The OPINION

If you’ve been my friend at all, in any way and for any length of time, it’s unlikely you’ll never have heard me describe to you my favourite ever news story. It was on the BBC News and concerned the 2000 American Presidential Election, which some people believe was democratic. It wasn’t really much to do with the election as such and made no mention of candidates, policies, sordid sex scandals or any of the usual matters. Instead, it reported on what “normal people” were thinking about the current political situation in their country. The inspired move the BBC made was actually to fly out one of their reporters to the nondescript town of - that’s right - Normal, so as to interview some of its inhabitants (Normal people, you see). Normal, Illinois. It’s a real place. Clickity click on the image for indisputable evidence.

In celebration of this, the BBC’s crowning achievement, while at the same time having nothing really to with it at all, I’ve spent some time this afternoon typing dirty words into google earth and seeing where it took me. Well, alright, “normal” isn’t quite a dirty word but all the rest of the actual, genuine places below are. So if you’re offended by arrangements of letters that in some way denote sexual activity or other unhygienic bodily functions, stop reading now. Then go fuck yourself, penis-breath.

1. Wank.

Wank is located in Bavaria, Germany, and presumably people who originate from Wank are called “wankers”. There is also a Mount Wank. Who said Germans have no sense of humour?

2. Shit.

I have absolutely nothing to say about Iran. My pointing out that there is a place called “Shit” in that country, doubtlessly full of lovely people, should not be misconstrued as any kind of political comment about anything at all. It’s just funny. So please, on the off chance that someone who actually has the power to make these sort of decisions is reading this, don’t drop any bombs on it. Things generally turn out better for all concerned when they aren’t bombed.

3. Boring.

Boring is in Denmark. This does not mean that Denmark is boring, although there’s every indication that it is.

4. Wales.

There is no reason whatsoever for anyone ever to go to Wales, which is why no one in history has ever been there voluntarily. The only substantial reason to go anywhere near Wales is to visit the Severn Bridge in Bristol, a popular suicide spot for teenagers and young professionals. If you make it all the way across the bridge without plunging your beautiful young body down into a watery/raw-sewage-y grave, you’ll then actually be in Wales, and you’ll only have yourself to blame. At this point, a mouthful of raw sewage followed shortly afterwards by the sweet release of death and a spot on the evening news might well come to seem like the preferable alternative. Which, come to think of it, could well be why the bridge is such a successful suicide destination in the first place. The only solution I can think of, therefore is to bomb the Severn Bridge, which contradicts wonderfully the point I made above.

5. Hell.

If you’ve ever met an American, it’s possible that at some point he or she told you to “go to hell”. That isn’t to say Americans are ruder than anybody else of course: it’s just something they say, sometimes. Fortunately, if this ever happens to you (again), you now know there’s no need for you to die: just get on a plane (or a boat, if you’re worried about your carbon footprint) and go to Hell.

[Note: this post is mirrored on Locke is Great but it was too long and I enjoyed writing it too much not spread the lovin']

So, Jacob’s told John to “move the island”. Simple, ridiculous and baffling as only Lost can be. Also, Locke is the new Ben. There’s much to think about, so let’s indulge in a critical appreciation of John Locke’s life and work, as portrayed in this episode.
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Me: Have you seen, ‘About Schmidt’ ?

Someone else: No. What’s it about?

Me: Schmidt.

People, what’s going on? Why aren’t you swarming to my blog like you used to? Has the magic gone? Have I lost my mojo?

Or is it just that I changed the name of my “girls kissing each other” post?

Nobody even puts much here anymore. Do I have to get myself some new sycophants? Come forth, you sniveling wretches, come forth!
Wait…

Oh shit, now there’s another reference to girls kissing each other on my blog.
OK, come on then. Let’s be having you.
Sigh.

And on the fifteenth day, wherein the hope of Jonny Opinion had reached its lowest ebb and he had cried out unto the Lord in anguish and in despair, he did receive from the city of Liverpool in the west a revelation written upon parchment headed with an attractive blue and green logo that did spell out “John West”. For Jonny had even in his darkest hour refused to curse the Lord, and had instead prayed for patience, wherefore the Lord rewarded Jonny thus, with these words:
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Jacob?

Portishead, ‘Third’

It was 1 o’clock this morning when iTunes kindly let me know that ‘Third’ was ready to download. ‘Third’ is Portishead’s new album, by the way. You might not know who Portishead are if you’re immature, because their last album came out 11 years ago, in the magical year of 1997, when everything was possible but very little actually happened. So, kiddo, if you don’t already, respect Portishead. Portishead do things when they’re good and ready and aren’t really in the business of ringtones.

Admittedly, 11 years is rather a long time to make an album, this being more or less the combined length of both world wars, and the album in question containing only 49 minutes of music. Does that matter? Perhaps, if you’re a music journalist but you’re not, and good for you. Still, as Ross has recently reminded us, we all should be making every possible effort to listen to every piece of recorded music in the world, so from a certain perspective (mine, or thereabouts) Portishead are doing us a favour.
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This morning I awoke to find myself in a flat horribly empty of any kind of coffee. Still more horrible was this made by the fact that the flat I awoke in was my flat. You’re not really at home unless there’s coffee somewhere between you and the outside world. So it was that I decked myself in an almost decent amount of clothing and made my way down to the corner shop. There I bought a jar of Mellow Bird’s, which will have to do. Examining the jar closely on the 90-second walk back to what was about to become my home once more, I find that there’s a picture on the label of what can only be a cup of coffee. And next to this cup, there is a caption, and it reads, “serving suggestion”.

Do I feel another letter about to pen itself?
Why not spend some of your leisure time today penning yourself?

Let us turn our minds again to the strangeness of popular music. Here are the lyrics to a song called, ‘Girl in the War’, by Josh Ritter:

Peter said to Paul, ‘you know all those words we wrote
Are just the rules of the game and the rules are the first to go.
But now talking to God is Laurel begging Hardy for a gun
I got a girl in the war, man, I wonder what it is we done’.
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Most of the evils of the world would simply disappear if more people just listened to cLOUDDEAD, who look like this:

They sound a bit like that too.

cLOUDDEAD

I’m often writing letters like this but this is one of the first I’ve actually bothered to send. Second class, mind; but still I sincerely expect a reply by this time next week. Continue Reading »

Page 159 of Thomas Pynchon’s ‘Against the Day’, a book nobody’s finished reading yet, introduces us to, “the mysterious shamanic power known as bilocation, which enables those with the gift literally to be in two or more places, often widely separated, at the same time”. Continue Reading »

Don’t believe it when you’re told the world is getting smaller. There’s piles of websites around like Subterranea Britannica , Abandoned Stations and even entire web communities dedicated to the art of urban exploration. The world isn’t getting smaller; just more of it’s getting abandoned. It’s pleasant, freeing to bear this in mind. If anything, the world is getting bigger, and (because of the internet) easier to find.
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I never get bored of listening to boring music, so obviously I’m welcoming with open ears the appearance from out of nowhere of new UK netlabel, Phantom Channel. Their first release, sensibly enough, is a compilation called ‘Phantom Channel Presents - Part 1′, which has its very own page here and even a direct download link to a 105MB zip file of the whole album, plus the usual nick-naks, here. Don’t know whether any of the content is compulsory download-worthy; it hasn’t finished downloading yet. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know.

The consistently splendid 12rec.net describe the compilation as “full of strange noises and rather warm than digitally cold” - and isn’t that something that’s desperately needed not only in the current economic climate (boring) but also for the encroaching bitter summer months?

Do you find me attractive?

netlabel / ambient music / downloads / free / YES

Let’s investigate further this recent phenomenon of processed foodstuffs appearing outdoors as a result of apparently (super)natural processes.
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Crumpsall Park, 8:15am on April 6th 2008: Continue Reading »

Sorry for keeping you all in suspense. Well, a little. It’s just I’ve discovered there’s a world outside and that there’s parts of it I quite like. Below is something for you to decode in the meantime. It’s not hard. Come now.

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Now playing: vivcaro - erna
via FoxyTunes

It’s alright, is New York. There’s a couple of things wrong with it but generally it’s OK. For example, television news reporters are too small to show up on camera without the assistance of a battered suitcase. Lowering the camera a couple of inches is obviously out of the question, as is, say, the cameraman taking a few steps backwards; so there you have it: an odd mixture of slick professionalism and sham. This picture was taken in Time Square, by me, when I was in Time Square (I think it’s actually called TimeS Square but I prefer Time Square, and that’s what matters). I took it the first morning I was there, where just hours before someone had ridden past the army recruiting centre placed inexplicably on a traffic island right slap bang in the middle of Time Square, on a bike, and blown the bloody door off. Apparently it was some kind of anti-war protest, and nobody was hurt (essentially because nobody was there) so I’m really all in favour of that sort of thing. War is bad, and there’s no better way of saying so than blowing something up.
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As far as I’m aware, the only worthwhile or notable thing that bloke out of the Pogues has ever said is that when you have a haircut, you whole attitude towards life and everything changes. Something like that: he may well have been talking about shaving off your beard at the same time but let’s ignore that part, pisshead. Let’s concentrate on how much hair I took with me to America. The picture on the left, now famous in its own right, was taken not long before I crossed the Atlantic; the one on the right, not long after. Spot the difference. That’s right, great intellects, I’ve had a haircut. And that Irish bloke’s right: having a haircut really does change things, gives you perspective. It’s why cutting your hair after just having travelled thousands of miles is so rewarding. It’s like how until you’ve opened all the windows and played Ornette Coleman’s ‘Free Jazz’ as loud as you possibly can without being arrested, you haven’t really cleaned your house - until you’ve cut your hair, you haven’t really been on holiday.

So, let’s get some perspective, shall we?

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Now playing: periskop - 1209-200407-28478
via FoxyTunes

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be reviewing the last few weeks. The last few weeks are what are conventionally people call “an Experience”. Experience with a capital E. As opposed to ordinary, humdrum existence, with a small e; which is what, conventionally again, we have the rest of the time, when not having an Experience. To your left now you can see what I look like when having an Experience. Of course, this photograph is not at all spontaneous - at least the sixth in a series whose predecessors were deleted because I wasn’t satisfied with my appearance in them. VJ and I agreed that everybody does this when posting pictures of themselves online. If you don’t believe me, take a look at some of the pictures she’s posted of me, sunburned and bewildered. We’ll be hearing a good deal about VJ in due course. She’s a special lady, see. Anyway, this is just the sort of thing technology is for: making yourself look good. Don’t I look cute and approachable here? You can click on the thumbnail for a closer look. I was on a train at the time, a very comfortable train. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t get anywhere in America without a car. It’s not true. Parts of America have a good quality, efficient public transport system. Take that, stereotypes.
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I’m home.

For the time being, tell your own story…

Good morning. It’s 5:30am in cold cold Canada, and Ross is still asleep. How civilized. I’m awake because apparently transatlantic travel has given me magical powers over my own need for sleep, so I’ve just been outside and it’s snowing. This, too, is civilized. Continue Reading »

Hello. I’m in Canada. I have already taken many pictures so that I can prove it, but there’s no way of getting them off my camera and onto the internets in my present situation. Here are some facts about Canada to tide you over, which I have absorbed in less than 24 hours in the country. Amazing:

1. Ross lives underground. He calls his flat an “apartment”, but it’s actually a flat. It’s full of machines and fish. But as far as I can tell, no mechanical fish.
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‘Copia’ by Eluvium

I came across Eluvium through the mighty last.fm just yesterday morning when I should have been asleep but was in fact awake because I’d run out of music to fall asleep to.

Notice the rabbits on the cover fixated on some kind of deviant scarecrow. Presumably a reference to a film that doesn’t actually exist yet: Watership Down, directed by Tim Burton.
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Thanks to Mr Harris for pointing out that this new layout to my blog doesn’t work properly in Internet Explorer, where the sidebar hides all the way down at the bottom where it doesn’t belong. I have no intention of editing my template to compensate for this. So get firefox and make the problem disappear.

Go on.
GO ON.

You’ll have noticed unless you’re really, really thick - or reading my RSS feed because it’s more convenient given your fast-track 21st century lifestyle - that I have updated my template. I’ve decided to make things more efficient and filthier, and give a greater prominence to tags (look to your right) because I like tags. I’ve spent more time than anyone really should refining and modifying them, and even going back through my archives to find just the right tag for a post from three years ago I had completely forgotten about and no longer believe in, probably. You can still leave comments, just now the link as at the top of the post rather than the bottom, and I’ve also chosen to make my list of del.icio.us bookmarks really, really long. You might also be pleasantly surprised by how often things appear at the top of this on this list. Alternatively, you might not give a monkey’s. Click things, in either case.

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Now playing: Brian Eno & Harold Budd - Not Yet Remembered
via FoxyTunes

Today’s lesson is about the song, “Sit Down” by James, and how it’s the most uplifting pop song about despair ever written.

I’m sure you’ll have heard this song before, it’s just one of those songs everyone’s heard, but if somehow you haven’t, here’s a youtube:

OK. Codifying what exactly makes “the perfect pop song” is a generally abhorrent occupation but we’ve got to start somewhere and this is, after all, a lesson, so one of us is going to have to talk in code. And it might as well be me. I’m the teacher, pay attention. Continue Reading »

Ahem. Excuse me, I need to change my underwear. I’ve spent the last hour uploading screen caps of new Lost episodes to my side project blog, and I couldn’t contain myself. To understand why, click here.

Or this will happen:

The 17th century philosopher Gottfried Leibniz was, for our purposes, a smarmy little wretch with just the level of imagination you’d expect from a man who looked like this:

He’s famous (again, for our purposes, but also in fact) for precisely two things: first, being the only man of above-average intelligence in history to remain convinced throughout of his life that John Locke’s Essay Concerning Human Understanding was not only readable but actually worth reading - to the extent of writing a chapter-by-chapter refutation of said ‘essay’ and then refusing to publish it owing to the fact that just as he finished writing it, John Locke politely died, never to be refuted in person by his most prestigious peer; and secondly, for insisting, just as implausibly, that the world we live in is the best of all possible worlds.
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