About

To boldly go where no cliche has gone before. 




Mission statement: 

To write as much badly proof read garbage as possible, in the hope that I can one day achieve the ultimate goal of being one of those lucky monkeys that writes a Shakespeare play. Or maybe just a sonnet.

To editors and grammar nazis alike, I sincerely apologise for the pain that you go through when you read my blog. But then again, I have to remind you that no one held a gun to your head when you read it.

5 year plan:

Use typewriters. Probably buy some, and eventually sell the ones I lose the love for. Oh, and fix lots of them. Preferably with gaff tape and my trusty pocket knife - McGyver style. Anyone got any eggs?

Why the title 'The Filthy Platen'?:

This is the original 'Filthy Platen'

It is my beloved Remington 16 standard that I bought here in Brisbane, and was the first machine that I fixed to operational condition. The reason for the name is two-fold. Firstly, it took me 2 hours to clean the platen that was so covered in grime that soiled three chux wipes to unusable condition, and ended up needing a light solvent to clear completely the muck. 

Secondly, because the language I used while cleaning it was quite filthy. It inspired me to write a blog about writing, fixing and swearing. Although I did eventually clean up the swearing for any kids that may be reading this blog. 

Where in the world are you? 

In the city of Brisbane, Australia. The only city in Australia where you are encouraged to think 20 years behind the rest of the world. 

What is it with the 'sheeps' thing?:

I have no idea what you are talking about. Next question please. 

Do you have a favourite typewriter?:

Dr Spock (no, not the star-trek guy) suggested that you don't pick a favourite child, as it will not be fair to the other children and it might create some negative development. As such I suspect that my Olivetti Studio 44 may end up growing up with a bit of a syndrome, as I hate the bastard thing. 

What did you want to be when you grew up?:

An Astronaut. Sadly, that ship has sailed my friend. I'm grown up now, and there's not a hydrogen fuelled rocket in sight. 

Would you meet with another typewriter enthusiast?:

Yep. Come over. Let's have a type-in. On second thoughts, let's go to the pub and type-in.

Can you repair my typewriter for me? 
Of course not. Oh. Well, bring it over and let me take a look at it. 

You do know that they have things called 'computers' right? You don't need to use a typewriter anymore!
Holy card-puncher batman! Really? Gosh! Incidentally, how many cities did we lose after the cuban missile crisis? I've been stuck in a bunker 'n all, you know. 

Did you know that Quantum Physics says that your typewriter does, and does not exist at the same time? 

Theoretically, this question also does - and does not. The problem is that the reality of one has already collapsed in on the other which has created a situation where this question, like my typewriters exists - and that this reality is this established in fact to the observer and as such is the one real world answer. As such talking about the temporary state of flux between existing and non existing states is a past tense conversation, and the one reality has been established a long time ago. 

But the 'sheeps'...:

SHUDDUP. 

How many typewriters do you own?:

For the sake of my relationship, and any future psychoanalysts that may be reading this blog and wish to stamp my with the 'loony' stamp, I refuse to answer that question. 

Why do you love cheese so?:

Because the universe is powered by cheese. Cheese makes the world go round. 

And if you think that sounds weird, feel free to explain scientology to me. 

How to you pronounce Hermes?:

Her-meeeeeeeeeeeeeez. 

What about miss Le......:

I did not have sexual relations with that woman. 

Cup of tea?:

Oh that would be divine! White with two, please.