Automatic Writing is the most direct of Surrealist techniques. Sit at a table with a pen and paper, put yourself in a ‘receptive’ state of mind, and start writing. Continue writing without thinking about what is appearing beneath your pen. Write as fast as you can. If, for some reason, the flow stops, leave a space and immediately begin again by writing down the first letter of the next sentence – Surrealist Games, Redstone Press, 1991.
Where is my tuna? There is nothing but a shark and a grey, underwater mollusc near my refrigerator. I am hungry.
My mole has left home and will not answer my letters.
Every third Tuesday there is a shadow boxing contest up near the Horizon pub, between fellows of only 6’ and under. The winner buys pies for all of the inhabitants of the wind farm. I am envious of the pies.
My mother is made entirely of ham. Do not cry for me if I am lost at sea. My ham horn is not worn.
In the moonlight there can often be seen a gimlet-mouse. These creatures are dangerous. Do not fret about correct approach. Gimlet-mice have a sour taste. If you catch one on a Monday, only the poorest may be settled.
It is a tragedy that Francophile gentlemen have bushy moustaches. There has never been a better whisky drinker than Marcel Duchamp.
What better way to die than by eating a treacle teaser? Both mrs and mistresses are jungle dwellers in the end.
But where do we keep our missiles? In the tube pants, of course. In the tube pants.
8/7/25 3.00pm.
James JW Robinson 