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Club Dickon: Some Readers' Lives
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| Monday, September 8th, 2008 |
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I've just had a week off* I was coming off my first set of night shifts in some time, I've been burning my annual leave allowance to avoid doing them and it's been a right trauma trying to reset my body-clock back to day shifts. Winter is approaching, and with it my Seasonal Affective Disorder. During this week off I've been unable to be motivated about anything - I've been sleeping between nine and eleven hours a day and I've been alternating between not eating and binge eating. There are other symptoms, but you don't want to read me moaning. So I've dusted down my SAD light and checked that the bulb still works - time to start blasting myself in the face with it. I hate this time of year. The problem is that you have to be careful not to let it affect your work - it's incredibly easy to start snapping at people, and that way leads to written complaints and warnings from those above me in the LAS pecking order. It's been said that over half the complaints against our service are due to 'attitude', so as the nights draw in I try and be a bit more mindful of what I say and do and of the way I present myself. Of course it doesn't always work; take the drunk who was asleep in the street. We were getting run ragged and this was the third person of the night who'd decided that going home wasn't for him, instead he'd just kip down in the middle of the pavement. Be aware that it's only around seven in the evening. So we parked next to him and I deployed the 'diagnostic boot'**. Essentially it's not a good idea to kneel down next to someone who is drunk, you never know if they are going to take a swing at you. If the person doesn't wake up to me shouting at them, I gently kick the sole of their shoe with my boot, not with the purpose of hurting them, but just to shake them awake. Sure enough he woke up and I introduced myself and asked if he was alright. 'Fuck off!' I informed him that he couldn't sleep on the pavement, someone might trip over him. 'Fuck off!' I let him know that if he kept sleeping here we, or our colleagues, would keep being called to him as a 'unconscious male, caller refusing to approach'. 'Fuck off!' I asked him if he would like to go to hospital, it was less than 200 yards away. 'Fuck off!', he then spat a gobbet of drool at me. 'No', I replied through gritted teeth, 'You don't get to tell me to "fuck off" four times and then spit at me. If you don't 'fuck off' yourself I'll get the police down here to have you nicked. And they are a lot less pleasant than me - but I would guess you know that already'. At this he got up and wandered home. I am, after all, only human and I don't get paid to have drunks swearing and spitting at me. The trick, is to not lose my temper when it's a cold and dark February evening and turn the 'diagnostic boot' into the 'your head is a football, you annoying twerp boot'. Fingers crossed. *I'm typing this while manning ORG's stall at the Green Party conference. I really like being able to write things in advance - comes in handy for the twelve hour stretches. ** Before I start getting emails of complaint, I was told to do this at our 'self defence' course. I didn't have the heart to tell the course leader that we'd all been doing this for years. |
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| Sunday, September 7th, 2008 |
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| Monday, September 8th, 2008 |
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Is there absolutely any way to get a visa to extend your stay when you are already in the UK? I'm having really horrible family problems and am very tempted just not to go back. I have a Scottish fiance and I was planning to move here anyway in about a year. How long do fiance visas take? Could I go to another country close, like France, and apply for it, or would I have to go back to the States and apply there? I've been here 3 months already, so I could stay for another 3, but then what could I do? My nerves are really frazzled. If there's ANY way, please, please let me know. I think I remember reading that you can't change a visitor's visa, but I don't know. |
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| Sunday, September 7th, 2008 |
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grav·i·tas \ˈgra-və-ˌtäs, -ˌtas\ noun 1: high seriousness (as in a person's bearing or in the treatment of a subject) |
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| Monday, September 8th, 2008 |
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What if you could go back to being a teenager? What would you do differently? Ask the girl out? Beat the bullies? Try to reach out to the moody outsider kid? We’d all love to think we’d be able to do all of the things we were just too scared and young to do, but in Too Cool To Be Forgotten, the latest graphic novel by Alex Robinson, Andy Wicks actually gets to relive those troublesome, awkward teenage years again after he’s transported back to high school following hypnosis to finally quit smoking. On the verge of turning 40, with a loving wife and two daughters, Andy Wicks has tried everything he can think of to quit the cigs. But no matter how much he wants to do it, no matter how much he really wants to be around in another 20 years to see his girls grow up, he just can’t break his addiction. Eventually, desperate, he gives in to his wife’s suggestion of hypnosis. But instead of waking up in the hypnotist’s chair, he wakes up in the library of his high school, a teenager once more. “Woozy with deja vu”, he staggers through teenage life, convinced that any moment he’ll wake up in the chair, back to his 40 year old self. But before then he gets the chances we’ve all fantasised about.
(40 year old Andy sees the face of his teenage self for the first time. Art by Alex Robinson from Too Cool To Be Forgotten. Published Top Shelf) Alex Robinson’s previous books, Box Office Poison and Tricked showed us he was very good at handling a large group of characters and able to plot intricate, interlocking stories of everyday life with some style. Here, he’s primarily focussing on his central protagonist but the method is the same; as he captures the motivations, desires and emotions of teen life as perfectly here as he captures a mixes group in his other stories. His artwork may be light caricature, but Robinson uses this to convey a wide and expressive range of emotions. He’s also not afraid to manipulate the page layout in the service of the story. The majority of the pages are standard grids, but there are times when the art style shifts to play to the story, opening up a page or playing with the reader’s perceptions. It could have been distracting or annoyingly clever, but Robinson handles it very well and every trick manages to work well. The first two thirds of the book are plain fun, following an all too familiar path of everything from Dickens to Disney movies as Andy goes about trying to get used to this situation but also trying his best to do it just a little bit differently. But after the initial fun stuff, Robinson starts to delve a little deeper into Andy’s life and that’s where it all gets really good. It’s all triggered by the moment Andy decides to say no to that first cigarette. Convinced he’ll snap back into his normal life he goes to sleep that night looking forward to seeing the family that he’s only just realised he’s missing desperately.
But he doesn’t go back. Suddenly the possibility that he’s stuck here hits home and he realises how wonderful his life was and how much he loves all those he’s lost. After the lightness and comedy value of the book so far this descent into very difficult emotional ground could have been troublesome, but Robinson handles it masterfully. Two scenes dominate the rest of the book, both totally heartbreaking. First a desperate teenage Andy phones Lynn, his future wife. Understandably she has no idea who he is, and Andy’s heartbreak at what he may have lost should bring tears to your eyes. And after that, he suddenly remembers why this year is so important in his life. And suddenly all of the little clues that Alex Robinson has sprinkled throughout the book come crashing to the fore as you watch Andy go through heartbreak and terrible loss all over again. Except this tiem Andy’s able to deal with it, able to say all of those things he’s held in for so long and able to do the one thing he hadn’t done at the time; to say his goodbyes. By this point there may be a tear or two in your eyes. So Alex Robinson goes from strength to strength. We already knew that his ability to write funny and involving slice of life fiction was sound, but Too Cool adds an extra layer of sweet, poignant and desperately heartbreaking emotion to his work. And Too Cool To Be Forgotten is shaping up to be one of the books of the year. |
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| Sunday, September 7th, 2008 |
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Again I slept in way past noon. This is like being a student again! Hopefully the tiredness will lift. I have a lot of things to be getting on with - all of them in the very early stages which makes it harder. Still today was going to be about leisure, at least until my late night gig and I went out for a lovely Sunday lunch. It was really top quality, there were plenty of other customers and nothing amusing happened at all. It wouldn't be much fun if all eating out experiences were like last night. |
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Amongst my current open tabs are some news items I’ve reacted strongly to and have kept open with the intention to write about them. Two that pushed my buttons are about sport and its appurtenances: From the end of the Olympics — Britain’s “tacky” handover show. Not polished or glitzy enough. Not expensive enough, basically. China’s Titan Sports Daily chided: “Unlike the Chinese custom, which tends not to reveal their weakness to the outsiders, the British seem to like to laugh about their stupidity in a funny way.” I don’t know whether the Brits laughed so much about themselves in the days when Britannia pwned, but one can only wish their latterday, grownup sense of humour on China. Lao Tzu would have understood. From the alternative reality known as the Australian Olympic Committee — “Let’s beat Britain” at the London games. Australia would aim to finish in the top five in the medal tally, as a country of 20 million people should. Let the taxpayers bring tribute, yea, of silver and gold. No bronze, thanks; this is a serious pissing contest. My buttons are pushed not because I think too much money is spent on elite sport — although I do think that — but because intense competitiveness worries me. It worries me because it goes beyond the sporting field. It chokes intentions to act for communal benefit before those intentions even begin to become efforts. Competition in itself is not a bad thing at all; it inspires innovation and encourages the hard work without which excellence is rarely achieved. But as a race we seem prone to let our competitive nature get wildly out of hand. The desire to reign supreme, to beat the other guy until he’s bleeding on the ropes, to win — or steal — everything and leave others with nothing, to build wealth for oneself no matter the cost in pollution or poverty for others — it all comes from the same poisonous root. And that root is, I think, fear. In the case of the wealthy and the up-and-coming, a particular register of fear — fear not of being the worst or the smallest, but of not being the best and the greatest. Fear of being laughed at or taken lightly, of losing face. Opening the Tao te Ching at a random page: “When they have no false self to nourish or defend, they find that greed, hatred, and arrogance vanish by themselves.” Trying the same thing with The Golden Asse, it opens at the very page where Apuleius, thinking to be turned into a bird, is turned into a donkey instead. “But you were always a donkey,” said Pooh. I am a donkey. |
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What's the difference between the BNP and the National Front? I know what the two are, but they seem quite similar to me, and I feel like an idiot for not knowing this. Edit: I'm good now...assumptions confirmed. Don't hate me. ;) |
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| Monday, September 8th, 2008 |
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Late last night "Her Jazz" suddenly was in the room again and I got a bit over-excited, I know all the words you know, it's classic pause-point-shout stuff all the way through... this was the sound of our revolution |
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Friday night: go for walk, get kebab, get rained on, watch Big Brother final. Underwhelmed. Saturday night: go out to Wagamama's for Oli's birthday with some chums. Wagamamas is very nice (although it probably helps that I hadn't been to a noodle bar for ooh, ages), and I had some plum wine which was really nice. Then we decamped to the Grad Pad and played lots of cheap pool and drank lots of cheap drink. Subsidised bars FTW, obviously. Sunday: Spent pretty much all day playing Super Mario RPG on Wii Virtual Console which I had been playing on and off over the last week. Actually I spent eight hours doing it today in fact so it's a good job I've just finished it. Now I can move on to Strong Bad's Cool Game For Attractive People, awesome. And listen to this week's Fighting Talk. I did plan to write about how useless I am at not spending money but I couldn't be bothered in the end. |
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| Sunday, September 7th, 2008 |
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It was okay. There were moments of genius, but what was missing was the general happy friendly 'join in' kind of stuff, all there was to do was buy food, drink beer, trudge through mud and try to get the energy to watch bands - last year it felt much more...like a children's birthday party - this year it just felt like one of the big corporate festivals, but with fancy dress. I didn't wear any of my costumes. Late of the Pier were cancelled or moved, Black Kids were cancelled and if I'd watched Neon Neon (even if their stage had been up and running) tonight I would have died. But seriously - without inside places to sit down and get warm and be entertained (so so spoiled for that at Latitude) it was hideous hideous slog. It's just last year there was sitting in the afternoon sun watching Emmy the Great shyly ask for a plectrum and playing a song that made my heart break a little and Seasick Steve pick the hell out of his guitar over my head and dancing with a monkey during Primal Scream and doing forward rolls to The Go! Team...and this year....well - Friday was awesome once the main stage got going - accidentally kicked off by a Dave Gedge who wasn't going to let his jangly guitar hand stop playing for a second and then followed by DJ Barry Peters and Double Penetration who led the crowd in singing Since You've Been Gone and dancing to Club Tropicana in torrential rain. And the day ended with a few hours in a tent listening to Santogold and Ladyhawke and then crazy dancing in the Rizla stage and doing the twist with lovely girls in the Spiegeltent... I'm too old to suffer like that though...why do British festivals live in constant denial of the fact that it's going to probably get rainy and disgusting? Lowlands has concrete raised roads in its campsites and through the festival site, it has enough showers and indoor toilets for everyone, all of its stages are in tents (not its best feature, but sometimes it was a welcome relief) - Latitude has more than enough loos, lots of things to do in the dry if you grow tired of standing around waiting for bands...and even Glastonbury has its sensible refuges - and enough going on everywhere that will potentially blow your mind. The second last year I last went I was coming down with a cold and had wrecked my back so that every time I moved I was in agony and I still made it through to Muse and was rewarded by them playing the set of a lifetime. Call me cynical but as Bestival is at the end of the season I was watching some acts and thinking 'Yeah, I saw them do this already'. The programmes were possible the worst design I have ever experienced, and..look - the only reason it was painful and rubbish this year was that it was so gloriously friendly and silly last year, the best festival I have ever been to in modern times (we don't talk about dear, departed Phoenix). Oh. And one last thing. Quickdraw tents. NEVER BUY ONE. They are not waterproof. Boooooo. I've never had to wear wellies at a festival before, and I've been to two of the worse Glastonburys. Thank gawd I bought some though. Oh, and space blankets. Sorry this is a bit of a random rant...it wasn't horrible, I saw the Human League play Dare in its entirety (I have to admit that hearing I Am The Law made me cry a little bit). I'd put too much stock in Bestival giving me a chance to let my hair down, go crazy, have fun and be one of the beautiful people so I guess it was bound to disappoint a little. But it was nice to be there, all told. I realised some nice stuff. And now - the summer's over - Ron and I noticed that the trees on Highbury Corner had already turned yellow and gold. Back to real life, back to getting on with whatever it is that I do. Am supposed to do... |
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andy has gone to lebanon for work for 4 weeks, i don't think we've ever been apart that long... will have to see how i 'cope'. he's such a light force in my life ... hope it won't get too dark. here another art piece, i really like this one too. there is something about the perfectly round faces that really does it for me. i wuv the baboo.  a print of this piece is for sale here (if you want the original, talk to me here; tam[at]willowing[dot]org btw, all the people who enquired about the 'you shine' piece, clicky on the image and you can buy it there;  www.willowing.org |
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Richard Dawkins could knock creationism on the head once and for all by devoting a whole programme to repeating this clip of the goblin shark's terrifying extensible jaws unfolding in all their foul glory. At about the 0:25 mark, this clip makes a convincing case that if there was an intelligent designer behind this thing, it was Satan. At 0:35 you will feel your soul wither and die. |
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We were travelling second class on the way back as third class sold out, despite us preliminarily reserving our tickets months before. I cursed this at the time as it meant having to find another couple of hundred pounds the week before L lost her job, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise now that she was so ill. The main appreciable difference - apart from the improved state of the toilets - was that second class cabins held 4 people instead of 54; and also there was a carpet, which the providnitsa would come and sweep with twigs every now and then. Our constant companion for the next 55 hours was a guy who, judging from his tattoos, was an ex-prisoner (this was later confirmed). He had a row of gold teeth and was very smelly; we tried opening the window but he didn't like it. Still, the whole set up was far preferable than from whence we had come, even when he tried to cop a feel of my leg when I turned the cabin light off that night. We had a rotating fourth cabin-mate: the first spoke a little English, a young guy with very shifty eyes and a limp handshake but pleasant enough. He disappeared in the night to be replaced by a young princessy girl deposited very loudly by her father at 4am in our cabin, which interrupted the first of my nocturnal visions of the eclipse, which for the next few days I dreamt of again and again and again (the mainline into my subconscious it taps into freaked L out, as several times I answered a question out loud that she was only thinking.) The next occupant was a soldier fresh from military academy working in strategic missiles, a sweet guy who showed us pictures of his graduation and friends getting drunk ('This is my girlfriend. This is cheese'), then blubbed a bit because he wasn't going to see his bird until the New Year. Mindful of our forthcoming trip to Georgia, I asked him what he thought of the whole situation (which at that point had yet to kick off) - a typically patriotic 'I hate them because they hate Russia and like America!' Oh well. After queries about the Baltic countries yielded similar responses which we tried to balance out a bit, we decided to steer clear of politics and play with his hat instead.  The trip was on the whole uneventful apart from the providnitsa taking an odd interest in us, whispering to Nikolai the soldier to find out how old we were etc - we rewarded her curiosity when we left by bequeathing her our English-Russian dictionary, much to her bemusement. The train had been travelling for a whole seven days from Vladivostok, but arrived in Moscow bang on the minute. We had another two days in Moscow, but we spent most of this time recovering in the cosy hostel - fortunately there were some medical students also staying there who gave some reassuring advice about L's worsening symptoms, which obviously hadn't been helped by her not being able to eat for a week. This coupled with the next occupant of our room's willingness to let her stay in bed and sleep until we had to leave for our flight were acts of kindness which meant a lot and ensured we left on a positive note, despite everything. So, another relaxing 'holiday' drew to an end. I was surprised by the changes I had noticed since my last visit to Russia only 6 years previously: more people speaking English, random people being helpful and reacting in a more positive way to us as Westerners overall, and less visible signs of poverty in the city (with emphasis on the visible). It's one of those places that while you're there sometimes, everything is such hard work - mainly in terms of needless bureacracy, still - that you're wondering why you made that choice, especially when you can get a comfortable holiday in a Western European country for the same cost. But as with all these trips, the value is in terms of going some way to understanding places that are changing so quickly, and questioning the norms of your own culture. Already many of the places in Eastern Europe we have visited in the recent past are apparently becoming homogenous Western-style capitalist anywheres, and although I have no right to judge that having had the luxury of being able to take Western freedoms for granted all my life, it saddens me to think that primarily such changes are to bring Western tourists in than serve the existing population. In a way, I think it's important that immediately we still experience friction to our comfort zone in these countries - obviously as a lesbian couple, plus the fact that we are vegetarian (although I don't imagine these are things that will be significant issues for much longer). Of course it is strange to reflect on this trip at all now with everything that has happened with Russia since - I wonder how different our experience would have been had we gone this month instead of last month (and had it not been for the eclipse, we would have been going to Georgia and Armenia as well). I am left with the general impression that what divides Russia and the US isn't their differences, but their similarities. As with disputes between individuals, they fight in the other their own heart of darkness. ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mal1 has done her own photo diary of the trip starting here - the captions become more animated a couple of pages in, once on the train, and give a real flavour of the whole experience: 'Recreate your own Trans-Siberian experience by sitting in a cupboard and staring at this for 50 hours. Eat nothing but pot noodles and porridge, and surround yourself with piles of unwashed socks for added realism.' |
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 I went with Katherine and Helen (two girls on the right, Helen is the redhead) and some of their friends this afternoon to the Shakespeare's Head, a local pub which does very good food. Usually on Sundays they do a roast, but today they were only doing sausages and mash. For the record I had the spinach and leek sausages, three cheese mashed potato, and the onion gravy. And very good it was too. Before the food arrived we mostly sat around reading the paper and chatting, and some people played the pub's boardgames.   ( + + + ) |
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I thought the cold had gone but I just phoned my parents and when I tried to speak all that came out was a tiny little noise that was barely human. I think I might need to rest my voice. |
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Today I passed a milestone in reaching my adulthood. I found my first grey hair! Or rather, white hair. And I think I'm going to keep it, no tearing it out like my sister told me to. I've been wondering how my hair would age, if it will go blonder or grey, and looks like it will go white. Which I'm fine with. Maybe I'll end up as a platinum blond one day after all *g* What else? Second week of the combined barbells/spinning class tonight, and my back hurts a bit but otherwise I feel fine. No barbell classes during the summer means that I'm a bit rusty on lifting technique, but hopefully 2 classes per week will remedy that quite fast. It's pretty great to combine it with spinning, and I know I'm crazily into my training schedule, but it IS so FUN. And I've never ever felt exercising was fun before. Best thing I've done this year, really getting into the spinning. And lastly, in the teen soap tradition started earlier this week by 90210, I finally watched the first 5 episodes of Gossip Girl and kind of like it. This is SO typical avoid working tactics for me, start watching a LOT of crappy TV instead, but it was fun and I really want to have Serena's hair! Why does my hair never reach those non-frizzy heights of volume? *jealous* *and apparently 14* |
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Because of working Saturday, no breakfast rolls. Today's lunch: lemon sole fillets baked in breadcrumbs according to Eliza Acton's excellent recipe, and sugar snap peas roasted with strips of ramiro peppers and garlic in macadamia nut oil. This week's bread: brown oatmeal, which I made with coarse oatmeal for half of the quantity, and half medium, which gives a very nice texture. |
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 If you like a vaguely twee disco beat with some winsome female vocals, then there’s a good few tracks of this album that are for you, the ones where Gene Serene takes vocal duties. It’s not my bag, it’s a good vocal performance, but the combination doesn’t really do it for me apart from The Hours which works well in a shuffle pop way.Personally I much prefer stuff like the title track, vocal free aside from the odd sample, giving Downfall much more freedom to crank up the beat. That and To Bring You Joy another instrumental, atmospheric track with robotic samples. Cherrybomb’s vocals on Stronger On The Breaks work well, weaving effortlessly into the music. Films is a break from the norm, a minimal driving electronic beat and some affected vocals. I’m very much liking Seven Dials, where Gene does her best Susanna Hoffs impression, making it sound like Bangles infused with electro pop. It’s a weird and wonderful album, one that will confuse and amuse in equal measures. Bon Viveur is out now on WIAIWYA |
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| Channel hopping, and I catch the 'Springtime for Hitler' sequence from the unnecessary movie of the musical of the movie of <i>The Producers</i>. And the blond Nazi taking the lead looks a bit familiar. Where've I seen him before ... ? Bloody hell, it's Barrowman! | ||||
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Late Of The Pier - The Bears Are Coming (Beyond The Wizards Sleeve Remix) I am obsessed with Late Of The Pier. I have been listening to their debut album Fantasy Black Channel almost every day for like a month now. I have sought out their remixes, one of which I share today. Produced by Erol Alkan and singer Sam Eastgate (AKA L.A. Priest), they offer a seamless blend of rock and electronics. The |
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Ok, the bedroom's base colour is done.      ... pretty much sums it up. It's ready for pictures and things now. I think it's actually beautiful. The colour should be cold or under-water-y, but it's not, it's soft and kind, like being tucked inside a blackbird's egg. The boys are brilliant when I'm decorating. They're always right there, one either side of me, trying to join in with whatever I'm doing. I suppose some people might find it annoying as they are often literally underfoot, but I adore them too much. Is that bad? Should I really grab them and move them out of the way? I can't. They make me smile. If someone could just organse a heart transplant for me now, pls. Pls. |
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 This is by far one of the more musically interesting things I’ve received recently…The cheerily titled Single Suicide Mode has a rumbly gothic slow tune while Karina intones suitably ethereal vocals other the top, sounding like she’s lost somewhere between Siouxsie and Miki from Lush. Then you have Waves Of Love which is a gothic X-Ray Spex and Something to Feel in which you can lose yourself in her dreamy voice, but the music is treading over old ground. Crash and Burn is a bit more spirited, and carries a malevolent threat. Despite all this, they do lose their way a bit, with too many tracks like Love Is Underwater being sketchy demos.28 Degrees Taurus myspace |
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| So where is all the hot Palin family slash fiction being posted? | ||||||
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 Ah, another Hoxton urchin, just what we need. James does that sigh/yelp a bit like Robert Smith, but generally sounds like a little kid who’s just discovered he’s wet his pants. Do The Circus Circus is a pleasant enough tune, just the horrid whine puts you right off. On Somewhere things seems better. James doesn’t try so hard and the less affected vocals work fine. It’s a gentle acoustic strum about hungry crocodiles, light bondage and wise postmen. Finally Death Of A Bus Driver continues the uphill progress. Over a sweet little rumbling piano line James intones some wistful lyrics and proves the less he tries, the better he gets. It’s a shame the EP ends here, as things kept getting better the more it progressed.Do The Circus Circus + Other Songs is out now on Art Goes Pop James Severy myspace |
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From the Hay On Wye Festival last year: [Part of Young Marble Giants weekend] |
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Ten years ago, if someone told James Hetfield that Metallica songs were being played at loud volume as part of a process of torture, he'd have been instructing lawyers to ensure that he was getting his sixteen cents per play. Today, though, Hetfield is "proud" that Metallica was the Gunatanamo torturer's tune of choice: "Part of me is proud is because they chose METALLICA," Hetfield said about the reports that the band's song "Enter Sandman" was used during the interrogation of Mohammed al-Qahtani — known as the 20th hijacker on Sept. 11 — and that listening to the track brought al-Qahtani to tears "because he thought he was hearing the sound of Satan." James added, "It's strong; it's music that's powerful. It represents something that they don't like — maybe freedom, aggression… I don't know… freedom of speech. And then part of me is kind of bummed about it that people worry about us being attached to some political statement because of that. We've got nothing to do with this and we're trying to be as apolitical as possible, 'cause I think politics and music, at least for us, don't mix. It separates people, [and] we wanna bring people together. So, so be it. I can't say 'Stop.' I can't say 'Do it.' It is just a thing — it's not good or bad." Isn't possible that Al-Qahtani was sobbing not because he thought he was hearing the sound of Satan, but because he knew he was hearing a bloody Metallica track on an endless loop? And how can Hetfield simper that he can't either condemn or condone the torture of people using his music as a tool? If the Wilson sisters from Heart have the guts to stand up and express a clear opinion about the use of their music, why can't Hetfield? And given that the first half of his quote you can almost hear the blood flowing southwards with macho delight, doesn't that make his pathetic refusal to take a stance even more embarrassing? Hetfield loves freedom of speech; it's just he's too afraid to actually use it. |
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Let's hope that this is the last Madonna world tour for a while - at least long enough for her to think of something new. Because if she's so out of ideas she's reduced to trying to generate attention by shouting 'poo, willy, wee' ("by dedicating Like A Virgin to the Pope") while playing in Rome. Amusingly, even the Italian press couldn't seem arsed to work up a froth about it: "At the Roman leg of her tour, Madonna didn't miss the opportunity for a provocation that will certainly be discussed," Corriere della Sera said on its front page. Almost certainly. Unless a dog runs past the window with a ham in its mouth, or Wolf from Gladiators gives an interview or something more interesting happens. |
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OMG, Ch4 "When Women Rule the World" ... ""Bitch ... here. Boys we own you. If you want to stare[1] you must obare[2]." o_O Well, put that in your pipe and smirk it. [1] Northern for "Stay" [2] "Obey", ditto. |
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Has everyone read the google comic about it's new browser? If all computer training manuals and documentation was like that then it would have been so much easier to get my mcse. Very quiet weekend, but saw Man on wire which was excellent, even if I had to hide behind my hands for a little bit. I also got a headset mic delivered after winning it on ebay, and have discovered that it was cheaper because there's no adapter or power booster pack - I have learned that mini XLR sockets are not standardised so I anticipate having fun searching for a part or selling it on on ebay. Quite a lot of drumming coming up. hurrah. Also have to do my CV although I should hold off on actually getting another job till the end of this year as there's some touring coming up. |
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in this vid i'm singing the sound of silence, a capella, 2 vocals. :-) it's such a pretty pretty song. the audio-only version can be downloaded here: http://www.willowing.org/music.html btw. i've updated quite a few pages on my site; www.willowing.org (i've been really good i must say, in the past my sites just used to sort of die out, but with this version i've kept it updated really well) |
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| Saturday, September 6th, 2008 |
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It's almost a fortnight since I got back from Edinburgh, but I still haven't totally recovered. I am trying to press on with stuff, but on a day off like today I realise that I am still knackered. I slept in until nearly 2pm. I have been overdoing it a bit I guess and didn't get in til late after my gig in Cranleigh last night. Still, impressive powers of sleeping. Tonight I was out with a friend and we decided to go for dinner without having made any reservations. |
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| Sunday, September 7th, 2008 |
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I have purchased Spore! Once I've cleaned enough space on my hard drive, I may even install it. I am still sick with cold. Yesterday I didn't eat properly so I screwed up my stomach too. I'm tired out and I want to finish unpacking but I'm too tired out. Boh. |
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Hey we have just made all our tacks available on the internet! thats 3 albums and more than 15 songs by The Lazy Ones!!! so hellish i know! hey i have written a bio of the band too LOL i love lastfm! http://www.last.fm/music/The+Lazy+Ones/ btw can anybody tell me if they have a copy of rory is a queer? I don't! i lost it! soo baaadd! please help! xxx |
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Dept of 'Mrs Queen: She Dead': 'Streetwise' British teenagers are ignorant about sex, survey reveals (like, what do they think causes the teenage pregnancy/STD stats - something in the water?). And on this: 'It found that three-quarters of girls said they would not consider having an abortion', I'm very hmmm, because one would really like to know if they'd ever been in the position where it was one of the options, or whether this is entirely hypothetical. Me, I suspect this is an opinion which can change very, very rapidly in specific circumstances. Dept of 'Men are terribly poor stuff' reprised (scroll down): Grazia magazine ran a moving story last week about Tanya Rowe, 28, who is suffering from breast cancer and has only months to live.... With additional allusion to yet again, Science sez Teh Menz cannot help themselvz: According to a study by the Karolinska Institute in Sweden, certain men may be genetically programmed to be unfaithful.... So, according to the study, these unfaithful men (not women strangely) are hormonally fated to cheat on their partners and seek sex elsewhere. When, we ask, will prenatal diagnosis of this condition be available? And on Male Weirdness continued, Howard Jacobson on why the green-eyed monster is at the dark heart of male sexual passion. Pass me the Ugh, with a side order of Euwwww. Dept of Some People Will Believe Anyone in a White Coat Calling Themself Doctor: plus even if they are eerie advertisments for their own cosmetic surgery practice. And, in respect of the latter, perhaps it is a good thing not to define one's identity about looking hottt: 'You reach a certain age. It's not that we're just stupid chickens with too much money who want to look 20 or 30 years old again. It's not that your husband or your boyfriend or whatever is losing interest. There's just a point, it comes for every woman, when you reach a certain age, and the skin looks wrinkly and suddenly you're miserable. For beautiful women, this is hard.' Or maybe, she just started pleasing herself? Dept of writing across gender lines: even though it was girly and twee (despite being written by a man). I think the conjunction wanted there might be 'because' rather than despite? Dept of perhaps tangential pedantry: this is an article of exemplary creeped-outness, but since when did The Observer start employing greengrocers? 'it's critics liken it to 'bear-"baiting".' Dept of There Is No Scale On Which To Calibrate How Much I Do Not Care: Polly Vernon describes how, last month, a pair of teeny weeny denim shorts induced a fashion crisis, while Boggled Hedgehog is Completely Boggled by the intelligence that Observer Woman is Supplement of the Year WTF???!!! |
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We seemed to do quite a lot of walking in the US despite having set out to do a road trip - Sean and Sophia nearly walked the legs off us in Detroit and then we went and did the same in New York, walking from 43nd Street down to Brooklyn. I learned a valuable lesson that I'd somehow not got round to before then - that yes, shoes with proper support for ankles and heels make a big difference when you're doing something other than just slopping around. It got to the stage in New York that we'd only been walking a brief time when my knee and then my hips started to get tired and achy - I was wearing pretty ballerina flats which were old enough that they constantly slipped off at the back of the heel. Later that day, though not soon enough for my legs really, I cracked and bought a pair of much more sensible trainer-type shoes that fitted properly, didn't make my feet sweaty and smelly, and felt oh so much better to wear when walking. Cue the pretty ballerina flats going in the bin (they were also worn down at the heel enough to justify this). I thought I'd learned my lesson, but when we ended up walking a very slow 3 1/2 miles from our motel in the Outer Banks to the chosen restaurant du soir I realised there was another pair of sandals that needed to go the way of all flesh. And then to complete the throwing-out orgy I found that a previously-nice pair of linen summer trousers that I wear to work had gone from having thin fabric in the crotch area to being unusable with large holes. So they had to go, too. We did buy various frivolities in the US and so the net thrown-away-vs-brought-back balance is definitely in the favour of the latter. R bought a cute little baby rattlesnake made out of old bicycle chains; at the same place (the Kentucky Artisan Center) I bought a huge gobstopper that I can't imagine anyone actually being able to eat let alone enjoying it! There was amber and nice wooden pressies at the Polish shop in Hamtramck, and a clock at the Chicago Institute of Architecture (we've been thinking about getting one anyway, but yeah, getting one in a foreign country is probably a bit much). Not quite the "take nothing but photographs, leave nothing but footprints" idea, but it's all good. |
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Felix is covered in mud and is eating a doughnut with a fork. :) We have just been to Ashton Court to meet up with Sarah, Ed and Kitty, which was lovely. Felix is a bit smitten with Kitty and is still asking where she is. Aw. He thinks that her name is 'Bean' for some reason. :) Home now and the atheist is washing up before I get to work on a potato, pea and cauliflower curry. Can't wait! :) We have been talking about having a naming ceremony for the boys and definitely want to go ahead with it next Spring. We will have a house in Bristol by then so am planning a garden party with lots of cakes and a buffet and roulade and champagne and pimms for after the ceremony. Am really excited by the prospect of this as I have always wanted to throw a really genteel garden party. ;) We have Halloween and Christmas before then though and am already planning the food and everything for both, mainly because Felix is at the age now where such things are REALLY thrilling. I think his favourite event is bonfire night though! :) There will almost definitely be another Gin and Whores sometime in the first half of next year as well. ;) I now have a backlog of two copies of Harper's Bazaar to get through - last month's 'British' special and the current edition which seems to be all about posh goth fashion. Excellent. |
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...had a great night last night. It was fabulous to see Mr Maggs in all his spendour again. I didn't drink much as I was feeling queasy. The wife drank enough for the two of us and was truculent all the way home, but me and John managed to drag her to the door which we reached at 4.30am, a full 30 minutes than usual. N26 FTW!. The N26 has slightly changed it's route and as a result can be at Leyton Midland road from Liverpool Street in about 30 minutes, compared with the hour it usually takes the N8 to get from Liverpool St to Leytonstone. The upshot is that it is now quicker for us to get the N26 and take the slightly longer walk from the bus stop to home, as we still get home earlier. The photos from last night are on Facebook so go look...If you aren't my friend on Facebook, try this - http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?a Today i've done the shopping and I'm now watching my boss, Sir Gus O'Donnell on BBC Parliament, explaining away the government's data loss in a session of the Public Administration Committee on the 15th July. It's interesting to see this as it has created so much work for me since it all happened. Tonight, I think will be a quiet night. |
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Club Dickon: Some Readers' Lives
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blank.
happy.
tired.