Accringtonia Archives - Museum of Photocopies

PINS – Rule Five: What is a Unit?

A unit can be many things, as we say in our explanation to what a unit actually is. And to be honest, we don’t really know either. Here are some images you can photocopy and use to make up units of your own, or maybe inspire you to find similar things.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of the photocopier’s partner at an exhibition in a Rotterdam dock yard. The exhibition was a retrospective that also claimed it was a vision of the future. The photocopier finds these things very tiring. Can you MAKE A UNIT using this image?

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of an Estonian television commercial from the early 1980s. Commercials weren’t allowed to be shown in Soviet Estonia but they had to be made, by law. Apparently. Maybe this is meant as a critique of the capitalist system.The bizarre nature of this image could help you define the boundaries of what your UNIT could comprise of.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a military modelling magazine from 1972. The image shows father and son (both of a British Hussar regiment, one serving, one retired, looking at a diecast mess scene with the soldiers wearing patrols). The photocopier thinks this image is part of a huge body of socio-cultural evidence of the homegrown emotional and psychological therapies service personnel used back in the 1960s and 1970s. Without them realising. Can you MAKE A UNIT using this image?

A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a book showing the cassette tape collection (classical) owned by the photocopier’s father. Such a devotion to log-keeping. All these books (there were over 50, all told) were kept under the photocopier’s father’s bed and never really used, as the cassette player broke. Can you MAKE A UNIT using these titles?

PINS – RULE FOUR: WRITE OUT ORDERS

According to the photocopy that shows the rules, we have to write out orders for each move for each unit – “without a clue to the objective.”

In writing orders and ignoring objectives, we must remember the second Golden Rule of the Buddha, or consult Old Moore’s Almanac, or at least, Shurmer’s Official Guide of Hyndburn. None of these can be found in the Yellow Pages.

MoPC-PINS-24 — A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a sketch of a photograph of a book called GOD’S FOX about a snapper and boiler attendant in an institution, who would photograph elderly inmates. The photocopier remembers instututions like this in the 1970s. Can this image help you WRITE OUT ORDERS?

MoPC-PINS-25 — A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a sketch of a photograph of the photocoper’s father playing football in the back yard with the photocopier, then aged 2. The photocopier remembers times like this in the 1970s. The air and light was different. Can this image help you WRITE OUT ORDERS?

MoPC-PINS-21 — A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a sketch out of the photocopier’s mind. The photocopier remembers daydreams like this in the 1990s. Can this image help you WRITE OUT ORDERS?

PINS – RULE TWO: FINDING SOMEONE

Do you remember the Beginning? No? Never mind. The second rule-post says we need to find someone, to tell the C.O.s to do something. Remember what or who the C.O.s are? No? Never mind. We should find someone.

I know this is difficult. There are so many people to choose from.

MopC-PINS-19 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a cut up of a now dismantled and partly salvaged piece from the front doors of a WAR DROBE – an amalgam of old drawings, photocopies and texts that I thought I would continually add to over time. But DIDN’T. Remember – order needs an architect. Maybe these images will help you FIND SOMEONE.

MopC-PINS-18 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a cut up of a now dismantled and partly salvaged piece from the front doors of a WAR DROBE – an amalgam of old drawings, photocopies and texts that I thought I would continually add to over time. But DIDN’T. Remember – I never tell anybody anything. Maybe these images will help you FIND SOMEONE.

MopC-PINS-17 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a cut up of a now dismantled and partly salvaged piece from the front doors of a WAR DROBE – an amalgam of old drawings, photocopies and texts that I thought I would continually add to over time. But DIDN’T. Remember – Me, aged 21. Maybe these images will help you FIND SOMEONE.

Maybe find someone who knows about

Aquilégia

Alb

Agrimony

Adónis

Actǣa

Anis

Átriplex

Acontíum

Aira

Coaming

PINS – The Beginning

RULE ONE: THE BEGINNING

(AKA “The Heap of Trouble is a pile of rubble.”)

The first thing to do is to say we are at the Beginning.

For all rules, please go to The Museum Curator’s Substack.

These copies will be placed regularly, and OVER TIME. The Museum will host the elements of PINS that need no explanation, they are here for you to photocopy and use, perhaps with photocopies of your own. To make your own beginnings.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph from the late 1950s, maybe very early 1960s of The Curator’s mother and aunt and a family friend from Norway. They are posing in the back garden of a house near St Christopher’s High School and Moorhead High School, once Accrington Grammar School for Girls. Maybe this image will help you BEGIN PINS.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph from the the Libyan Desert, “acquired” from a German POW by The Curator’s great uncle, who served there in the Second World War. Yes, it’s Rommel. That is what the inscription on the back of the photo says. Maybe this image will help you BEGIN PINS.

PINS is a game for all anonymous egos, everywhere, made through repositioning and reproducing old dreams and documents.

A photograph of a photocopy of a list of orders from the original game of PINS, made by the Curator’s father. The Curator thinks his father had only really sorted these four lines of text. Maybe this can be your Beginning for PINS.

A photograph of a photocopy of a list of the various Electors of one of the imaginary continents from the original game of PINS, made by the Curator’s father. Note the focus on the mid C18th. Very important. Maybe this can be your Beginning for PINS.

A photocopy of a colour photo of an oil painting made by The Curator at the turn of the Millennium, now destroyed. This is the only surviving record. Maybe this can be your Beginning for PINS.

Clayton Orange Alternative

We must take our luck where we can. Hence a dreamlike visitation of Wrocław’s Krasnoludek in East Lancashire. Victorian streets that cling on in the gloaming, spaces where schools and factories were, pubs that made way for motorways. We need a better narrative. Myths are needed to make us feel noticed, or carefree, again.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-1 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. A Wrocław Krasnoludek, mounted on a ceremonial C17th lion, hails the future.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-4 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. An early dinosaur eats a Beatles hanger on amidst the rubble of St James’ Infants school.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-2 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, photocopy collage, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. The spirit of long lost pub The Load of Mischief unchained and Central American in aspect.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-3 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. Note the Edward VII postbox. And blue feathered shaman. The head is that of Sir Philip Sydney.

The Memory Vortex – Stasis #2

In the Spring of 2000, the Photocopier left England to live in a caravan in the Netherlands. He took a lot of pictures before leaving and on arriving.

Back then, photographs were taken on a camera. Some turned out well, some didn’t. Some are of a Lancashire long gone, some of a Holland just discovered but now disappeared for ever.

What remains in these photocopies of photographs is the stasis, the time that never existed, the time that floated around not asking to be captured. That’s the time that stays with us when we see it again.

An A4 photocopy of a photograph taken just before the Photocopier moved to the Netherlands. Treated with filters and adjustments on his ASUS laptop. Where do we go when everything is closed to us?

An A4 photocopy of two photographs, taken just before and long before the Photocopier moved to the Netherlands. No filters or adjustments. Memories of sitting down and staring into space. Another form of stasis.

The Memory Vortex – Stasis #1

In the Spring of 2000, the Photocopier left England to live in a caravan in the Netherlands. He took a lot of pictures before leaving and on arriving.

Back then, photographs were taken on a camera. Some turned out well, some didn’t. Some are of a Lancashire long gone, some of a Holland just discovered but now disappeared for ever.

An A4 photocopy of photograph staken just after the Photocopier moved to the Netherlands. Treated with filters and adjustments on his ASUS laptop. FEBO, Pearle Opticians and terraces. Staples all. And all still here. But just not these ones.

An A4 photocopy of photographs taken just before and after the Photocopier moved to the Netherlands. Treated with filters and adjustments on his ASUS laptop. Abandoned promotional lorries in Dutch fields. Plastic coated netting surrounding a sump pit near Accrington Stanley, all now long gone.

Entering the Memory Vortex #2

Let’s introduce one new thing by talking about another. Let’s not. Let’s do nothing, but stare at memories of the East Lancashire Moors. For what else is there to do? We can wander round places we have never ever been to, that’s what. Let’s enter the Memory Vortex.

Memory Vortex - Lancashire Moors #3 — A photograph (iphone7) of a photocopy of a PDF file of a scan of a freehand Indian ink drawing on paper. Here is a shepherd and a delivery truck. These are the Modern Times on the East Lancashire moors. This is what is going on there.

Memory Vortex - Lancashire Moors #4 — A photograph (iphone7) of a photocopy of a PDF file of a scan of a freehand Indian ink drawing on paper. Here is a model with an outsized vegetable and the ubiquitous abandoned bath. These are the Modern Times on the East Lancashire moors. This is what is going on there.

Memory Vortex - Lancashire Moors #5 — A photograph (iphone7) of a photocopy of a PDF file of a scan of a freehand Indian ink drawing on paper. Here is a Hen Harrier with an abandoned dwelling, a gnome and more modern rubbish. These are the Modern Times on the East Lancashire moors. This is what is going on there.

Entering the Memory Vortex #1

Memory Vortex - Lancashire Moors #1 — A photograph (iphone7) of a photocopy of a PDF file of a scan of a freehand Indian ink drawing on paper. These are the Modern Times on the East Lancashire moors. This is what is going on there.

Memory Vortex - Lancashire Moors #2 — A photograph (iphone7) of a photocopy of a PDF file of a scan of a freehand Indian ink drawing on paper. Here is an owl and the detritus of modern life. And there is a blasted tree. These are the Modern Times on the East Lancashire moors. This is what is going on there.

The Theory of the Duck #3

There is good and there is evil. In between, somewhere, is the duck.

These words, spoken by Accrington artist and visionary Tim Whittaker, come back to haunt us in these ribald, brittle, stretched months of 2020 and 2021, where ghosts of the threshing floor rise to meet us.

These photocopies hark back to another, happier time and maybe presage a third.

We just need to locate the duck.

You have to act. Burn them, commune with their indolent, witless, stolid spirit. Or photocopy them endlessly to erase their presence.
Maybe you can draw on humanity’s creative commons to give you another answer. It’s what the internet is for.

I’m staying in my lane. To be precise, Hollins Lane. But that stops in Baxenden. Where then?