Writings and Proposal
Job Application
A draft in perpetual development, towards a successful career in the higher echelons of corporate business
Dear Sir or Madam,
Given that I have only recently graduated from college and therefore am too young to have established a creditable professional curriculum vitae, I submit below a brief biography, which I hope will indicate to you my suitability for the position which your company has recently advertised.
I look forward to hearing from you in the near future.
Yours sincerely,
Wendell Kling-Cather
The art school paradigm having fully equipped me for all that life could and would throw at me, I embarked on a trail of ceaseless curiosity and dynamic action, seeking to inspire and inform others. Having qualified as a better person has allowed me to drum on every available surface with my fingers, in public places and tell lies about trivial matters such as the time of the day, with impunity. I have been known to ignore the expiration date on sour cream and am often seen removing coloured stones from other people’s gravel driveways. I have patented two 5000 piece jigsaws, one being Rothko’s "Red on Plum" the other Malevich’s "White" painting. I write critical analyses of stammering telepathics and send cheques to animal hospitals signed with my wrestling name "Stone Stiff Heather". I sit up when I sit down. My fright wig Topiaries astounds critics and women swoon at my pitch perfect impressions of Loons gathering at dusk on Lake Erie. The Wordsworth Trust consults me on questions of grammar. I can hear the sound of fish dreaming. Recently with a small diving crew some 250 miles out from Madagascar in the African Ocean, I found up to 4 tons of rare and sensitive information on Chilean bell-ringers on Zip Discs, undisturbed and pristine. I breed prize winning Newfoundland Turkeys and have mastered the art of changing the shape of my head into that of a boat. For my extensive knowledge of the Toc H organisation and my groundbreaking study of men's tears, I received an olive from one of Frank Sinatra's Martini's. This was sent with a note written in pencil, delivered by one of his aides who informed me in a conspiratorial whisper, that this was Frank's secret way of saying that he really liked me. I can see time passing and am capable of achieving the euphoric state of "Pancity" at will. I walk at least 10 miles a day on my hands. I have designed perforations for stamps and edible currencies for countries of the Third World. My range of Teflon swimwear is bought by the top footballers and I am extremely sensitive; on seeing tears in a painting I shed tears. Every morning I note the movement of dew on the northern side of stones in my garden, just in case. Using only a Claude Glass and a metronome I relieved the siege of a family run deli by beautiful Sambura warriors in Kenya. I can reverse the corrosive qualities of salt. I still believe that the guy will get the girl. I have seen Captain Beefheart's brain. When driving on motorways, I regularly point hairdryers at oncoming cars to make them slow down. Mothers trust me. I have invented a hand-held device which harnesses the wasted energy generated by a multitude of ignored everyday processes. So far I have tapped energy from the flapping of flags, nervous twitching, hair combing and the wagging of animals tails as well as the hot air of committees, marketing consultants, critics, planning boards, politicians and any other bureaucratic bodies who have a paucity of ideas or who are inflicted with an inability to look forward. It can also reverse the spirit of optimists and the stubbornness of pessimists. This super little box now supplies my house with 82.5 % of its electricity requirements. Through the success of my many diverse exploits I have been able to gather a small but discerning collection of anthropological items, all with remarkable transformative powers. This includes orphan tea pot lids, Ancient Egyptian false eyelids made of flies legs, an Iron Age axe head etched with a perfect impression of an unmade bed and Kurt Schwitters' scissors. I knit with fog, juggle with soot, skip, and I jaunt. I sleep with Gray's Anatomy. I am intimate with the movements of Ring-Tailed Lemurs. My investigations into the complexities of English semantics have unearthed many paradoxes such as – the fact that quicksand works slowly, boxing rings are square and there is no egg in eggplant. Other recent anomalies discovered in our language include - teachers who teach but preachers who don’t praught, the plural of tooth is teeth and yet the plural of booth isn’t beeth. These researches continue apace as houses continue to burn up while they burn down, we fill in forms by filling them out and when stars are out, they are visible, but when lights are out they are invisible. When bored I devise surround sound audio systems using motors from fax machines and vibrators, and my neighbours' concave abdomens acting as receiving and transmitting dishes. I expose charlatan art critics and dodgy curators. I ghost write rejoinders for John Humphries. Last year I performed my 12-hour "Concerto for Mo Mowlem and Booing At The Audience" at the Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival. I translate barked obscenities for lost tourists in the Lake District. I elude the forces of gravity. I know how noses run and feet smell. I was born with the rare ability to produce a high pitched hum which goes beyond the limits of human hearing, and which in recent years, I’ve discovered to be extremely effective in stopping the playing of inept pub jam session bongo players. This facility, combined with a withering stare also allows me to re-direct the flight of birds. I once read Samuel Beckett's "Complete Dramatic Works", "The Sublime Aside: The History of Country and Western Lyrics" and Bateson's "Steps Towards An Ecology Of Mind" in one day and still had time to convert the loft that evening. Once, having been mistakenly kidnapped by Swiss bookies, I survived their highly specialist torture technique of "Corsned" - being forced to swallow a large piece of mouldy cheese. Having designed a new range of camouflage for MI5 based on the myriad types of British bricks in 1995, I am presently engaged in researching ways to end wars by introducing a radical new range of military uniforms based on children’s one-piece romper suits; each nationality being represented by suitably twee pastel shades. The idea being that all military combatants will be so embarrassed to be seen in such attire that they would naturally withdraw their services. I am an eye specialist. I have spoken with John Ruskin and communicated through the ether with Stanley Unwin. I am training bees to spell. I have visited Glasgow and hope to do so again.
Ongoing.
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