the grammatical era's end

'spool'

2006-04-17T21:17:00.000Z

Read this in a Guardian online article today:

"I don't understand what Samuel Beckett's works are about, but I don't understand what a swim in the ocean is about. I just love the flow of the water over my body." - Brendan Behan.

Such a perfect antidote to the tiresome attempts by people,
of all shapes, of all sizes, running jumping, all classes,
to understand too much without actually engaging with the text.
A housemate and I particularly agree with the sheer pleasure involved in Beckett,
that of looking at the shape and formulation of the words -
like Beckett and Krapp's own enjoyment of the word 'spool' in Krapp's Last Tape -
and being allowed to be washed over by them:
allowing yourself to be free from comprehension and free to enjoy the actual work.

le cinéma et le théatre

2006-02-16T10:32:00.000Z

Having made the decision to go to the cinema, instead of to bed, I am now returned and agog at what I have seen.
If anyone should have the opportunity, and the mind, to view Hidden (Caché) – you frankly must.
Not once in attending the cinema have I ever experience so much air sucked into so many lungs in one instance;
and I cannot have been the only one in the audience to have shrunk deep into my chair, hoping that my heart would not turn itself inside at the stunning moment.

Quite a wonderful film-maker, Michael Haneke is. I was much more repulsed at the shocking moment in The Piano Teacher (2001) but then violence had been quite central during the final third of the film; Hidden’s is only ever a suspected violence, a feeling of inevitability. The tangibility of the menace is stunning though – and that is precisely why Haneke is a great film-maker, with his actors actually ensuring an audience feels something.
Haneke has reminded me of Godard’s mid-to-late ‘60s movies during my whirlwind courtship of his films: the meaningful, though seemingly aimless, ambling of characters; the lingering camera-work, yet filled with jarring editing techniques; male-female relationships, their inherent power struggles and quest for truth; unspoken pasts affecting the present. The sequence where Majid divorces the rooster’s head from its body and then the documentation of its nerve-shocked body flapping, jerking and bouncing around is quite clearly in simpatico with Godard’s goose decapitation and pig-slaughter in Week-End (1967). That we should become agitated by these ‘brutal’ moments, when compared to the actions people perform upon each-other on a daily basis needs a couple of eyebrows raising. Haneke is much less polemical and more subtle than Godard’s hectic ‘65-‘68 films – perhaps in part due to a lack genuine politics to be outspoken for more, more politics to merely be depressed by – and thus often seems cynical and removed from events. Of genuine intrigue, and worthy of praise, is that Haneke focuses upon middle-class characters – often in a superficially sympathetic manner – in order to express the ills of the world. In The Piano Teacher, the central characters are a sexually repressed, though without doubt fantastically perverse, piano teacher and a smug little cunt of a rich boy. The repression and evils done between these two is stunning, serving well to query convention, for what reasons we allow ourselves to be bowed by society and the ease with which our prejudices are brought to the surface. Code Unknown (2000, Haneke again) features a montage like cast of varying classes, though more attention seems to be paid to the wealthy and indulgent lifestyle afforded to Juliette Binoche’s character. The juxtaposition of illegal immigrants begging, an African man being punished for getting into a fight with an obnoxious white boy, the romanticised yet heavy rural farm work, and the laissez-faire freedom of the Parisian middle-classes is something that Haneke created five years ago in order to articulate the prejudicial inequalities of modern Paris, and metonymically Europe/the world. The fact it took five years for those concerns to have achieved some kind of violent and vocal expression on behalf of those focussed upon and hinted at – the marginalised, ignored and vilified North Africans and Eastern Europeans pushed to the derelict outskirts of Paris – is some kind of miracle. As Haneke gracefully notes, France is still in deep deep denial about its actions against Algeria in the 1960s, the massacres and war, and perhaps this is why it fails to approach its growing population of North Africans, though why it is incredibly indignant towards British involvement in Iraq is a little tough to swallow. I think, for the very fact that I have inspired to actually sit down and type (badly or otherwise), Michael Haneke is an extraordinary talent and one which I hope to follow over the years. Whether I like it or not.

On other subjects, I shall be attending the Crucible theatre tonight to view Sam West’s production of Howard Brenton’s The Romans In Britian. I am both extremely excited and incredibly tentative. I have scanned, briefly, the reviews by the Berliner-sheets and other sources, but do not wish really to become bogged down in it. There seems to be far too much to actually review regarding this play, at this point in time, that is outside of the production: it is new artistic director Sam West’s first direction at the Crucible, it is the first professional run of the play in twenty-five years, and everyone seems so fucking pleased with themselves by being able to draw parallels between Brenton’s play and current events in Iraq. I dearly hope that it is simply an aggressive, well-produced and tightly performed play. I am guaranteed a healthy dose of polemic – though hopefully not half as much as last year’s dreadful production of Edward Bond’s Lear which appeared to have aged well before its time, amply supported by a terrifically inaccurate, over-indulgent performance by ‘the man who played the emperor in Star Wars’ - which I imagine will be dated slightly, as everything political before 1989 has, yet still has a valid place in the theatre. The inevitability of comparison with Iraq is a rather laboured and dim-witted conclusion, with Brenton already having made the relationship between occupying forces and colonial struggle quite visible in his text. Nonetheless, I am highly eager to go, though I find theatre-in-the-round quite vile. I have problems accepting the authenticity of performance anyway, without some pig excavating a Mintoe or blood-clotted snot across the auditorium.

I am currently reading The Orton Diaries, wherein John Lahr has compiled the last nine months of Joe Orton’s diaries before his horrific murder by long-term partner Kenneth Halliwell in August 1967. Though the man appears to be quite vile and searingly unpleasant company, he is definitely one of the most charismatic characters on paper. It is an horrifically guilty pleasure to read of his cutting remarks regarding Kenneth Williams (of which there are many, despite being very close), his tale of seven-man gay orgies in public toilets, trips to Libya and sex with 13 year-olds. Aside from that though, the entries referencing Kenneth Halliwell are very interesting; K. H. is clearly suffering from severe depression and possible psychotic episodes, but Orton is either unaware of the severity or avoidant of the issue in his diary. I am tearing through it at a rate of knots and will no doubt feel bad when the final entry Orton makes is regarding an argument with K. H. Very fascinating read, and full of licentious detail of the theatre world.

I have gone on, so shall go off.

Noble Prize for Honesty

2005-12-08T15:10:00.000Z

HAROLD PINTER'S NOBEL PRIZE FOR LITERATURE ACCEPTANCE SPEECH

you would be a fucking idiot not to take it in your head.

when in Berkshire

2005-12-07T13:35:00.000Z

also,
i don't know if you've ever been,
but the daily mail is an incredibly fun experience,
like when the Victorians used to travel Down's Syndrome kids
and flog them for a bottle of laudanum.
if you click on THIS HIGHLIGHTED TEXT you can visit the latest
Mail caption competition (i.e. secondary school 'satire' of Labour)
and check out the,
in parentheses,
'witty or clever captions.'
do not forget to bathe after closing the link though.

when in Rome.

2005-12-07T13:20:00.000Z

i feel like i should write an obligatory 'review' of ATP,
i probably will skirt around it at some point,
but i found this much more interesting for now:

Mr (Robbie) Williams was not in court for the settlement but his counsel, Tom Shields QC, told Mr Justice Eady: "Mr Williams is not, and has never been, homosexual."*

The court heard that in August 2004 the People, owned by MGN, published a report headlined "Robbie's secret gay lover" alleging that he was about to deceive the public with the publication of a book, Feel, written in cooperation with Chris Heath, who had lived alongside the singer from 2002 to 2004. According to Mr Shields, the paper claimed that while in the book Mr Williams was "pretending" that his only sexual relations had been with women, "in reality he was a homosexual who had engaged in casual and sordid homosexual encounters with strangers".

*i thought this was a particularly interesting point for a legal case to hinge upon,
that he could change,
whimsically,
like socks,
his sexuality from time to time.
also, yesterday the jobsworthy moralism of the Daily Mail led with a headline
of Labour undermining the institution of marriage,
the ease people can get married and the ease with which they divorce.
i am sure,
without any doubt,
that there can be no relationship between this leader and the fact that
as of 1st December homosexuals can be united in marriage through a civil ceremony
and recieve (most of) the same legal benefits as heterosexual married couples.

"Pansies can not have families, because they spend all their money on lace and lubricant."
(D. Mail, 6/12/05)

i attended a civil ceremony a week or so ago
between two men (gay) just prior to the new law,
but as a public declaration of love and intent to sign the register when it was legal.
the registrar kept disclaiming the legality of the act she was performing
"this ceremony is essentially meaningless and is merely a declaration, and is not legally binding nor legally valid."
very romantic.
it was excellent though,
really truthful love.

born

2005-11-18T16:34:00.000Z

yes,
another link
but if you have £22,
or even if you don't,
you should probably absolutely indulge in it to the hilt.

Up the Gary

2005-11-18T16:20:00.000Z

he's at it again,
good news though:
"Sexual abuse of children has a maximum penalty of death in Vietnam."
Go 'Nam.

Shock of Writing

2005-11-17T14:24:00.000Z

The ringing in Pitchfork's increasingly embittered and incorrigible deaf ears
is evident in its terrible review of Make Believe's Shock of Being,
which as Paul gladly points out
(now he is again, at least sporadically, posting)
is fucking amazing.
If you do not hear it,
you probably are an idiot.
Or an embittered ex-scene commercial enterprise.

tut tut

2005-11-02T13:31:00.000Z

"Jestrovic had clashed with the Mali international and, in front of the official, is claimed to have muttered "Fuck off, black" at Sissoko in the 75th minute."

WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

2005-10-27T13:15:00.000Z

also,
i'm getting increasingly annoyed by these WAYN('where are you now?') and suchlike organisations' e-mails.
the people who instigate these are people i used to know,
or have been friends with,
perhaps even shared an e-mail with but of no consequence whatsoever.
the gist is "hey what you upto, i care?"
which,
if done through an automated service proposed to you,
shows the exact opposite.
if you cared,
i guess you'd just do a fucking e-mail, a phone-call or something.
fuck that and the people that do them right off.

live music

2005-10-27T13:10:00.000Z

the godly sent duo of Vegetables are still hopefully playing
in our pissy little city on Saturday.
even better,
they're on early enough (3?) that i can be rowdy without having to sack off work.
unfortunately, the fuzz club is a fucking shitpie and hasn't organised itsen.
i for one will lash a five pound paper aeroplane to stage in protest.
you'd be a properly bad spazz to miss this performance.

mudd up!

2005-10-25T11:15:00.000Z

c90 sparks'n'soot spectacular:
dj/rupture (soot, tigerbeat6)
c90 are proud to present the extra special gunpowder plot that is dj rupture!
Jace Clayton, a man intent on unwrapping music, his legendary 3-turntable sets tear down borders: soaring middle eastern voices ride nasty basslines, hip hop and dancehall meet in Beirut while chopperblades shimmer overhead, punctuated by stabs of searing junglist breakbeats and rounds of sub low grime riddims.

Rupture's Barcelona-based subterranean label Soot releases 'diasporicbreakbeats' sounds that are international in scope, defying nationality and genre, yet are relentlesslydanceable.
his infamous 'gold teeth thief' mix, a set which devours and recontextualizes bigtime pop tunes alongside violently blasted beatscapes, has had over 80,000 downloads.
The threat that it should descend into chaos is never far, but rupture's pinpoint turntable accuracy keep sthe tightrope taut.

+ support tbc
+ c90 djs bringing the gunpowder
Saturday 5th November@ The Runaway Girl, 111 Arundel St, Sheffield, S1 2TN8:30 - 12:00 £6

get in.

spite it out

2005-10-20T13:22:00.000Z

review of the sublime joan of arc presents guitar duets
on pitchfork;
once again, it is worth reading for the unallaying spite they reserve for them,
despite pitchfork's new goal of trying to flog CDs via Insound.
go view.

free, free from hygienic responsibility

2005-10-18T12:53:00.000Z

so tired,
but very excited.
have started planning for my dissertation and ARHC proposal
now that i am not working full-time at the cinema any more.
Granted, this has only been for a week,
but the gruelling conditions of SIDF
are really draining.
i am now just grateful that the self-perpetuating
tubs of vaseline that are the London Media
have skulked back to their porcelain-panelled hives.
it is very easy to hate the physical presence of The Media,
but there were a few very pleasant people.
so now i am (back) to books and such.
such also being the bared chest and animal livers that were being exposed
during the set of Kevin Blechdom on Thursday.
it is very odd for Sheffield,
which prides itself on its electronic heritage,
for it to actually have a decent electronica gig to show for itself.
(actually, i am doing an injustice,
as recently the C90 people are doing more ambitious things,
as are Razor Stiletto and KHLA)
anyway, i enjoyed all and was amazed truth told.
so many people with so many balls doing so many sounds that are so many types of good.
the fact that Kevin Blechdom proceeded to rub her tits with liver
and it not to seem desperate or deliberately perverse,
yet quite quite natural in the circumstance,
is testament to how confidently audacious it all was.
more people should make better music.
speaking of that,
i found these links to musical live tracks of the Joan Of Orchestra,
some might have seen them before, but i had missed it previously:
[any typographical errors, not mine]

1. Joan of Arc # 5 http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1O2IXP9LV4WQG0D7GVV4ZVE3DQ
2. Half Deaf Girl Named Echo/80s Dance Parties http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2DWADXE2RXD7D3GM4TA403QJ0J
3. gripped by the lips http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=216AF8S3E3X2T3GQACJV3AAFZ9
4. abigail, cops, and animals http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=0RRBOU2RA6NFS2MSG3FHA3236M
5. Queasy Lynn http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=3EMRUDAYXHM0Y1X1WHC33TK5QV
6. staying alive and lovelessness http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1VM9U7CHLHW7N0T3LZB4A59T2O 7. Whiteout http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1UDDE0UENSFPO0IPCWL0NB2NHU
8. Fleshy Jeffrey http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2FO5A1VUO8HA634ZHBWOC586ZB
9. Questioning ben franklin's ghost http://s46.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=3LRJTHX7F51GG3TMQOKTCDIS18 10. Who's afraid of Elizabeth Taylor? http://s42.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=3GEKWLCU628WL09SRONPQEX3ET
11. when the parish school dismisses and the children running sing http://s42.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1QX5DHOBPB22F1053C5K302DAZ
12. Onomatopoeaic animal faces http://s39.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=16P8Q4V20OD2O1K91WNVR3FC8O

comrades! brothers!

2005-10-11T11:38:00.000Z

the existence of this man,
ian saville,
is truly heart-warming.
go and sing Keep The Red Flag Flying whilst whipping out a bunny.

john's a-peeling to young men

2005-10-10T17:56:00.000Z

having read the confession and allegations
of John Peel's teenage handjobs and public loo rape,
i feel compelled to write a fictional autobiography.
i could think of no more amusing thing than,
after my death,
a good friend being sullied with the label of a dirty nonce,
a reformed crack addict,
perhaps, even, a Conservative sympathiser.
i would like to think Peel himself merely felt
a little impish when creating his memoirs.

what'a 18" inches long, hard and makes faggots squeal with pleasure?

2005-10-07T15:26:00.000Z

so so stoked on this.
just need to learn to play the fucker.
the black cow ep is currently being mixed by all three,
separately,
and artwork is supposed to be getting off the ground shortly.
end of October,
brace yourselfs.
also,
dead stoked on the C90 rave off tomorrow night.

found

2005-09-25T13:25:00.000Z

Get That Out Of Your Mouth: I heard that some of them just come up on stage-- like your violin player just showed up two years ago and ended up joining the band.

George Clinton: Yes.

GTOOYM: So how does that work out? [laughs]

GC: I don't question the funk.

riot 1995

2005-09-22T14:37:00.000Z

today, i remembered these:

Ket in the attic

2005-09-06T10:31:00.000Z

"Ketamine has now established its place alongside the usual dance scene drugs like ecstasy. It is popular in pre-club bars and has a big following in both gay and straight clubs. It is being taken with other dance drugs by middle-class people who like to party hard at the weekend and then go back to work in the week."

also,

"The price of heroin has halved in the past year in Sheffield to £25 a gram, making it the cheapest in Britain."

that has to be a good sign?

2005-09-05T22:29:00.000Z

p.s.
i am like buses.

hava nagilah

2005-09-05T22:27:00.000Z

this wonderful place
has a regular column entitled 'Foreskin of The Month.'
worth a visit,
but i guess their webhosting is always being asked to move along.

sent west in the north west

2005-09-05T19:02:00.000Z

trawling through my dad's music,
I have chanced upon Countrymen by Willie Nelson.*
I figured to put it on,
but there really is no explaining the content aside from it being
lap steel reggae.
my head is completely disrupted by this experience.
should anyone have the opportunity,
get in on it.

* it was also produced by Don Was, of Was (Not Was) fame.

interim e.p.

2005-09-05T00:27:00.000Z

i started
and got a lengthy way into a post,
but i have not the gusto to finish it.
instead i shall leave this:
my foot has the same type of pain in a similar place
as the time i tore my ankle ligaments.
here is hoping.
i will try to finish the other,
possibly,
more interesting post tomorrow.

the future of fight music

2005-09-01T09:54:00.000Z

simon says
some intriguing things on an ideal music.
at the same time,
it sounds like it may remind me a little of early ATR.

turnaraound

2005-08-31T11:41:00.000Z

average joe:hawaii

i was watching the first half of this
whilst supping ceylon and eating my rice crispies this morning,
but left the house to do things.
i am upset,
i thought she was going to the weasly guy who dug baseball more than fanny,
not the guy with the small pecker from the swamps.
that is life, i guess.

down and out in sheffield and wirral

2005-08-31T10:34:00.000Z

i came here to redirect here to this;
i flagrantly assume most will do a read of it anyway,
but it does pay to promote.
in other news,
i'm decidedly bottom of the first fantasy football league
i have entered in eight years -
precisely minus one point.
terrible.
obviously, i have supported newcastle for too long.

since leaving the work,
such joy of joys,
i have mainly been strolling around like the lord of the manor,
purchasing hoummous and kettle chips as if a sense of right was within them.
however,
i am now set to skulk in a rather unfortunate manner,
like an unintentional, unliterary Eric Blair
as i am penniless and bereft of means to earn.
still,
it is what i failed to budget for.
i am no good at this any more,
all rusty.
go read something else,
like an article on springsteen perhaps?

Sheffield, Year Zero.

2005-08-15T10:11:00.000Z

today i went
here
here
and here.

last salary payday today,
so buy albums that i will not be able to afford
for at least a year.
i am free again,
so i hope that my muscles and mind will limber up.
perhaps this will kick start istelf.
in the mean-time,
read the better entran[ts](ce) on the right of your eyes.

legal & governance

2005-08-12T11:58:00.000Z

Current Security Situation:
Cabinet Office have reviewed the AMBER Alert State across the Government estate and advised that the level can be reduced to BLACK SPECIAL with immediate effect except within the Whitehall area of London. Buildings in the Whitehall area remain on AMBER alert.

i cannot be the only person who finds the level of security
being a black special
greatly amusing?

i was cold, i was naked, where you there?

2005-07-06T12:43:00.000Z

Shock!
Outrage!
Disgust!
Just three words the daily mail used about Jacques Chirac.
Today,
in response to his sweeping jingoisms about roast beef,
the mail has concluded that this makes it
perfectly acceptable
to respond with a two-page spread of french jokes
and articles on “why the french should piss off and mind their bloody business.”
Should you happen to be in an office,
you can no doubt pick up the dirty copy that somehow makes its way onto the coffee table,
without anyone claiming responsibility;
or as Joe suggests,
just get on a train and read the person next to you’s copy.
I would like to welcome Paul back,
wholeheartedly,
and feel that I ought to come back properly soon myself.
It is all very tiring and monged at the minute though,
we will see.

ambinews straight to your eye

2005-06-01T17:39:00.000Z

http://tigerbeat6.com/index.php?id=3_1

or if you cannot be bothered to click on the link,
here is the basic and important text

Kid606 - Resilience
(released 25th July 2005)

"Kid606 didn't want to die without releasing "Resilience". Comprised of 12 songs composed In many places at home and on tour, from the isolated coldness of Stavenger, Norway to the claustrophobic heat of Athens, Greece. Most noticeable will be the undiluted rhythmic strength of the music, derived from the most primal elements of dancehall, dub, house and hip-hop tweaked just enough to not sink into the formulaic complacence which most instrumental electronica suffers from. This record will be a surprise to many familiar with the almost schizophrenic range of Kid606's output over the years, but rest assured this is Kid606 at his most natural and uninhibited element. Individually these songs all have there own unique identity for the listener to decide upon, but together they are intended to make a cohesive statement of love, depression, nostalgia, psychedelia, escapism and the overall contradictory nature of trying to be happy in a life you don't have control over but won't end anytime soon. In his own words" this is my favorite album because I had so much internal pressure and inspiration to make these songs, but no external pressure to ever make an album out of it or worry about deadlines or how it would be receive. None of these songs are about being naive and discovering things like my past releases, but all about successfully transferring what I heard in my head into songs and then into an album I always wanted to make"

on my travels

2005-05-30T11:16:00.000Z

whilst wandering briefly around the inter
i have found this beauty.
who would ever have thought Birmingham would contain,
on one day,
Stephen O'Malley Vs Merzbow
BTTLS
and Dälek.
for £25 for the two days,
it could be a possible goer.
unlike barçelona.

broad strokes

2005-05-30T10:24:00.000Z

bank holiday:
the only record you need
the only clothes you need
the only drink you need

death to the fascist insect that preys on the life of the people

2005-05-28T16:50:00.000Z

i am so excited for Guerilla when it hits screen,
the whole patty hearst thing is absolutely mental.
i must admit,
i was unaware of the above phrase until Raspberry Reich
and thought it LaBruce being an over-the-top sloganeerer,
but that it actually was a fully-fledged
denunciation by the Symbionese Liberation Army
is beyond mental.
so excited for how absolutely off the scale it is going to be.

boys will do boys

2005-05-28T11:55:00.000Z

in checking the referrals
on the old sitemeter
it always confuses me.
granted,
i receive a lot of traffic from the blogs on the right,
mainly first, second, third and fourth,
but i get a lot of mexican/spanish referrals.
today,
i got a referral from this place.
i would say it is 'not worksafe'
because it has anal congas and fingers in bumholes.
pornography excels in every medium,
it is the only reason to further technology:
to see how disgusting we can ultimately make ourselves.

boys will be boys

2005-05-27T23:49:00.000Z

google image search
so good.
i was looking for a picture of 'A Northern Town'
but i found this,
which i am equally happy with.

after the fact

2005-05-27T23:06:00.000Z

people often do not tell you things
until they have already happened.
so many people
get pregnant,
only to tell you when they have had an abortion;
lose their hair,
only to tell you they have just beaten their battle
with lymphatic cancer;
someone close to me just told he does not have AIDs.
i did not have a clue he could have it.
apparently,
working in close proximity to junkies,
having received a strong prick from a bloody needle,
for the last six months
he has had a quite horrific fear of death hanging over his head.
you get a massive rush of emotions.
it is in the wrong order though:
oh that's amazing!
i missed out on the worry,
how come i get to be relieved?
people are always trying to not tell you things
save on the worry;
but they then miss out on the full hurrah of well-being.
shame that.
nice for them though,
in the end.

their music

2005-05-25T10:48:00.000Z

also,
Wig Wam of Norway
on Eurovision were fucking brilliant.
who won?
some fucking jarg gypsies from Greece or some third-rate resort.
still
Wogan buzzing off the Klitchko brothers
almost
made up for the disappointment

our music

2005-05-25T10:33:00.000Z

from Peter Bradshaw's review of Notre Musique:

"a deadpan Godard plays himself, apparently improvising scenes, puffing a cigar and whimsically claiming that Hungary's 6-3 victory over England at Wembley in 1953 was the last great triumph for socialism because the English played individually and the Hungarians collectively"

(there's a Guardian interview with JLG here, as well)

Godard is always interesting,
whether you are well into him
or well against him.
there is a brief,
and quite pleasant,
interview with him in this month's Sight & Sound,
coupled with an article on Jerry Lewis:
it is as if Cahiers was still around.

abc, easy as onetwothree

2005-05-24T18:34:00.000Z

i have not posted for a little while,
as i currently
well out of it.
i have had my skills moved department
in order for a drunk and disorderly lad
take my job
and for my mind to rot in a repetitive and dire hole.
that is two days in.
i have three months of endorsing things
before i can leave.
the world is massively bent.
i could say what i have done,
but i will not,
as i am still reeling from my reversion to poverty
having spent my entire salary in a week.
i am currently kicking myself,
but there is a throng willing to heckle with disparaging phrases.

life irritating 'art'

2005-05-12T12:00:00.000Z

life imitating 'art'

2005-05-12T11:47:00.000Z

earlier,
channel five news stated this:

"the question the jury has to ask themselves is whether Michael Jackson is a wounded sparrow, or a vulture; whether he is a Peter Pan.. or a Peter Phile."

mental.
so glad i am not in work today.

i am unsure why,
but i found this quite amusing reading
i am dead excited for gardening when i am older.
i learnt from my Granny every weekend
for about four or five years,
so i should be decent.

myspace again

2005-05-08T12:48:00.000Z

i'm so in love with the foul side of the world:
http://groups.myspace.com/sexworkersunite

apart from the despicable mings at offbeat.
i went with graeme, warren and megan,
to either be surprised or cement my opinion.
i was cemented.
for a fall special,
they play a lot of rubbish fey music.
lots of tidily dressed people dressing up
and being coy.
graeme and i conspired to woo and break a girl's heart
in the space of the four hours.
he was so close.
an absolute gent.
the wife's gone to Prague for the week,
so i am to be sat twiddling my thumbs
and perhaps trying to read for a change.

sunday bloody sunday

2005-05-08T12:28:00.000Z

my fingers stink of bacon rind.
it's that swinging line between totally ace,
and particularly grim.
not as grim as an image i happened upon,
upon my way here,
that of a squirrel spead-eagled on its back,
distinctly dead,
with a wall's stone on it.
a big bastard stone.
it appeared that he had been the victim of Queen Mary's
stone torture,
but by militant Catholic squirrels.

more.

2005-05-06T14:42:00.000Z

oh yes,
i forgot to mention:
Reg Keys speech of defeat in Sedgefield.
mental.
i got quite emotional inside,
and Tony Blair looked a mixture of terrified and deeply upset.
a very good speech from an amateur politican.
only a few heckles throughout,
Nazi Scum at the BNP
(amusingly announced as the National Front by a returning officer,
although some National Front "British For The British/Stop Immigrants Now"
did actually stand.
vile.)
and
How do you sleep, Mr Blair,
How do you sleep?
we concluded he probably has very plush bedding
and possibly a blindfold aid to stop the sunlight.
at least he is not mental off sleep deprivation like that
frigging abortive disgrace of the '80s.

nick griffin's hands

2005-05-06T14:31:00.000Z

irony hits a new low.

ta ra, love.

2005-05-06T14:21:00.000Z

Na na naaa na
Na na naaa na
HEEEEEEYYY
GOOOODBYYYEEEEE!

in the heart of the heart of the city

2005-05-06T13:42:00.000Z

thanks to dj//rupture for the title,
i never asked,
but it is really pleasant nonetheless.
i fell asleep last night during the election coverage,
twice.
it really was very amusing,
a lot of candidates and MPs actually
behaved like real people for a change:
Ken Clarke jovially mocking his own bloated arrogance,
Blindkett jipping Paxman,
and Boris Johnson conceding that there would be a Tory government
'someday!'
All the while,
the teddy bears had their picnic.
Exit polls suggested a reduced majority of sixty-six,
for once actually on the nose.
Accordingly,
Blair needs only thirty-four rebels to placate
in order to do things.
so Today,
is a different Government to yesterday,
they say.
Apparently,
it is great news.
Now we do not have a Mandate Dictatorship,
but we have a leader
who,
although not necessarily right all the time,
leads by actions and policies
now has to compromise a lot.
it is a little like Thatcher's days.
apart from she roundly turned her career around with an unjust war on an underarmed colony,
whilst Blair's war is still under debate.
She nearly blew it before '83,
then ruled with a Soviet Fist
and had to start actually compromising in her last days.
Tony Blair shedding a tear as he leaves Downing Street in two years?
i voted for the Lib Dems,
because it really did not matter.
voting Lib Dems allows me the luxury of not having a Tory government
and not having the responsibility or anxiety if it all goes tits up in the
Third Term.
what a faggot.
that is the Lib Dem way.
I would have voted Labour,
but it was a certainty anyway
all Sheffield is Labour apart from Hallam.
In the rest of the country,
George Galloway stopped short of getting badly blacked up
to win votes,
but still succeeded in inching his
oversized girth and head into the Commons;
a Nationalist Socialist (a welshman)
could not explain to Paxman what merit his actual victory in Blaenae Gwent
had in the end - "well, it is a message, ennet, a kick en the teeth to hem."
One disturbing thing to arise
is how well the BNP did.
getting,
it said,
five percent of votes cast in consitutencies they stood.
around fifteen-hundred to two thousand people
in too many consitutencies
are willing to acknowledge in an official ballot:
I Am A Fucking Ignorant Prick Who Loves Racism and Hates the Darks.
Nick Griffin was his vile smug self,
four thousand people charmed by a man who 'subtly' wears a white tie
in Keighley.
bloody horrid.
my mind is dead monged,
it is a good job i am supposed to be off to Arlton Towers tomorrow.
Battles 3rd June is supposed to growing in its immensity.
i need to get sorted out.
payday cannot come soon enough,
bloody Gregorian calendar.

thy space

2005-04-26T16:52:00.000Z

well funny

myspace is amazing.
it is sociology
without the need to physically mix with vile and undesirable people.

i can't wait to lob my shoes

2005-04-21T17:11:00.000Z

why do people send "e-diaries" from internet cafés
when they go somewhere you have not?
if i went to San Francisco,
i would be too busy rolling down the hill
or trying to find sharks
than to look on this fucking thing
and type hundreds of words to people
who probably do not read them.
it is okay to do it in Sheffield,
though,
because it is on my way home for tea.
i can't think of a bridge.
some confusion over the last post's picture.
i posted it because i was sat at home last saturday
thinking about the election,
and how amusingly atrocious the Tories' campaign is.
I longed,
after calming my laughs,
for a return to when politics was borderline truthful;
when horrifically caricatured pictures of Idi Amin
splayed themselves in all the rags.
It also amused me greatly at how Idi Amin
completely embodied everything that the Mail
is petrified of:
an unequivocally black man,
with power,
and medals,
and a wealth of insanity,
and a penchant for killing and eating people.
Oh, if such a primitive barbarian can rule a country,
what will happen to US?
again, i lost my point in a spurt of syntax.
earlier in the day,
i locked the key for a drawer
with all the other keys
for all the offices
for all my work
and all the offices' work
in the drawer.
i am in shit tomorrow morning.
but for now,
paul and joe are complete bastards.
too often, when it is quiet for a little,
their bloody gobs spring words into my ears.
they get stuck there
and
i sit there with nothing to do but get taken along.
how do you write horrifically catchy songs that are actually good?
i was going to use a lyric of paul's for the post,
but that would be rude,
so i will simply put it here:
'you don't always have to have what you don't want.'
well stuck.
oh yeah,
i got accepted onto my masters course.
i am well pleased,
without the energy to express it.
i have decided to not give much notice to my boss
of when i am leaving,
because she generally arls on me a lot.
so that is good news.

dem were de days, mon

2005-04-16T16:27:00.000Z

scum

2005-04-16T13:51:00.000Z

napalm death
under the boardwalk
4th June
well into it.

cartes business

2005-04-16T00:37:00.000Z

sometimes it's better not to
post when you are well monged from work.
that last post was horrifically ill-realised,
a true testament to the draining effects
of seven and a half hours of mindless work.
i knew my points,
but my powers of expression are drained to(o) little.
i will get around to a proper one day.
until then,
just don't.
i have the distinct pleasure of being
in liverpool for the last couple of days.
it usually is a pleasure to grace myself with such
well-stocked people as are met there.
i would say more,
but i ought to fuck off and do one into bed.
so i shall.
this is bad now,
i can never remember what i think
when confronted with the WYSIWG screen.
i will get over it.

telling tall stories to small people

2005-04-12T17:09:00.000Z

the Southern Records shop is open now,
which is good,
although not entirely cheap.

i have
finally
started to be interested by the Godard biography,
which i bought long last year.
the author wittered on about irrelevant facts for too long,
but now he got into a lot of meat about post-1789 France
and it's interesting.
He actually is talking about Jean-Luc himself now.
i am often overly amused by his portrayal in this book though.
Colin MacCabe,
as only English academics can,
is given to over-romanticising the working classes,
to the extent that he is ascribing Godard their 'dignity'.
Godard is,
first and foremost,
a ridiculously middle-class man:
having been born into two of the most important High Protestant families France has ever offered,
and flitting between Paris and Switzerland,
studying and dropping out,
swanning off 'round South America,
taking the benefits of parental people who know people jobs.
as a youth,
Godard does appear an aimless man with interests in the arts,
which can only be afforded through the
financial
benevolence of his immediate and extended rich family.
Yet MacCabe suggests a struggle of hardship,
he respects Godard's frequent thefts of rare books
from his father
as rebellion against the middle-classes,
and,
implicitly linking Godard to working class,
suggests authenticity of his results.
if Godard had been working class,
he would not have seemingly squandered the opportunities that came so frequent to him.
there is a great struggle amongst middle-class people to justify themselves,
and to authenticate themselves,
as having working class experiences, or values, or struggles.
it is ridiculous,
and it is seen all around.
a result within a middle class idiom is surely as valid
as a result within a working class idiom.
granted,
working classes are seen to have to achieve twice,
to try twice as hard
to reach the level to have the opportunity to achieve.
the end achievement is no less merited.

i started this with such steam,
but i have run out as i want my tea.
i am sure i have more to write on this par-boiled half-thought,
but i am knacked.
i am also well excited for some tea that the missus brough me back from Honk Honk,
no time to write now.

error + corrections

2005-04-10T17:43:00.000Z

i just realised that those photos are loaded in bands.
just go to the site and find the photos entitled
'Barcelona Canyon'
'Barcelona Gothic Quarter'
and
'Ben Vida, Liz Payne, Chris Connelly, Fang, Brent Gutzeit and Tim Kinsella 2003'

i always write Time Kinsella by accident.
amusing.

photos + that city again

2005-04-10T17:10:00.000Z

just been looking at the website for Chris Stong's photography.
he always has that really ethereal feeling to it.
i like these two (1, 2) of Barçelona
because they are the bits that are not shown in the guides,
but are beautiful nonetheless.
for the second one,
it seems he went deep into the Gothic Quarter;
when i went last year
there was a palpable sense of knowing
exactly
where you could be and where you really ought not be.
the bits that you ought not go looked special and sketchy from afar.

there are many other photos on there of good merit,
this one of tim kinsella & friends is just amusing though.

list list list

2005-04-09T10:52:00.000Z

here is a list so far of confirmed performances

2 MANY DJ'S (PIAS/BE)
2020 SOUNDSYSTEM (2020 VISION/GB)
CUT CHEMIST (WARNER/US)
DE LA SOUL (SANCTUARY REC/US)
DJ RUPTURE (AUDITORI)
DJ YODA (ANTIDOTE/GB)
DJ99 / GUTTORM ANDREASEN plays WASABI (NO)
DOSEONE (AUDITORI)
DUPLEX aka EDAN & INSIGHT (LEWIS RECORDINGS/US)
ELLEN ALLIEN (B-PITCH CONTROL/DE)
FERGIE (GB)
GOODIEPAL (SKI-PP/DK)
HOT CHIP (MOSHI MOSHI REC/GB)
JAMES MURPHY (DFA/US)
JAMIE LIDELL (WARP/GB)
JEFF MILLS (AXIS/US)
JOE ENGLISH plays NOISE FACTORY RECORDS (CA)
JORIS VOORN (SINO/NL)
LAURENT GARNIER (FCOMM/FR)
LCD SOUNDSYSTEM (DFA/US)
LE TIGRE (UNIVERSAL/US)
M.I.A. (XL/GB)
MARK ONE + VIRUS SYNDICATE (PLANET MU/GB)
MISS KITTIN (NOBODY'S BIZZNESS/FR)
MOCKY (FOUR MUSIC/CA)
MOUSE ON MARS (SONIG/DE)
MU (OUTPUT RECORDS/JP)
NOAH23 (2nd REC/CA)
PARAL-LEL plays BEE RECORDS (FR)
PELLARIN & MYLLEAGER play STATLER & WALDORF (DK)
PETER GEBERT plays LUX NIGRA (DE)
RADIAN (THRILL JOCKEY/AU)
RICHIE HAWTIN (AUDITORI)
ROISIN MURPHY (ECHO/GB)
SIMON RUSSELL plays ROUGH TRADE SHOPS (GB)
SÓLO LOS SOLO (DEL PALO/ES)
SOULWAX (PIAS/BE)
SOUND-INK (US)
SUBTLE (LEX/US)
BATTLES (US)
THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE (NO)
THE CHEMICAL BROTHERS (VIRGIN/GB)
THE DURUTTI COLUMN (KOOKY DISCS/GB)
THE SOFT PINK TRUTH (ACCIDENTAL/US)
TOWATOM: ATOM TM vs TOWA TEI (JP/DE)

BIG EXCITER

2005-04-09T10:35:00.000Z

i really really want to go to Sónar festival in Barçelona this year;
it looks well madcap and boss,
and having just perused the upated site,
i have discovered,
amongst many other aces,
that BATTLES are playing.
since getting it recently,
i have been slaying the B EP loads.
it is very amazing.
Sónar is 105E,
which is about £73:
you get pure multimedia extravagance
and enjoyable avantisms.
flights from Speke'd be about £120 there and back.
16th - 18th June.
i'm well up for it,
i reckon i could just about save for it by then.
if anyone fancies fucking off to Barça big time mid June -
purely drop the lime now.

super stuff

2005-04-05T17:44:00.000Z

Fiasco/Crumbling Loaf is currently being amazing.
truly fuck a giggle awesome.
if you do not go there now,
you are a fucking bad twat.

Lying In State

2005-04-05T17:16:00.000Z

Didn't half give me the horn, that. Him lying there. He looked so fucking vulnerable, didn't he? I mean, like, I c-, I couldn't prevent myself, you know, having a wank immediately 'cause he looked-, he looked vulnerable, he looked at-, at rest and, er, somebody had, er, gone to the trouble of plucking all that hair out of his nostrils. I didn't fancy him when he was alive 'cause he had all this fucking hair up his nostrils but when they'd, er, when the cosmetician had had a go at his body and that

Static Travellers

2005-04-05T16:55:00.000Z

Kilroy's Week With The G(y)[i]psies,
one of Channel 4's first forays into the brand new genre,
Prejudice TV,
was nothing short of really really poor.
Putting two (sets) of bigoted people in place
expecting sparks to fly is a fantastic idea;
Kilroy,
for all his inappropriate madness,
is too versed in the small-screen to be particularly flustered though.
the pikies essentially came across as confused, dirty scrubbers
who mess the countryside and speak in bad logic.
whereas Kilroy continued to be his clear, mental self.
all it highlighted was that Romany Gypsies want rights,
no-one wants to give them to them
because they reject the responsibilities that come with them,
and
that Kilroy is a fucking vile pig.
For all the Gypsies prejudices,
they can claim to have no formal education outside of tradition
getting by on their internal camp knowledge.
Kilroy, however,
is a highly educated man but still as,
if not moreso,
bigoted than them,
only better enunciated.
afterwards,
we watched SAW
and it is quite clearly the best modern horror film
i have seen in a long long long time.

blood stock

2005-04-03T13:22:00.000Z

apparently,
my uncle is a genius:

“Paul Askew, the chef, is a modest, genial genius destined for the heights of Michelin”
The Times

however,
he does serve pigeon,
so perhaps he is just deranged.

advice.

2005-04-02T13:41:00.000Z

.

don't start a fight with this man,
he's well hard.

titles are for girls.

2005-04-02T00:54:00.000Z

l’er indoors and I
did a view at the Crucible of Lear
a few weeks ago now.
I was intent on writing of it shortly after it concluded
- nay!
before it concluded.
I had only read and heard good things prior to experience
of these things they merely cited arcane
and foolish
criticisms of it
by,
what they assumed to be,
Luddites and reactionaries,
whilst praising it as blindly as God.
shocking.
I found it entirely frustrating and aggravating,
and certainly not in the manner in which is so
deeply
deeply
deeply
wished.

“oh my, oh dear!
that person has died, and that one, and that one!
the cruelty of it all!”

pandering to the poncey
idiotic
naïve
pointless
and entirely despicable affectations of those theatre-goers
who are
theatre-goers who are ‘theatre-goers’
- more to enjoy a diagonal drink in the bar afterwards
discussing how much you really got it,
but oh how it wasn’t a patch on the Sylvain Dhomme production!
horrible.
PANDERING!
no review was incomplete without mentioning its casual violence,
- not that this is a review of any sort -
but its representation of death as a common occurrence in war
really ought not be shocking to anyone.
anyone that is shocked by casual play violence,
when it is all around
in every part of the town city country world,
ought to be shot within a pound of their barse.
I honestly do not understand the reputation
and reverence
that is afforded to it.
its internal drama is tedious in the extreme,
and its external ‘message’ tremendously facile and obvious:
that during wartime there are abuses of humanity,
that personalities are subject to conditions,
that in power people are victims.
rubbish.
any pondering of basic political thought
or casual experience of people,
would come to the same simple conclusion.
however,
I thought the Crucible was superbly set
with the dirt mound spreading across it all,
and the post-industrial barrier used to its optimum.
of that,
I was impressed.
the direction,
on top of the script,
was confused:
I was sure that the actors in the play were unsure
as to what was really required of them
- to play comically against tragedy,
or tragically against comedy;
to ham or not to ham.
they did not know,
and lumbered in the middle.
the true shortcomings of it all
came towards the end of the second Act
when a woman in the audience appeared to collapse
or perhaps have a fit,
and a call of “is there a doctor in the house?”
over-eared the superfluous psuedo-tragical whimperings of those on stage.
more people were drawn to the actual human experience
and immediate unknown drama
of the person,
than should ever be moved by Lear.

eggs milk bacon pepper

2005-04-02T00:15:00.000Z

I am off to attempt an omelette tomorrow
as señor Rafferty impressed me
intensely
with the beautiful and simple nature of them.
amongst other things,
soufflé and perfect meringue two to name,
an omelette has always seemed like a white elephant.
tomorrow,
mind,
I am off to skin that elephant and purely tusk it off.

better smellies make better neighbours

2005-04-01T23:42:00.000Z

it has amused me over many years now,
as my neighbours are ultra-conservative
daily mail readers
who hoped
their children did not turn out like me,
that their daughters
in the throes of puberty
are quickly turning into properly antisocial smellies.
it is awesome.
never one to shirk my civic duty,
I am encouraging the elder bat’s tendencies.
seeing as I am in on my own for a bit,
- what with the missus having gone
fucked off to Hong Kong
because,
I assume simply,
she wants to -
I have decided to make my next-door neighbour a C90.
making the tape,
though,
is really confusing.
I am attempting to assimilate the personality
of a 14-year old female smelly
into my age and odour.
so I figure to mix in lashings of angst
sadness
and songs about girls.

23:42pm
1st April 2005

vive la révolution!

2005-03-26T02:25:00.000Z

one last thing young man

2005-03-25T00:48:00.000Z

according to the electronic mail-drop
from Tigerbeat6 this month,
the Kid606 is laying another new album soon.
this one,
i am lead to believe is more downbeat,
electronicaisms,
akin to his mille plateaux releases.
i have lost
and deleted
my mail on this though
so i cannot recall the date.
needless to say,
it will be worth it.
get slept.

in the absence of information to the contrary

2005-03-24T00:31:00.000Z

in my days away from the innernerd,
having been banned apart at work,
i have scribbled on bits of paper:
thoughts,
phrases,
ideas,
experiences.
right now,
i cannot find the piece(s) of paper
that i was supposed to do electronically on here.
i suppose it does not really matter anyway,
it was all rubbish.
in the absence of valuable thought,
i find that there are two opinions on Jamie Oliver:
1. the Sainsbury's shopping fan of the cheeky chap, and
2. the reactionary, anti-cheeky chap non-fan.
my self has been
firmly
planted in the reactionary camp
for a good long while now,
i can remember toploader from sixth-form,
so i guess that is a while longer than i thought while.
i have always considered him a self-facillitating
Noo British character,
riding a crest of mockney populism and gastrophilia.
having caught the last two episodes of Jamie's School Dinners,
these two camps leaned slightly closer together,
the first, vindicated in their faith of him;
the second grudgingly applaud him,
whilst still pointing out his endless self-promotion
during his campaign to end dietary abuse.
again,
the second is where i stand.
apparently,
Noo Labour are in the first,
the Tories the second.
how horrible it is to be aligned so.
i wonder if 'Jamie' ever
really
thought he would be a focal point for a general election?
it is bizarre.
it is nice though.
Tony Blair has ceded to his populist side on this one,
forming a new committee to 'review'
the current situation
(i assume two years of Oliver's footage is not review enough)
and 'propose' changes.
the Tories have damned this as too representative
and,
doing what the Tories seemed forced into doing
constantly and without break,
kick themselves for not doing it first.
their excuse for lack of foresight,
is to claim that their policies will,
unlike their counterparts,
not be "cobbled together."
no matter,
both review and cobbled together policy
will be instantly forgotten come June,
when we can return to being concerned about
Rivers of Blood,
health tourists,
asylum seekers spreading AIDs,
and Mariah Carey's punctuality problems.
unfortunately,
this forthcoming general election is looking like a whitewash-out.
Howard has not got a leg to swing on,
Tony only has his own party to contend with,
and that ginger one is fighting to be second.
why the Tories are trying to win over Sun-readers
by campaigning to get Gypos out of Berkshire,
Cambridgeshire,
Bucks,
i shall not understand:
last i checked,
Sun* readers were not fans of the horrifically middle class.
nothing perked me up more yesterday
than watching the 'B-Team PM-Qs.'
turns out that this was
an inspired episode of
mental sparring.
Ancram notoriously a de facto mental
- by Tory membership alone -
Prescott famous for sparring.
despite being a London-media caricature of
Nurthern werking class politician
- as well as an essential oaf -
Prescott defeated that pompous flakey twat Ancram
with successive factual jabs
and dodges that belied his physical stature,
to Ancram's obvious attempted right-hook of
'statistics.'
Ancram at one point declared that violent crime had risen,
but included fraud in his definition.
what an incredibly bad tit.
in my working days,
i have come to realise PM Qs
is one of the things i miss the very most.
if and when i return
to the world of leisurely breakfasts,
of books with words,
i shall indulge weekly in this most simple of pleasures.
until then, then.
i was considering getting lashed off,
sitting,
writing stuff,
but it never worked previously
and i have ran out of the steam i did have.
so,
i am going to bin this off now
and perhaps get some sleep
that i would love to think is well-deserved,
but is
probably
best served to stop me being
an absolutely reprehensibly bad-mooded person
again tomorrow.
ta ta,
goodnight
x

* speaking of Sun readers,
who works at Sun.com that visits here infrequently?
say hello.

iyer

2005-03-23T10:42:00.000Z

it has been a while,
and it will probably be a little while longer
as i feel like shit today,
so should not really be in the eye-straining
environs of a monitor.
just felt that this was worthy to report on:

MAKE BELIEVE
SHOCK OF BEING!
August 9, 2005
CD on Flameshovel
LP on Polyvinyl

in the meantime,
i am currently trying to get them to agree
to stop off in Sheffield in July.
i am hopeful of it,
but not really considering it an entire possibility.
apparently,
Weezer are titling their newest compilation of
cynically written and viciously structured songs
Make Believe.
tits.

in other news,
i have now completed my Masters application form
- i think you have to pronounce it Marsters to be accepted onto it -
and so it is just upto them to decide now.
i am unsure if if harping about
enjoying Althusserian-Marxist literary theory
and Beckett
will be enough.
i stocked up on two more Of Montreal albums recently,
only to find they are releasing another one shortly.
prolific bands - they are usually really good as well.
now that you have read this,
go and visit Joe's fantastic full-web existence HERE
it is enough to make you put down your keyboard and admire.

moonwalk across the stand

2005-03-01T15:14:00.000Z

brilliant
brillianter

it is at a time like this that i
really really
wish i had sky.
if anyone wishes to record these episodes
and deliver them to my house,
please do.
i think the first is to be broadcast tonight.
superb.

telethon '05

2005-03-01T10:12:00.000Z

two thoughts and requests:

one/
i get an alright bit of traffic on this here blog,
but i think it would be nice,
just for today,
if everyone who visited stopped and said hi,
introduce yourself and all.

two/
i have received a little money i had not expected
so
naturally
i intend to spend a size of it on records:
recommendations in a comments field please?
i have a few i know i want,
but perhaps i do not want to buy a load of records
i know i will like.

tired old mess

2005-02-28T15:19:00.000Z

in other news
my favourite cat died,
i am really upset about that so i shan't talk on it;
my granny sent me a sizeable cheque
which i am too dumbfounded to understand.
chris and i met xvickyx in manc and did a view of NeedNewBody
although edgeface sacked off
after being confused by the floor bongos and sax of zukanican.
NNB blew my quim backwards and i consumed as much product as i could afford.
i will write about that another time.
travel across the hills
via woodhead pass
in the blizzard
queen on the coach radio.

there's no such thing as a bad trip, it's the bad person, maaan

2005-02-28T13:56:00.000Z

absolutely reprehensible ‘remix’ of gwen stefani’s
contemporary pop classic
currently doing the spins on the radio.
it is the most dire type of remix –
to take the most memorable,
instant,
hooks of a song that everyone has stuck in their heads,
lash it through a flanger whilst putting a four on the floor beat
behind it.
it is now acceptable to take pills too.
cool, ‘n shit.
vaguely on a similar theme,
went to katrina’s birthday party
at bert’s studio off london road.
honestly, i had not wanted to attend,
knowing full well what it’d be like:
full of the yardies from the edge of town,
of the people who spent all their money on drugs
and can’t afford to get into headcharge.
i felt pretty bad for katrina,
as about seventy per cent of people there
were there merely on the off-chance there was a party
or could not afford to get into headcharge.
so the party in her honour was minimal,
i expect she had a good time in the end.
the big fat from hiem did a music as did local garbage, fights.
i do not understand these situations,
so they make me uncomfortable
we left before it got started/people came up really.
joanna said that it was disappointing
that fights were a band that played for her birthday
as she deserved a good band;
true i imagine.
i lost my point and forgot it.
i will sack it off
until later.

it is white and pure

2005-02-23T13:34:00.000Z

i am binning off work
after today until monday.
i cannot express how much i am looking
forward
to it.
need:new:body tonight with faces glad,
and tomorrow i may hot-wheel it
across the north to the wirral
and pat my best cat
before he dies.
it's sad, and i'll really miss him.
the missus has started her new job
so hopefully it shall get me in gear
to finish my application
and leave my job.
oh the lure of academia and books
over the council and care.
also, everyone's scared by the snow - why?

HST:RIP

2005-02-21T13:58:00.000Z

oh,
also:
BANG out of order.
why doesn't kilroy have some decency?

wok in progress

2005-02-21T13:31:00.000Z

excellent new in that hot raff de frodsham
has sprang into virtual life again
and done fine words.

further to my plan to walk home and box stuff,
i did it.
i now have a cardboard of irish plays,
some miscellaneous books,
and a load of garbage cds:
how did i end up with Foxy Brown and Cattle Decapitation in my room?
actually, i swapped sebadoh for cattle decapitation.
worthwhile, that sebadoh album is gash.
this weekend has been one i have wanted for moons:
lazy, sleepy, walky, cookery, viewy.
donated some books to corporate charity
and spent stupids on food with the missus at waitrose.
oh the dichotomy of being an aspirational leftist.
great to be brought back to verité
by arriving in work to be greeted with no thanks
for working my wank off all week
and bruising my muscles internally with lactic acid
from strife.
ian is suffering a crisis at the hands of morons;
i advise you go,
tell him it does not matter as they are moronic scenesterisms.
getting excited for hot-skippy to NeedNewBody
on wednesday night,
may lash friday off work as well as thursday
and force people to take me round art gallerias.
perhaps the hyperlink is so easy in blogspot
as to encourage pointless linking,
it is a nice option though.

further to last monday's post,
episode two Nathan Barley was
so
so
so
so
so
much better than the first one
that i felt guilty.

play the piano like percussion

2005-02-18T16:36:00.000Z

chris brought this label
and its manifesto to my attention.
definitely an admirable statement.
check it.

it goes in here, and out there and does that

2005-02-17T16:27:00.000Z

of dna ecneloiv,
the taller steve of stop that astronaut
(who recommends chai - although i am yet to believe it)
has offered us a performance slot
with !Forward, Russia!
and
someone else (TBC) in march.
i have gotten over my reservations of dna,
as it seems that the other three
do not want to repeat what we did last time.
so i would be up for it now.
the only sticking point,
and it is not my point,
is i have to get over being a terrible cunt.
i cannot see that happening,
so it is a shame
that we can never buzz upon meffs again.

this is what makes me fat - BIG FUCKING SHIT!

2005-02-17T11:56:00.000Z

this morning
i bumped into kev
as i got off the bus going to work.
he was walking to Ant to earn.
he questioned my bussing,
i only had the answer that i got up late and it’s what i do anyway.
i am going to attempt to walk to work,
or at least home from.
it pointed out the stupidity of reading things
and not doing them.
especially as when I was on the bus,
i was reading about Fugazi cutting out
the unnecessary things
in life.
the same thing that Minutemen were saying in an earlier chapter;
i guess that’s why these people are easy to admire
because
they have the resilience and pseudo-Calvinist tendencies
to get rid of stuff.
every time I listen to Minutemen
i want to ‘jam econo’ on my life,
so I stare around my room and look for stuff to get rid of
but for some reason,
despite my room being swallowed indiscriminately by pointless rubbish,
the best I have managed is to sell a book.
i shall walk home from work today,
then I shall take a big box to my room and put rubbish in it.
it is nice to know people that you can admire.
this is it for the time-being.
aside from,
getting excited for the twin arrivals of the klezmer cd
and Raspberry Reich.

no border controls

2005-02-16T17:10:00.000Z

have quickly become obsessed with sitemeter
and readership.
this person acted as a porthole to my person.
i also seem to have had a fair amount of spanish and french
speaking visitors today.
how queer.
it will be a while until i understand how these things come to be.
i am off off home(II) to look after a sickly bird.

hava nagilah, hava nagilah

2005-02-16T15:07:00.000Z

if anyone reads this
and knows an answer:
where is a good place to start for klezmer music?
last night i was listening to Zorn's Filmworks XIV
and a small smattering of some Masada as well.
there's something about this jewish music that seems so attractive,
perhaps because it is riddled with sadness and particularly well arranged.
some of the stuff on XIV was like american folk-music
mixed with the klezmer influence
and arragements.

i call to the stand... coco the fucking clown

2005-02-16T10:12:00.000Z

the MJ witnesses are (so far)

for the prosecution :
two of Jackson's children
Debbie Rowe
Jordan thingy's family

for the defence:
Elizabeth Taylor
Uri Geller
David Blaine
Deepak Chopra
Kobe Bryant
Macaulay Culkin
Stevie Wonder
Diana Ross
the family of Marlon Brando
Martin Bashir.

as soon as the case came,
i said to heather that i wished macauley culkin was a guest witness
but for the prosecution.
dammit.
this is going to be immense,
if he stops getting 'flu-like symptoms'

dirty wogs

2005-02-15T16:19:00.000Z

good christ,
this is my sixth post today.
now, this stems from my inability to concentrate on rubbish things
and my boss being off.
so i have swallowed the entire desk space of four people,
wasted the day,
got a mad-stress because i had not done vital things,
and now back here to post again.

it is only fitting that it is about racism and politicians again;
Michael 'our kid' Howard has now stated that
crucially
we should screen and test all 'immigrants'
for diseases and filth.
now, the implication is obvious,
his intention is to tie the cutting of dirty immigrants
to the cutting of burden on the NHS
to the cutting of taxes.
less blacks = less tax.
what a nonce.
has he not thought that our own country's export to Ayia Napia,
Ibiza,
Tenerife (the 'e' is pronounced for booze holidays),
Corfu,
or wherever else slags and cunt-hounds go
to take drugs, drink excessively and knob each other,
that perhaps we spread as many diseases as we do legs?
we should test all our outgoing members in order to not live in a glass house.
right-wing upper middle class bigots are a worse disease than chylamidia in my estimation.

date with doom

2005-02-15T13:59:00.001Z

Tuesday 15th March 2005

Boris

w/Like a Kind of Matador + Birds of Delay

Brudenell Social Club,
Leeds.

Boris are immense,
and i want to see how odd birds of delay are:
what a superb concoction.

also, read this review on buddyhead

"Wolf Eyes
Burned Mind
[Sub Pop]
Beep, beep, static, scream, beep beep, barking, static, feedback, blump, bleep. This sucks.
--Travis Keller"

true that.

a bit of flexi and a lamb shank

2005-02-15T12:57:00.000Z

while we're on the subject...
it's funny how everything finds you when you're thinking about it.
this was linked to from Punktastic,
which, although despicable,
does have good points like some kid sending me Seadrum by Boredoms.

"He said he believed Etchells died while enjoying some sort of sexual gratification."

colour blind, or the coloureds and the blind.

2005-02-15T12:41:00.000Z

in similar styled news stories
good honest bloke
david blunkett is doing the rounds and taking on
bad dishonest bloke
nick griffin
in keighley.
ian and i drove throught it last summer,
it looked pleasant.
best not to be covered in bigots and fighting.

"People in Keighley like him. He's straight."

red ken vs blue pen(s)

2005-02-15T12:35:00.000Z

it can be difficult
when people you think are massive idiots
agree with you.
on

channel changer

2005-02-15T11:53:00.000Z

in a brief period of quietness amongst the hectic today
i spent time to read a lot of DJ//Rupture's blog.
the man is knowledgable of things that are interesting.
pyay geg in on it,
the link is easily clickable on the right there.

2005-02-14T14:05:00.000Z

yes
i can see that i can change my font size.
what a four-eyed cunt to miss that anyway.

something to literally be stoked by

2005-02-14T13:39:00.000Z

Need New Body
(Kill Rock Stars/ 5RC/ Pickled Egg/File 13)
Support from:
Zukanican
Land Ahoy!
Wed 23rd Feb @ Star and Garter, Manchester- £5 Advance / £6 on the door
Doors 8pm

i reckon the riley and i will do a jaunt.
super.

Checkout Friends/Placating the Mental

2005-02-14T13:27:00.000Z

it is always a strange,
but not entirely horrible thing,
when someone just starts talking to you in a checkout or queue.
today, a retired man started telling me about his fiscal situation,
entirely unintelligibly.
a lot of winking and nose-tapping and references to not advising others on financial choices.
did not understand a lot of it,
but it was pleasant that not everyone is stuck up their own arsehole;
even if they are a walking mad.
the funny thing about checkout friends
is that they tell you absolutely anything they can
up until they give their items to the cashier.
then they pay, pack and leave.
they never say goodbye.
funny.
nod, nod, smile, frown, nod.

The Weekend on Monday

2005-02-14T11:53:00.000Z

in an attempt to stem the bilious flowings of this
fresh
blog ruining it all over the shop,
i shall write something else.
in fact, i shall write on something i rarely write about:
Television.
i have spent a(n in)decent amount of time attaching meine zwei Augen
onto the box;
usually i only do this of a wednesday night when Wife:Swap is on,
and whenever i can view The Simpsons.
so telly then.
friday:
the simpsons at six, nine and half nine.
the six o'clock episode was one of those wonderful simpsons
which barrage you endlessly with references to films, other programmes, itself
and,
most of all,
laughter.
the simpsons making you sit up and stop taking it for granted is always one of the best things.
i took the two later episodes for granted.
something i never shall with Nathan Barley.
really rather pointless, wasn't it?
Chris Morris has, to my eyes, has always aimed at the more important targets
the presentations of ‘fact,’
media-frenzy,
celebrity self-promotion,
self-righteousness.
with Barley though,
the targets are far too easy,
it is as satirical as ChavScum.com,
which is to say, not very satirical at all.
anything Nathan Barley said could be said in one sentence:
“all those preposterously self-satisfied media types are, you know, pricks.”
for all of Morris’ affected superior attitude,
i felt that this was the first time he has no right to sneer.
stiffy says: an ironic satire of ironic comedy?
True.
Nathan Barley is going to appeal to the exact people that it satirises
“It’s like funny because it’s like offensive, but not offensive, but like dumb?”
the prescient irony of it is that Morris
has himself
helped create these people
with amusing neologisms all over the place, bodged together insults like
pisstrollop or cocknudger:
who exactly is he taking the piss out of?
at the end of it,
the only thing that can be given is the people he is taking it out of only matter to those people,
so Morris (and Brooker) are committing that guiltiest of all Modern Art sins –
preaching only to themselves, with little point and little interest.
Newsnight Review, however, was pleasant.
Yes, the people on it are annoying
- apart from the intensely watchable Mark Kermode -
But usually covering at least something interesting.
This week Rufus Wainwright
the passing of Arthur Miller,
a tripartite Impressionist exhibition of Whistler, Monet and Turner,
and Kevin Spacey doing theatre.
Rufus Wainwright made me turn over to channel 4,
for the brief time that it took Kelly Osbourne’s mouth to overshadow her fatty milkers,
but the rest is good.
the three panels were at a loss as to why Arthur Miller was rejected in his later years by America(ns),
the general confusion was: “but he spoke with such honesty about America, and politics, and expressed his dissatisfaction and unhappiness with its inherent injustices – why oh why would they not like him?”
the simple answer is, as written in a post two back,
no-one likes people to stand up and tell them a truth, let alone a truth that they know but really don’t like to be reminded of.
saturday
Michael Howard: No More Mr. Nasty
superb.
if the Tory party needed any more proof that they were manimatronics,
a mobilised troop of rotted corpses,
then this was it.
close Aides and friends of Michael Howard hoisting him by his attempts at image,
pointing out he is a mean sod
and his attempt to do the classic Beano impression of a politician
- rosettes and kissing babies -
is nothing more than a façade and cynical.
which everyone already knows, it’s just amusing that those who know him say it.
Bob Monkhouse (god wipe his soul) said that if you can fake sincerity, you’ve got it made.
Howard absolutely cannot even allude to sincerity;
his smile is a ghastly confusion of sneer and defence.
Favourite points:
1/ showing him footage of DeadRingers wherein they sum up his ideology as ‘Less Tax, Less Blacks,’
Reaction: “oh that’s deeply offensive” (but not untrue, Michael?)
2/ showing the classic footage of ann widdecome declaring he has ‘something of the night’ about him.
Reaction: “well… I mean, I don’t even understand what that means?”
cut to Ann Widdecome clarifying it, and declaring that it happened over a decade ago and some of us live in the twenty-first century.
3/ Our Mick saying how proud he is to be from a hard background
“I am from wales, I went to grammar school, I support LFC.”
still, ditched his accent and is the least convincing football fan ever “oh, gosh, what a goal.” (full stop, not exclamation.)
I enjoyed his wife’s placating of him, a very there there my dear, you’ll be PM one day.
4/ the constant reference to Howard being really old, and a late political developer (the last three Tory leaders have all been substantially younger than he)
so, the Tory party:
old, deeply offensive, out of date, run by a man who has something of the night of him, unconvincing.
fantastic programming.
after that, we watched some of BBC4’s Jazz Brittania programming,
some nice discussions of Charlie Parker, Miles and Fela Kuti.
Soweto Kinch seems like a massive tit though.
footage of Courtney Pine (is he a popular jazzist then?) –
seems to be anti-jazz in his completely populist approach
a bit of rock, a bit of funk, a bit of bop, a bit of dub riddims,
a bit pointless?
too much hotch potch.
i’m tired out.
after all that, I just read Joe Tucker’s latest blog (little dog’s day on your right there) and he’s done a betterer run-down on the howard programme.
the fucking great bastard.

oh well.

2005-02-12T15:39:00.000Z

sometimes it is best to hold fire.
sometimes you have to apologise for not.

all you pussies can suck our cocks

2005-02-10T15:09:00.000Z

today,
as was yesterday,
is very agitated and nervous.
it's a nervous energy that flits between absolute violence
and
utter utter nothingness.
it is unpleasant,
but not so unpleasant as little pathetic Pharisees
with so little control of their own lives that they
attempt,
only attempt,
to express some level of power over others.
directly or vicariously,
it is pathetic.
nee cunt has any position to try to manipulate my life,
my attitude,
my opinions
and anything else to do with me.
i am essentially a happy person with a negative ideology.
some people are so fantastic as to make me question and reconsider my ideology,
my girlfriend dragged me out of the longest running rut of my life;
i can also point to ian, chris, joanna, gemma (all for different reasons)
- and very few others -
as points of reference for this point.
the majority of people merely serve to reaffirm my ideology,
and to remind me of a time i loathed.
for these people, they can all fuck off.
i have no time for people who serve to reaffirm my beliefs,
whereas some people search for others who will do exactly that,
for the very reason that they cannot trust their own selves.
for that reason as well, they can all fuck off.

"i want to swim with children
i want hair like water."

as concluded on Tuesday night with Chris,
this is probably my favourite thing.

a write to complain

2005-02-08T13:27:00.000Z

TO: Galaxy FM
FROM: Me (pseudonym used)

Dear Sir/ Madam,
having become an avid listener of your daytime programming for the last two and a half months, it saddens me to write to you under these circumstances. Having listened daily to your station it has come to my attention that your DJ performers have become quite taken with the repeated airing of a track, which I am informed is called a ‘bootleg,’ combining Kelis’ My Milkshake and Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean.

I cannot be, and god help us if I am, the only person to realise the absolute moral indignity of this, not to mention its sheer tastelessness. May I bring to your attention the repeated allegation levelled at the musician Michael Jackson pertaining to acts of (sexual) abuse towards children, which have cumulated in the recent case of The People Vs. Michael Jackson, which has been formally adjourned for a week.

I am not one for hysterical over-reactions, but do feel, however, that Kelis’ refrain of “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard” whilst Michael Jackson’s dubious yelped syllables of “ooh” and “aah” create an incredibly uncomfortable juxtaposition. To elaborate, in case you had queries, it is clearly and freely suggestive of the image of the (alleged) child abuser Michael Jackson, enticing young boys into the schoolyard with promises of milkshake, a practise which is a classic idiom for paedophiles to curry favour with impressionable children.

I should be pleased if you would refrain from airing this recording again, and feel that that an official on-air apology, replete with reasons why such an offensive track could have been played for so long, would not be an unreasonable request.

In closing, I am appalled and disgusted at the lack of screening that occurs in your programming to allow this through, especially given its pertinent timing and level of insensitivity. I can only reiterate my desire for the above actions be taken, else I shall be forced to bring the matter to the attention of the Radio Standards Commission. I also assume that Kelis’ management are not aware that her music is being pirated to promote abuser-centric songs?

I await your response with great anticipation,
Yours faithfully,

Richard Spencer

in other news,
i have fixed it so anonymity can be used,
but i much prefer it that people use names.
thanks, today.

violence and backwards spells a ba(n)d name

2005-02-07T15:15:00.001Z

guitar says drums wants to have a dna meeting soon.
I myself have reservations regarding it.
I fear that it may now be something it never should have been
now that we successfully went down as badly as largely intended,
despite slightly wounded egos
that no-one particularly engaged with it,
the question is what to do with it.
the fear is that now we have succeeded in failing
we somehow
for some reason
have something to prove,
which we cannot actually prove by pulling out the carcass
of the dead dog that was severely flogged before we got to it.
it would be nice to continue the band,
but having been already labelled
“petencious (sic) art cunts”
we have nothing but an uphill battle,
especially if we do the same schtick as last time.

I think,
as I have proposed to guitar,
that a name change
to Morality DNA Architecture
would point out that we are stupidly amusing,
but concerned with big things, albeit in a largely instrumental band.
that sounds post-rock.

madness runs [in] my subconscious

2005-02-07T13:26:00.000Z

just realised how important madness have been in my life.
went to the co-op at lunch to purchase dinner necessaries
and,
somewhat incongruously,
they had Grey Day on the in-store radio.
as a child growing up,
i felt the palpable sense of dread for waking up,
tired and ill
to go off to work.
not that i understood it at the time,
the song is simply that well written and arranged that a seven year old can 'get it.'
after that short realisation, i also considered that Cardiac Arrest is
at least part
responsible for my current day avoidance of responsibility and hardship.
fantastic band.

le week-end

2005-02-07T10:12:00.000Z

my right eye has been twitching since thursday;
i am trying to work out if it is because i am overtired
or if my mind is bored to the extent that it creates things to do.
obviously, i am leaning to the former explanation.
had a largely pleasant weekend,
mostly inactive but with added doing things to spice it up.
finally watched the second half of Paris, Texas
after starting it a year ago.
to say i had not expected it to really go that way
would be opening myself up to quite plausible accusations of naive.
harry dean stanton is easily one of the most watchable actors i know of,
and possesses one of the most finely worn faces as well.
one of my housemates is doing his masters dissertation on robert mitchum,
who he believes possesses said quality as well.
perhaps he does.
my over-reaching lifestyle and ill-mannered financial non-preparation
are finally catching up with me.
for the next several months i have to live like a particularly frugal monk,
excluding the finer things in life,
such as
needless buying of shit albums,
expensive sandwiches
and
others things that i forget that i waste all my money on.
not pleasant.
it is still early and my head's banging.

On brecht as a contemporary; or, nah nah nah you're wrong, you big deutsch.

2005-02-03T15:22:00.000Z

last night i considered bertold brecht for the first time
in a long time.
it occurs to me that his edict is half right and half wrong:
positioning his, then, new
epic theatre
against
realist theatre
- which itself had originally been ground-breaking and avant garde,
now only a set of conventions itself -
he divided theatre into two camps:
emotional
and
observational.
the modernist notion of the alienation effect
he pioneered was in order to break façade of theatre,
to highlight the mechanics of the societal workings.
brecht believed that the emotional theatre of realism,
by seeking to represent 'real-life'
traps people into a system of belief:
this is the way it is, it's even on stage.
as such, realism keeps people wrapped up
in the story line,
in the emotion,
in the characters,
portrayed and treated as real.
the alienation effect, as already noted, is then to break this illusion
to inform of what is to happen so there is no intrigue,
only mechanics.
understanding mechanics = knowledge to be revolutionary.

sorry for waffling needlessly on brechtian notions,
the point being herein that:
yes,
getting caught up in the emotional storyline DOES negate opportunity;
the mass media at current dramatises every event,
to include lacking intrigue, cliff-hangers, romances, subplots and betrayal.
people are guilty of not considering the events,
but merely the storyline of the events.

However,
no,
the alienation effect does not work either.
brecht's inherent positivity regarding the potential of people
is vastly undermined by people's actual inherent laziness.
in this multi-media age of images,
communication,
post-modern nods,
references,
knowledge,
we know the mechanics of the system,
we know what is going to happen in treaties, at meetings, in speeches, in reshuffles,
yet, absolutely and resolutely,
there really is no prospect of serious change.

i only wrote this because it is bugging me;
it's not pleasant when a humourless german man gets stuck in your head
to the extent that you have to rant about him being wrong
to get on with it.

anyway,
new notebook.
hi.