke to me thusly: i wonder if anyone in
this scene has truly mastered the art of drawing punctuation marks?

Writers spend years mastering letters, but how can you be called a
writer if you don't have complete mastery of ALL the basic symbols of
written language, especially punctuation?

Language is made up of graphemes, a grapheme being a basic symbolic unit
of language, which includes alphabetic letters, typographic ligatures,
Chinese characters, numerical digits AND punctuation marks. You might
also have noticed how the word grapheme is not far from that name that
you give to your insalubrious trade/ art/ hobby/ distraction from the devils hands of idleness)










So is there one out there that is not just a a graffiti artist, but a
graphemist? Particularly with punctuation? Has anyone truly explored the
potential and fully realised the beauty of the comma, the ditto mark, or
more exotic creatures such as the ampersand or the most rare
interrobang? A dash doesn't just have to be the line you draw through a
competitors/ enemies/ girlfriends work, it can be the work itself. Is it
possible a piece be done out of nothing but punctuation marks? Call me a
cerebral BBC4 late night speacial arty fuck cunt but it's all i got
right now and you get the idea 




And look how beautiful this is. By questioning what i could contribute
to this blog, i focused on the question mark, and then ended by asking
you a question, can you write a piece using nothing but question marks?
Boom! that’s the kind of crazy fucked up shit i can contribute to this
blog! now go wiki graphemes and interrobang, you were going to do so
anyway, probably, and I’ll drink the rest of my newpecka and ribes. Best
grapheme piece submitted in the next week gets a taste of this little
miracle of adversity, pre mixed and all and presented in a commemorative
volvic bottle with the label ripped off. Na zdrove! AK47s and Interrobangs for everybody!