The genetic conditions song (WIP, feedback & suggestions appreciated)

The Genetics 13.10.10 version

(with apologies to Tom Lehrer and Gilbert & Sullivan)

Original: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgFh6IAQoDA


There's cancer and porphyria and hypercalciuria
adrenal hypoplasia, dystrophia myotonica
and hypochondroplasia, 5 Leiden thrombophilia
And hyperoxaluria, methemoglobinemia,
Classic Galactosemia and sickle-cell anemia
ataxia, hemophilia and beta-thalassemia
propionic acidemia hyperphenylalaninemia, (gasp)
and otospondylomegaepiphyseal dysplasia.


There's Cerebral autosomal dominant ateriopathy
with subcortical infarcts and leukoencephalopathy,
And obesity, acrocephaly and compression neuropathy.
And dilated, hypertrophic, and arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy.


Chondrodystrophy and D-glyc'rate dehydrogenase deficiency,
and nonclassic type demyelinogenic leukodystrophy,
hypoxanthine-guanine phosphoribosyl transferase deficiency,
Adrenoleukodystrophy, and just muscular dystrophy.
And Bourneville phakomatosis, perioral Lentiginosis
Tay-Sachs disease and also type 1 neurofibromatosis
Craniofacial Dysostosis, and just plain cystic fibrosis – gasp, gasp, gasp
Dermatosparaxis and Mucopolysaccharidosis


There's cretinism, dwarfism & hyperandrogenism
pantothenate kinase-associated neurod'g'n'ration
colour blindness and idiopathic pulmon'ry hypertension
and fragile X and triple X and XXXXX syndromes.


And these are just the ones that have had write-ups in The Lancet -
So if you're expecting perfect kids I don't fancy your chances....

[This is supposed to come near the end of the show and say 'Hey, we're all genetically screwed up in some way. So let's deal with it and not worry too much.' And also to ensure I'm out of breath by the end.]

Drugs rap finished. Let me know if its bad enough.

http://wretchedcycloneofbones.blogspot.com/
I may have to lose the last verse, as the emollient and co-codamol aren't technically to combat my heart failure, but its knock-on effects.

I do drugs! (Drug rap)


I'm on drugs, I'm on drug drugs
I'm on drugs, I'm on good drugs
Drug dr dr drug dr drug dr dr dr drugs
Dr Drugs dr dr drugsdru dru drugs dr drugs druuuuugs

There's Eplerenone to block aldosterone
a normally useful steroid hormone
But it increases kidney reabsorption of water and sodium
and their secretion of potassium
Thus increasing your blood volume and pressure
and meaning heart failure can once again getcha
But Eplerenone stops this, lessening blood volume sufficiently
That the heart pumps less blood but it pumps it more efficiently

I'm on drugs, I'm on good drugs
I'm on drugs, I'm on blood drugs

Next, a beta blocker called Bisoprolol
lessens effects of adrenalin & other stress hormones
and thus calms my atrial fibrillation,
social anxiety, and water reabsorption
(Ie it also does the same things as Eplerenone did)
But also knocks nocturnal release of melatonin
So though it's calming, if you take too much in error – / you'd better warn your carer
it can cause cold extremities, fatigue, and NIGHT TERROR!

I'm on drugs! I'm on good drugs!
I'm on drugs! I'm on BLOODY SCARY drugs!


Now Warfarin's usually for poisoning rats
but in my blood it's an anti-coagulant
to stop clots causing strokes or heart attacks
Each day I take enough to kill a elephant.
And I can't take St John's Wort or ingest any cranberries
or drink much and I gotta watch out for red or for black faeces
I get the runs and bloodshot eyes and I'm prone to bleed quite badly
so for the next half hour please don't anybody stab me.

A foxglove-derived glycoside toxin?
that must mean I'm on Digoxin,
Digitalis of old, which primes the heart with calcium,
increasing contractility in the myocardium.
It too slows the heart, improving hemodynamics
and also makes it physically impossible to panic.
Though it might've caused Van Gogh's Yellow Period blurred vision
and may increase the chance of death (but luckily just in women)

I'm on drugs, I'm on drug drugs
I'm on drugs, I'm on sexist drugs
Drug dr dr drug dr drug dr dr dr drugs
Dr Drugs dr dr drugs GAUGIN I MISS YOU drugs druuuuugs


Without Furosemide life would be gruesome
hacking up litres of bubbly thick sputum
Caused by water in the blood not being pumped
out the heart, and instead being forced into the lungs
So without this lung-clearing diuretic
Life would be breathless and pathetic
There's only one problem that can spoil it -
All day I have to stay quite near a toilet.

Ramipril, goddamn I'm ill, is an angiotensin-converting enzyme inhibitor,
and if you want a description of what that is I'll give it t'yer,
by metabolising to Ramiprilat in the liver
it slows the production of angiotensin,
thus relaxing arteries so they're wide as a river
and carry more blood easily. But it's a dandy old wellspring
of side effects: you'll know you're on no placebo
if you get a dry mouth, dry cough or dried-up libido.

I'm on drugs! I'm on good drugs!
I'm on drugs! If I think I'll get away with rhymes like that!


I need skin creams too, not Vaseline from petroleum
but Poundland's own-brand aqueous emollient
I use it as a lube, but don't take the piss
as it's not for my ass but for my ankular psoriasis
And Co-codamol, that's paracetamol and codeine
which metabolizes in the old liver to morphine.
Though I don't take it cos it's an opiate
but for its side-effect: it firms up my shits.

I'm on drugs! I'm on good drugs!
I'm on drugs! I'm on bum drugs!


That's a wrap of my accurate rap description
of the seven drugs in my prescription
And if it sounded like it was all in Egyptian
Just email me later for a typed transcription.

Cos... I'm on drugs! I'm on good drugs!
I'm on drugs! Good blood drugs!
I'm on drugga drug bum blood druggy drug drugs
drugga drugga drug good blood bloody good ddddddddrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggsssssssss!!!!!!!!!


The bad thing is I'll be on all these drugs for the rest of my life, the good news is that if I memorise that rap, whenever anyone at the hospital asks me what drugs I'm on, I could just burst out with that rap, as if life is a vibrant hip-hop musical. Or more likely a Dennis Potter.

WIP from 'Richard Tyrone Jones has a big heart': Drugs rap

Every performance poet that does schools should have a rap about drugs.

Mine's pro-drugs, of course. Here's a sample. WIP. Think I should cut each verse down to 8 lines?

Without furosemide my life would be gruesome
hacking up litres of bubbly thick sputum
Caused by water in the blood not being pumped
out the heart, and instead being forced into the lungs
And though it can cause reduced mental alertness
severe dehydration, and sometimes jaundice
Without this lung-clearing diuretic
Life would be consumptive, immobile, pathetic
There's only one problem that can spoil it
All day I have to stay quite near a toilet.

I'm on drugs! I'm on good drugs!

There's Eplerenone for Tyrone Jones,
an agent to block aldosterone
That's a normally useful steroid hormone
as you all know, for renin-angiotensin control
But by increasing kidney reabsorption of water and sodium
and their secretion of potassium
Thus increasing blood volume and pressure
it means that heart failure can once again getcha
But Eplerenone stops it, decreasing blood volume sufficiently
That the heart pumps less blood but pumps it more efficiently

I'm on drugs! I'm on good drugs!
I'm on drugs! I'm on blood drugs!
I'm on drugga drug drug drug druggy drug drugs
drugga drugga drug good blood bloody good drugs!

15 favourite films (off the top of my head, via Danni Antagonist)

The rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen films you've watched that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Tag fifteen friends including me, because I'm interested in seeing what films my friends choose. (To do this, go to your NOTES tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your fifteen picks, and tag people in the note.)

oh, and btw: in absolutely no particular order.

1. Funny Games (original)
2. Time of the Wolf
3. Dancer in the Dark
4. Come and see
5. Bladerunner
6. eXinstenZ (yeah, I know, not his best, and Jude Law to boot, but great ideas, visuals and supporting characters)
7. Dawn of the Dead (original)
8. Total Recall (and proud of it)
9. Aliens (see above)
10. Dune (see number 6, replacing 'Jude Law' with 'Sting')
11. Europa
12. Care Bears' adventures in Wonderland
13. Crank. (Hilarious. Crank 2 is a bit far-fetched)
14. Aguirre, Wrath of God (shits on Apocalypse Now).
15. A Kurosawa. Probably Seven Samurai just to be unoriginal.

I will of course change my mind, or perhaps you'll change it for me. I wanted to put 'Shoot em up' in there for pure lols, Terminator 2 or Die Hard 3 for pure Hollywood Action and Sin City because it's the best cartoon film ever, but....

I'm not a fan of Citizen Kane. I know it's because every film since it has copied it that the form seems less than breathtakingly original, despite being the original, but still...

I was joking about 12. Dr Strangelove.

Tree poem, feedback welcomed

I suppose I could make it rhyme more. Just a first draft though.
From my blog http://wretchedcycloneofbones.blogspot.com

Tree poem

Let's hear it for trees!
Most die as seeds,
or shoots eaten by sheep,
to then wait there, patiently
up to 900 years.
They don't take a year off to go backpacking
They don't move house every few months
saying they can't stand the way those Dutch Elms
steal all the sunlight
and wouldn't the riverbank be a much nicer
place to bring up our saplings?
They don't squirm at the prospect of pollarding -
limbs hacked off and stuck in a truck,
oozing sap – half as much as we do
at the prospect of say, redundancy.
If they get chopped down they don't fight back
All they make is wood and conkers
and they're happy with that.
All they eat is dirt.
They don't complain in the rain, all that can hurt
is a chainsaw or hurricane; all they do as they die
is creakily sigh.

They're quite happy to go fuck themselves.
Apart from a few weeks of coming petals,
tens of years of boredom and patience spent
as sensorily deprived as hostages – but
you'd never hear them on Leafbook bitching
about losing their chlorophyll each year
or 'I'm so old, I must sway a bit more,
get rid of some of these rings.'
The cold, the wet, the dry, the heat
they endure. Now make like a tree
and TTFU.

Bully's special prize (or, why Bullseye really got cancelled) (Poem, feedback invited)

Bully's special prize
(or, why Bullseye really got cancelled)

At first, they hardly noticed the slips,
like when Jim asked one couple if they often went to church,
the producer snapping 'we'll edit that out.'
Or when they hit 'Faces' asking them, in banter,
if they thought the Turin shroud was real.
Maybe it was like speaking in tongues, 'cos
in the green room, Bowen denied all knowledge, but
''Stay out of the black and into the red,
you get nothing in this game for two in an extra-marital bed"
was what slipped out, the producer sweated
'we'll edit in last week's audio and the cameras on the audience.'
By the last round, when they revealed the prizes on the board,
it went: 'Iiiin one!' - “The Father”
'Iiiin two!' - “Son”
'Iiiin three!' - “and Holy Ghost!”
when it was plainly a crystal drinks decanter.
When Jim asked the winners if they wanted to gamble,
he said “You've got the time it took our Lord Christ to resurrect
to decide.” But what took the biscuit was when
“Let's take a look at what you could've won”,
and instead of a caravan or a speedboat, the board
revolved to reveal the very Kingdom of Heaven,
with angels, doves, clouds, Bernini sunlight, St Peter,
a caravan and a speedboat and a tankard,
glory shining all around Bully as a seraphim,
bellowing his beefy clarion down a heavenly golden horn.

Only then did the Producer take off his cans, put his head
in his hands and said 'No, this whole episode is going to be unusable.'

http://www.ukgameshows.com/p/images/5/50/Bullseye_bullies.jpg




(NB: Jim Bowen once described Bullseye as "the second-best darts-based game show on television". There were no others.)




This one is about how I started feeling religious while in hospital and almost almost on the point of death, but how it doesn't really fit in with my self-image and career choices. In this poem, Jim Bowen is my objective correlative.

Feedback welcome.

On a day when it rains so hard you can't do anything (poem/mood piece in progress)

I want to hear the whining of rusty fans and the grinding of a ship's hull reverberating through the factory. That's my idea of a holiday.

I need a peeling dancehall in the cordoned-off season, seabirds nesting in the flying buttresses. The salt in the air preserves nothing. It's like Doom Jazz.

I want the sleet to slip into bed. I need the world to be the room my head is. I want the shattered attic to look out on an overgrown garden and a sodden cardboard stage.

I hold the broken cistern and nineties porn fading on the walls, I want mere corrugation. I need to be the quietest applause in the audience. The middle sister, the stillborn mouse, the pirouetting spider-husk. I could stop all this now with a coffee or snack but I won't. I'm not emptiest yet. I'm just dusk.