November 6, 2009

Spoken For.

First they came for the mime artists,
but I didn’t speak up, because I was a mime artist.

Then they came for the chainsaw jugglers,
but I didn’t speak up, because I was juggling chainsaws and needed to concentrate.

Then they came for the chainsaw-juggling Trappist monks,
but I didn’t speak up, because I was a Trappist monk, juggling chainsaws, and not only did I need to concentrate on said juggling but also if I had spoken up, this would have been a violation of my holy vows.

Then they came specifically for me,
but I didn’t speak up because they were actually very attractive and I wanted to go with them anyway. Also, I honestly believed up until this point that I was the only chainsaw-juggling, mime artist Trappist monk in the world, and that’s a very lonely existence.

October 21, 2009

Considered Opinions (Patience)

During my time in Krakow for this year’s UNSOUND festival, snippets, clips, pictures, thoughts and impressions in their immediacy will be posted on my facebook page and/or twitter

More thoughtful considerations will appear here, retrospectively. For now, please enjoy this picture of the view from my hotel window:

View from window of Hotel Kossak, Krakow

This picture does not do Krakow justice, let me tell you. It doesn’t actually do itself justice, to be honest. It’s just the first one I took and therefore has a certain authenticity that you might care about.

October 16, 2009

Entering My Mid-Late Twenties

Yes yes, happy birthday to me, and so on. A morning brandy in the dirty sunshine for nobody’s ever cleaned my windows. Certainly I’m no longer in my mid-twenties. The other day I finished reading ‘The Holographic Universe’ by Michael Talbot, so it’s hard to get too sentimental about times and dates just now, psychologically. Look, apparently:

“Recently, David Eisenberg, M.D., a clinical research fellow at Harvard Medical School, published an account of two school-age Chinese sisters in Beijing who can ’see’ well enough with the skin of their armpits to read notes and identify colors”.

And, look, apparently,

“In one unique instance an NDEer [Out of Body/Near Death Experience-er] was shown a completely different history of the earth, a history that would have developed if ‘certain events’ had not taken place around the time of the Greek philosopher and mathematician Pythagoras three thousand years ago. The vision revealed if these events, the precise nature of which the woman does not disclose, had failed to take place, we would now be living a world of peace and harmony market ‘by the absence of religious wars and a Christ figure’.”

No don’t let the unfortunate use of the phrase ‘peace and harmony’ jar your jam thoughts, he ha he, it’s actually a highly scientific book. The ‘holographic theory’ of reality (more of an idea than a theory, really, but basically the idea that reality is no more or less real that a holographic image, every part containing an image of the whole, and decidedly more malleable and less conventionally ‘physical’ than science has led us to believe) explains pretty much everything, according to Talbot. Everything, that is, including; near death experiences, the nonlocality of subatomic particles, UFOs, psychic powers (telepathy, psychokinesis, etc.), miracles, Swedenborg, the Jansenist ‘convulsarians’, reflexology, time travel, reincarnation, the ‘Seth’ books, the placebo effect, fairies, phantom limbs, past life memories, retro and pre-cognition, Sai Baba, shamanism, regression hypnosis, Edgar Cayce, multiple personality disorder and ghosts. Everything, simply put, that tends to make scientists uncomfortable. It’s a hugely entertaining, and in fact very persuasive, read. So read it.

I could go on, I really could, but as I was writing this, the new Idle Tigers album, ‘Persisting Like a Racehorse’ arrived through the letter box. Considered opinions to follow.

September 22, 2009

How To Use Your Brain

‘The Rebel Sell’ by Joseph Heath and Andrew Porter is a thought-provoking book. If you’re clever enough (and you are) to have a brain spacious enough to have thoughts provoked around in it (and you do) you’ll understand immediately that a book being described as “thought-provoking” means nothing at all, or nothing much. Everything is, in its own unique context, thought-provoking. You know how sometimes when you go to the toilet and you’re not wide awake, you can end up weeing on your feet a bit? (This can happen with or without a penis, and don’t let the women tell you any different). Well, that’s thought-provoking. It provokes thought. And what about when the back of your throat itches and you try and scratch it with your tongue but that does no good at all? That’s thought-provoking too. Getting splashed by a bus not bothering to slow down while driving through a puddle? It provokes thought. It is thought-provoking. So what about this paragraph, from ‘The Rebel Sell’:

“”The idea of a counterculture is ultimately based on a mistake. At best, countercultural rebellion is a pseudo-rebellion: a set of dramatic gestures devoid of any progressive political or economic consequences and that detract from the urgent task of building a more just society. In other words, it is rebellion that provides entertainment for the rebels, and nothing much else. At worst, countercultural rebellion actually promotes unhappiness, by undermining or discrediting social norms and institutions that actually serve a valuable function. In particular, the idea of a counterculture has produced a level of contempt for democratic politics that has consistently handicapped the progressive left (not least, by refusing to acknowledge the distinction between compromising and ’selling out’).”

This is thought-provoking in the sense that you might not agree with it. If its authors are right, you’re quite likely even to take offence at it – but when you reflect, you’ll likely discover that most of what you read, you chose to read because you expect to agree with it. You’re just not as virtuous as you think you are.

I realised precisely this while reading ‘The Rebel Sell’. It had a picture of a coffee cup emblazoned with Che Guevara’s icon-face on the cover. I expected it would be a gently-mocking, almost-intellectual expression of niggling doubt at the real political potential of smashing Starbucks’ windows while wearing a gas mask, but it was much more. The book’s actually a full-on critique of the very idea of ‘counterculture’. Heath and Porter argue that the whole idea of ‘changing the world by changing yourself’ as a credible ideology, by claiming psychological, philosophical and political depth, achieves the opposite of its proclaimed intentions, and is ultimately shallow by comparison with what’s become far less fashionable: traditional left-wing political action within the existing democratic institutional framework. Smelt the system, rather than smash it. Beginning with the claim that 1960’s individualism was an unnecessarily paranoid reaction to enforced conformity of Nazi Germany in particular, and to mass-production capitalism in general, they move through a total rejection of the foundation of Freudianism (denying the very existence of ‘the subconscious’) to the argument that left-wing politics has been reduced to what is essentially the commodification of the self-help industry.

Thought-provoking, in the sense that I’ve been meaning to get around to just that sort of thing for several months now, and probably already would have if I had the self-discipline to get out of bed earlier on my days off.

The problem the authors (at least of whom is Canadian, obviously, by the way) are highlighting is that the ‘countercultural critique of consumer capitalism’ is in actual fact the ultimate expression of consumer capitalism: individual self-expression is not subversive. It’s subservient. Capitalism needs an ever-increasing variety of ‘individuals’ demanding that their own particular needs be satisfied by ‘the system’ in order that they can ‘express themselves’ and ‘assert their individuality’. All this achieves, from an economic point of view, is increased competition and consumer choice. It poses no challenge to capitalism because it is capitalism. Assuming otherwise is based on the outdated Marxist position that capitalism is basically about mass production and homogeneity, which involves subjugating the people and forcing conformity, against the natural inclination of human beings for freedom and self-determination, when capitalism is really a lot, lot cleverer (and more human, perhaps even more humane) than that. Ouch.

They put it better than I do:

“The power that the myth of counterculture has exercised over political consciousness in the past half-century is ultimately a testament to the massive trauma inflicted upon Western civilization by Nazi Germany. After the Holocaust, what had previously been only a moderate distaste for conformity, common among artists and romantics, got pumped up into a hypertrophied abhorrence of anything that even smacked of regularity of predictability. Conformity was elevated to the status of cardinal sin, and mass society became the dominant image of a modern dystopia. Many of those who naturally have come forth as champions of the people in an earlier century became increasingly afraid of those very same people – afraid of the latent potential for violence and cruelty that supposedly resided in their hearts. For the progressive left, the wound was even deeper. Many became afraid not just of fascism, but in many cases of society itself. The left began to distrust many of the basic building blocks of social organisation, such as social norms (including etiquette), laws and bureaucratic forms of organisation. Yet without these building blocks, it is simply not possible to organise large-scale cooperation among human beings”.

Oh dear. Back to work. Better still, stop expressing yourself. Or if you really want to be sincere, lie. It’ll provoke thoughts.

August 20, 2009

How to Walk and Talk at the Same Time

“Thus far there had been nothing worse than woman-stealing on both sides: but for what happened next the Greeks, they say, were seriously to blame; for it was the Greeks who were, in a military sense, the aggressors. Abducting young women, in their opinion, is not, indeed, a lawful act; but it is stupid after the event to make a fuss about it. The only sensible thing is to take no notice; for it is obvious that no young woman allows herself to be abducted if she does not wish to be”. – Herodotus, ‘The Histories’ Bk. 1

Obvious, isn’t it? After all, what young woman doesn’t want to be abducted by Greeks? Sensible people take no notice anyway, girls, so there’s nothing to worry about.

Meanwhile, at the 1972 World Chess Championship, Bobby Fisher, skinny, serious, and eventually buried in Iceland, sweats. It’s the Cold War: the Soviet Union and the United States are engaged wholeheartedly in the act of not bombing each other. William Basinski is 14 years old, too young yet to study jazz saxophone and modern composition at North Texas State University: but don’t doubt that he eventually will. Over in England, Edward Heath is Prime Minister. He, too, sweats but more from being fat than from the pressure of applying advanced chess tactics on live television. It is a well-known fact, less well-known then but that’s no excuse, that fat people sweat more. I know this because I have some fat friends. I, too, am a bit fat. Depending on your point of view on various interrelated matters, being fat is just a sign of economic prosperity and not something to be ashamed of or resisted through a change in diet and exercise because each and every one of us, fat or or thin, will certainly die no matter how much probiotic yoghurt we ingest on the treadmill each morning. Would you rather be in bed? I know I would. Ted Heath: dead; Bobby Fisher: dead. William Basinski: Disintegration is a girl’s best friend.

July 24, 2009

Three Forty-Nine

“Expressing yourself is always a mistake. Be resolutely conscious: let expression, for you, be synonymous with lying”.

July 21, 2009

The Powdered Milk Effect

Joni Mitchell has recorded some truly terrible albums in her time. This isn’t something that should surprise us. Plenty of musicians who remain popular even now have made terrible albums – U2, as far as I can discern, are under a contractual obligation to make nothing but consistently terrible albums over and over again for the rest of eternity. Countless other bands and “artists” of unfathomable levels of fame from every decade since pop music began – ABBA, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, Coldplay, Led Zepplin, Muse, Bob Marley, Arctic Monkeys, Metallica, Amy Winehouse, Jamiroquai – have built entire careers on having no redeeming features whatsoever. But Joni Mitchell is one of unnervingly few musicians who slid from sublime into shit without any apparent awareness of what she was doing.

Before we go any further, let’s not pretend it’s irrelevant poor Joni also has a face like a horse:

Moving on, let’s take stock of the fact that three of Mitchell’s first four albums (“Song to a Seagull”, “Ladies of the Canyon” and “Blue”) are her best. Oneiric and charming pieces all, I’d venture Mitchell might well be revered today as a female Nick Drake had she, well, not died there and then (because dying young, in pop music, should only really be taken as seriously as a comparatively tasteful marketing gimmick) but just stopped making albums. Found herself a river she could sail away on, say, legendary status secured.

Joni Mitchell did the opposite of that. Since “Blue” was released 38 years ago, she has recorded no less than 17 more albums, at least 10 of which (“Court and Spark”, “Night Ride Home”, “Dog Eat Dog”, “Wild Things Run Fast”, Turbulent Indigo”, “Taming the Tiger”, “Mingus”, Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter”, to name most of them) I can confidently say are profoundly dreadful. Now I don’t have any high or principled objection to this as such, it’s just that listening to all of these recordings I can discern no awareness at all in Mitchell’s performances of how profoundly dreadful she is capable of being. Her heart has been in it from the beginning. She’s kept it real, and all that sort of jiggerypokery. This baffles me. How can someone become so crap without realising it?

At this point I could easily rant on for paragraphs and go all intellectual on yo’ ass but I take one step back and I realise that as a matter of fact, this sort of thing happens all the time.

July 1, 2009

In Defence of Twitter

There’s plenty o’ reasons not to defend twitter. It’s base and vulgar, context-less blogging for the ultra-caffeinated super-impatient; it elevates those with the shortest attention spans to hallowed celebrity; it’s an insipid rumour-machine; it’s full of SPAMMERS up to their usual games of penis enlargement, automated Forex trading and other dubious schemes, usually involving villas, “adult” “chat” and/or online poker.

The obvious aside, however, I’m discovering that twitter can actually focus the attention, inspire the intellectually constipated and provide a context for super-disciplined works of art. Take for example Brian Eno’s twitter account, which although he’s becoming increasingly preoccupied with communication (a shame) and jumping on the unfathomably bizarre twitter wagonband of actually believing you can affect the political climate of Iran by turning a picture of yourself green, is staying true to his ambient self with such oblique tweets as, “Remove the middle, extend the edges”, “Move towards the unimportant” and “Think inside the box”. It’s a delightful thing to subscribe to, micro-digestible and nourishes the digital self for hours.

Then there’s twitterers who aren’t even people, like NatHistoryWhale, who’s “the whale on the ceiling of the Natural History in New York City”, fond of sometimes trite (“Somedays, no matter which way you turn, you feel like you’re swimming against the current”) but more often silkily humourous (“I wonder what ice cream tastes like. So many of the kids who come through here talk as though it’s better than krill”) tweets with a skeletal, whale’s-eye view from a presumably very high ceiling.

Even David Lynch is giving it a go.

Or this geezer, who I don’t understand at all, and therefore “follow” devotedly.

And of course, there’s me.

So when all’s said and fun, against my instincts I’m standing very much side-by-side with twitter. I’m inclined to say that being part of it is like being part of some kind of amicable orgy – I’m even verging on suggesting how wonderful it is to be part of a global network of lonely people just “looking to connect” – but don’t worry, I’m not going to. It’s just that, well, it’s nice to think that every tweet you make floats out into the ether and – just maybe – makes some stranger’s perspective that little bit wider, or at least their day that little bit less horrible. Even though it probably doesn’t.

June 30, 2009

Needless to Say

Needless to say, the park at 4:15 this morning was deserted. At that time in the morning, even stepping out of your house is a triumph. As I walk around (hands behind my back, like a gentleman) it occurs to me how appropriate it would be to come across a bin bag, stuffed with cash. Alas: empty vodka bottles and packets of 10 Richmond Superkings mate; that’s more or less all. The sun will rise, needless to say.

June 28, 2009

Mackerel Tower

I’m very proud of my collection of empty John West Mackerel tins, which today I was compelled to move from the bottom shelf of a bookcase to a much more spacious and imposing position on a shelf I made myself, six foot high, adjacent to my bedroom door:

Mackerel Tower

Which, logically, makes my bedroom the North Atlantic:

Mackerel Tower 2

And I’m not just proud of this oily collection but also of the shelf they’ve now taken their rightful place upon. You see, when I’m forced bysize and circumstance to transplant the collection a second time, I’ll be able to say of the shelf that once held them, it’s a shadow of my former shelf.

This sort of thing requires a great deal of effort.

June 11, 2009

Your Horoscopes for Today

Pieces

You most likely will not spend the next twenty four hours in an unbroken state of total euphoria. If someone asks you a question, respond to it. Sometimes it’s OK to lie. Sometimes it isn’t. You will find that you can tell a lot about a person from their personality. The orbital path of Venus through your sign this month suggests you will probably use a public toilet at some point between now and the end of your life.

Sagittarius

Be open to new ideas. Somebody may well say something you don’t fully agree with. This is perfectly normal; just assume they are wrong and move on. They may not be wrong, but now is not the time for conflict. Alternatively, now is the time for conflict. The choices you make will have consequences. Neptune’s passage through the constellation Bolloxia indicates the reckless spending of money may not be in your best interests long term. Don’t be surprised if you’re walking past a butcher’s shop and suddenly find your thoughts turning to sandwiches.

Aries

Your employer may ask you to do something you don’t want to do today. Do it anyway, and try to resist the temptation to wee in his latte, even if a perfect opportunity presents itself. Sleep in your socks and you might find your shower tomorrow morning is marginally more pleasant. If you have a penis, do not stick it in the toaster.

Libra

Be kind to animals. Enjoy your morning poo. If you have an itch, scratch it, and don’t be afraid to vocalise the satisfaction you feel. If a man with a pony tail approaches you at a train station with an offer that initially sounds appealing, think twice before accepting. His “gremlin joo-joo sods” may not have the effect he promises. Eat a hearty breakfast, before leaving the house if this fits with your morning schedule.

Gemini

The full moon this Tuesday suggests now is a perfect time not to engage in acts of gross public indecency. Be wary of men named Wayne who have tattoos of spiders anywhere above the waist. Believe everything you see on the news. Tell someone exactly what you think of them. If this opinion is pejorative, express it from a safe distance. You may find that not everyone you meet instantly throws themselves at your feet in adoration.

Cancer

Do not aggravate a leopard this week. The alignment of Saturn with some other big shiny object billions of miles away has profound implications for very specific details of your personal life. Do not propose marriage to strangers on trains. Eat a sausage, or a vegetarian substitute. If your house is burgled, don’t take it personally. It’s just that you were out and lots of expensive electrical equipment was plainly visible through your open ground floor window. Drink a glass of water.

Leo

You are not an astronaut: it’s time to face facts. Your job is dull and meaningless and could be done twice as efficiently by a machine. A year from now, it probably will be. Either that, or by a man from Delhi who’ll insist to you over the phone that his name is Charlie. His name is not Charlie, and the bank loan he is offering you is extortionate. Climb a tree.

Virgo

The prominence of Mercury in the north west indicates a 0.1 – 0.2% chance of having a mildly upsetting dream about potato salad, home-made explosives, German foreign policy or chiropody. Now might be a good time to go on holiday. Stay away from warzones, Europe, America, Africa and Asia. If you’re not married, chances are you’ve thought about what it would be like at some point. The past is not the future.

Capricorn

Doctors are well-educated people whose advice can have beneficial effects if you’re not well. Cook. The microwave is not your friend, as is clearly demonstrated by the constellation Lyra passing through the constellation Dracon, even though that happened billions of years ago before life on earth even evolved. Form an opinion. Take your shoes off before your underwear. Do your best not to appear ridiculous. You will eventually die.

Scorpio

The sea will claim her children as her own. Perhaps you should take the bus instead. You are not Julius Ceaser, and you never will be.

Taurus

Taurus is the sign on the lion, or the bull, or some other beast with powerful legs and big teeth. This applies only to you. Be a monster, but don’t forget to turn on the charm when necessary. A little bribery goes a long way.

Aquarius

Sleep in a bed, with sheets and pillows. Don’t spend too much time worrying about your hair. Watch less television. Stare out the window instead. Entertainment is a state of mind. You may have eaten bread before but that shouldn’t stop you doing it again. Bread has been a staple part of the human diet for millennia. Don’t arrange your books alphabetically: such is the road to destruction.

June 6, 2009

The Poem That Ends Rather Well

There once was a poem
that didn’t start well
because the first line ended with “poem”.
And “poem”, you see,
is a word that can be
one with which you’ll have difficulty
rhyming with anything other than “poem”.
So, demonstrably, I think it can be
shown that if you’re in the business of poet-ery
your poems should not refer to themselves so readily,
see?

June 4, 2009

A Slogan for a Constipation Remedy.

“For when shit doesn’t happen”.

 

I thank you.

June 4, 2009

Out in the Back Yard

The flying resident quaffs a pint of fun like Joan of Arc without lungs, sitting sunshine fan phantasm mooch, trying to lose height rather than weight, this is expected, this much.

This much is much too much.

Much mooch moo moon mulch.

May 30, 2009

Unfulfilled Ambition

Not a day has gone by this very merry month of May when I haven’t wished I was a cartoonist. This for one reason and one reason alone: so that I could draw a cartoon of an owl sitting by a fireplace, reading a book called, “How to be a Better Owl”. I don’t know what the caption to this cartoon would be, whether there’d be any dialogue, a punchline or even a title but I can’t help thinking that this is hilarious. So for whatever the reason is that I’m not to be a nationally syndicated celebrity cartoonist, my mind has wandered down the path of Other Possible Self-Help Books for Non-Humans. Here are some I’ve come up with:

21 Steps to a More Productive Dolphin

Effective Time Management for Three-Toed Sloths

Assertiveness for Slugs

Sexual Harassment Legislation for Rabbits

Releasing Your Inner Tadpole: Finding Your True Identity as a Frog

How to be a More Reasonable Dog

Self-Actualisation for Amoebas and Other Single-Celled Organisms Stuck in an Evolutionary Rut

Entrepreneurship for the Modern Horse

They all have a certain ring to them, don’t you think? It’s a niche market, I’m telling you.

May 26, 2009

Who Needs Soul When You Got Fish?

Fishture

Deep comfy on the bed off the sea, this sort of thing is watching you.