Nov ’17 – An Archive Of Doom….

Posted: November 20th, 2017 | Author: | Filed under: John G. Miller | Tags: , | No Comments »

Back! Back! Back! Let’s do the warptime again! It’s well over 10 years since Adam J. Smith and Agent Rob tentatively approached Agent Johnny at a SCCAM meeting in ‘The Mono‘ in 2005 and thus quite impossible to imagine the current underground creative landscape had this hesitant first encounter – Agent Rob remembers Adam pointing out “that guy” sitting, swilling at a table alone – never occurred (to Adam)….

Fast forward this rewind two years and in late 2007, after countless truly amazing letters (from John) and encouraging letters (from Rob), Rob agreed to head through to Pester Wails to join Johnny on one of his regular reconnaissance missions (AKA a ‘View To A Swill’) over the hill to Cramond Island (AKA ‘Crab Key‘)….

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, so there’s no sense in wasting too much time describing how damp and dreary the day itself was, both Agents of S.H.I.E.LD. trudging on, boots squelching, bones soaked. An initial highlight was bumping into one of Johnny’s numerous ‘girlyfriends’, Lyndy Henderson – she blew up the world, dontcha know! – at a set of traffic lights en route. She was out walking her dog and it was heartening to see her affection for Agent Miller, who was clearly oozing (if not in fact visibly dripping) some of that old 007 magic….

The swill was duly cranked open – setting a template the decade that followed – and, to the drone of ‘airyplanes’ cruising in to land at Edinburgh airport, cans were necked and munchies munched. Nothing lasts forever, and in a flash the afternoon was over, years evaporating in the blink of an eye, our two sodden souls heading back to (equally not as) dry land….

There was to be no let up in the weather and, having missed his return train – by this time it was around ‘nineteen hundred hours’ at night – Agent Johnny kindly offered Rob some shelter from the storm until the next one. And so the threshold at Ice Station Zebra was crossed, thereby accidentally opening up a whole brave new world that would come to irrevocably shape the duo’s next ten years….

Cramond Island is (supposedly) about two hours walk from Pester Wails, but add on the scenic route, jaunts into ‘nooseagents’ fer grub supplies, the comic artist’s mantra of ‘nae rush’, the weight of rain saturating yer jacket slowing ye down and it takes twice as long. Sadly, the leaden pace on the day meant there was no time on the night ‘fer to stop off’ fer some glug at the Cramond Inn – an experience often given an enviable and pleasantly melancholy warm rendering in John‘s letters…

Cramond Island AKA ‘Crab Key’

Journey into fear….

Cramond Inn

“Double Oh flip…!”

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