I don't understand the clock on this. It appears to be wildly inaccurate. :: super 10:14:00 PM [+] ::
I got a bank statement which said 'you are a lonely bachelor from Leicester that seldom wanders far from home'. And do you know what? It was right. :: super 10:11:00 PM [+] ::
Congratulations to bonobo for finding such an unflattering picture of Janet Ellis. :: super 10:10:00 PM [+] ::
It's been a busy and stressful week. I got a bank statement which said 'spend no more, have no fun' which meant I was faced with having to call in debts :
(blah blah - Paragraph of pleasantries and general buttering up - blah blah)
Could you let me know when you can pay me the £37.50 for the Strokes tickets? Xmas and Paris has left me a touch in the red, so I'm having to call in me debts I'm afraid. If you can pay in the next fortnight, that's fine. Otherwise, let me know when you can pay so I know what I've got to play with.
(blah blah - Paragraph looking forward to seeing you next time, wishing you look and good health - blah blah)"
I thereby resolved to make best use of bandwidth in the time it's still free, by downloading an mpeg of The Strokes doing 'Last Nite' on MTV Europe (blinding, roll on Brixton Academy 29/3/2002) and DJ Z-Trip & DJ P's classic megamix "Uneasy Listening, Volume 1", which at 70 odd minutes and 105megs took some time (damn twatty 56k modems..). I have to say the latter is cocking amazing! I thought of Ted when it started, as a badass electro breakbeat floated through Glen Campbell's 'Rhinestone Cowboy' - a la 'The Peacock Manifesto', Looper's Stuart David's (ex-Belle & Sebastian) cracking novel which Ted sent back from NZ for us to read - before sashaying into some Wall era Floyd, then Madonna and other luminaries such as Midnight Oil and Metallica. Corker. :: Boney 8:46:00 PM [+] ::
:: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 ::
Bootleg mixes are more popular than ever. However, it must be said, most of them are average, requiring a bit of a leap of faith for them to work. An example of such a mismatch is "Smooth Window", featuring Michael Jackson and the Aphex Twin. However, when it's good, it's very good, as the following prove (right click, save as..) :
I would do a link but I don't know how, I'll leave that sort of thing to FUCKING INTERNET NERDS. (err - done, Pabs - Bonobo) :: super 10:54:00 PM [+] ::
When Coco Pops first came out, Coco monkey was not the irritating twat singing stupid songs at the fucking Jungle World Cup, oh no. He was more like a real monkey, a bit fat and dopey looking, and he didn't wear clothes either.
Coco Pops hit the shelves at the same time as Puffa Puffa Rice, also from Kelloggs, which was promoted by a big blue hippo that didn't wear clothes either, and another cereal featuring a gay looking frog in a hat and possibly a bomber jacket. I cannot remember the names of the latter cereal, nor the hippo or frog, but needless to say, both have been consigned to dustbin of cereal history. :: super 10:51:00 PM [+] ::
Viewers of Jigsaw may wish to banish the unsettling memory of Mr Noseybonk by thinking of presenter Janet Ellis' huge breasts. :: super 10:42:00 PM [+] ::
I never liked Sugar Puffs, was more of a Coco Pops man. Any youngsters reading won't remember that before he started wearing a baseball cap the wrong way round and hanging around with Kevin Keegan, the Honey Monster used to be a lot more frightening. Almost as frightening was Mr Nosey Bonk off Jigsaw. He wore a black suit and a scary white mask and didn't speak. He used to hang around in a park, bothering people, which you wouldn't get away with these days. :: super 10:40:00 PM [+] ::
:: Tuesday, January 22, 2002 ::
Way Cleared For Glastonbury. Local Police have no objections to Glastonbury 2002, it now just remains to see if Mendip District Council grant the licence on Thursday. Michael Eavis, the festival organiser, has written an open letter to try and dissuade people from fence jumping, saying that 'we have to keep the numbers within limits that can be shown to be safe. And this is the last chance we have to succeed. If we fail, we will, understandably, be denied our licence in future...'. A lot of fence jumpers in the past, myself included, have felt that Eavis didn't really mind, he felt imposed on by the restrictive licence and therefore it was 'okay' to fence jump, as between 30000 and 100000 extra did in 2000. Obviously, now it is clear how severely this threatens the festival's future, that view point doesn't really hold water anymore. :: Boney 7:49:00 AM [+] ::
:: Monday, January 21, 2002 ::
Nothing surprises me anymore which is a fucking shame when you think about it. :: super 8:57:00 PM [+] ::
Boredom this evening led me to rediscover the joys of homemade pop videos based on misheard lyrics. Here are two of my faves, both courtesy of Joel Veitch. Enjoy visual reinterpretations of works by The Beatles, and Destiny's Child. :: Boney 8:16:00 PM [+] ::
Well, it's a mere four weeks until Boards Of Canada's new long playing disk 'Geogaddi' hits the shops. There's scant access to album tracks, apart from an untitled vinyl sampler, of which I've downloaded one track, a rather dense hypnotic mid-tempo number (quelle surprise) which stretches to 9 minutes in length. My immediate feeling was 'underwhelmed', but as always, after a few listens the surprise of hearing pan-pipes diminished and the track eased nicely into the old cranium. I have to say it was a little different from what I expected, more from the fudgeyness of the track, which has a fair old bit of distortion muddying it up. Overall though, a nice appetite whetter. :: Boney 7:28:00 PM [+] ::
“Oh what a greasy tower he there massaged!. . .His right hand beneath the steering wheel, urging, urging, he seemed to be pulling himself into the far black harbour like a reflexive stevedore. . .F's eyes closed suddenly as if they had been squirted with lemon. . .I feared for the organ, feared and coveted it, so hard it gleamed, streamlined as a Brancusi, the swelled head red and hot as a radioactive fireman's helmet. . .Kamikaze insects splashed against the glass. . .Thus we existed in some eye for a second: two men in a hurtling steel shell aimed at Ottawa, blinded by a mechanical mounting ecstasy, the old Indian land sunk in soot behind us, two swelling pricks pointing at eternity, two naked capsules filled with lonely tear gas to stop the riot in our brains. . ."
Went to see Ghost World at the Phoenix tonight. It was absolutely rammed, probably due to the fact it was the first showing of the movie in Leicestershire (shame on you Odeon). I went on my own, and sat on the back row by myself in my regular seat. This isolationism inadvertently may have helped in my appreciation of the movie ;o). (NB: Possible spoilers).
Ghost World is essentially the story of three people. The central friendship is between Enid and Rebecca, two graduates who both leave college with plans for getting an apartment and so on. Rebecca proves more pragmatic than the highly cynical Enid, who in accordance with her non-conformist attitudes and tastes (the movie opens with her dancing to a Mohammed Rafi song from 60's Indian musical Gumnaam - hardly 'American Pie'-esque teen cliché) has difficulty toeing the line and keeping a job to enable her to fulfil the apartment plan. In the meantime, a practical joke played on anal record collector Seymour backfires, as the blind date they set up leaves them watching him sipping milkshakes alone all afternoon. Enid develops an obsession with Seymour, wanting to help him break out of his lonely, obsessed, sad life. Enjoying the happiness and direction she brings to Seymour's life, she never really realises that she is effectively treating him how she wishes she were treated. Seymour later seems to have found love with Dana (with a little push from Enid, of course). Rebecca feels cast out in favour of Seymour, whilst Enid is still jobless, trapped at home with her father and his despised companion.
The heart of the movie lies in a couple of beautiful metaphorical ideas. One of which recurs several times. An old man, you imagine a widower, sits waiting for a bus. Enid tells him there isn't a bus anymore. He doesn't believe her. When Enid's life is falling apart, she sees the old man and feels comfort. He is dependable, a constant she can rely on. He aspires to leave the life he is trapped in, but lacks the vehicle to escape. Enid lacks direction and means to escape her malaise; an art scholarship is retracted after a press controversy over a 'racist' piece of 'found art' she presents to her class, she is left with no choice but to accept a job obtained through the clout of her despised 'step-mother''. Her emotional life...well, let's not even go there. Like, totally not go there..
Thora Birch plays Enid with great depth, whilst Steve Buscemi is outstanding as Seymour. You could argue it's a typical Buscemi role (endearing loser), but he really is perfect for the role. Illeana Douglas is fantastic as the kooky art teacher, and Dave Sheridan provides light relief as Doug, a mullet-headed martial arts metal freak. The story is handled with subtlety and is touching throughout. The ending however, is bleak. Having inadvertently shaken up Seymour's life and alienated herself from Rebecca, Enid finds herself in the same situation as the old man on the bench. It's testimony to the filmmakers that I didn't cry during the movie, but on the way home whilst I was thinking back about it. I suppose I can relate to the Enid and Seymour characters, since essentially they have a hell of a lot in common - in fact Seymour often responds to Enid's interjections that he would 'probably have thought that at her age'. Enid's plight struck a real chord though. Stranded without direction at a crossroads in life without a map....
Poor old Adam Ant. It doesn't take a lot to get sectioned these days - who can stick their hand up and honestly say they've never donned a cowboy hat and pointed a firearm at the staff of a members only club - I know I can't.
Avid Vorderman watchers will have noticed Carol sporting some lovely new hairstyles of late, including a tasty straight/shoulder length number that reminds me of how she originally looked on Countdown all those years ago when she first caught my roving eye. Also look out for the slightly wavy one - Carol's been playing with the curling tongs again (Braun probably) - that she prefers for special occasions like award ceremonies and church fetes. :: super 10:30:00 PM [+] ::
A very good article in the Guardian today, which helped to bring me up to date with the spectacular collapse of Enron, the biggest corporate bankruptcy in American history.
"Enron's links reached deepest inside the Bush administration, packed with former Enron officials, major Enron shareholders and large-scale recipients of Enron campaign funding. President Bush himself received $826,000 from the Texan company in the eight years since he first ran for governor of that state".
The true pit of dirt and corruption that is American politics and big business rears its ugly head again. The extent of Enron's donations is shown (rather snazzily) in this little flash doo-dah. :: Boney 9:14:00 PM [+] ::
"By the mid-1990s, he was almost forgotten. At that point, still in LA, he was coping with the attentions of a tenacious stalker who claimed she was his wife. She allegedly poisoned his koi carp, threw razorblade-laced meat to his dogs, and spray-painted a friend's car. It was then, in 1994, he had his first brush with clinical depression.
"She got three months' jail, but she turned up straight after she got out, this time with her brother, who was an LA gangbanger. The situation drove me round the twist." His abruptly shoves away his plate and lights a cigarette. "I ended up in Cedars Sinai hospital for six weeks. They diagnosed me with depression and had me on Prozac, which just numbs you."
Last year, now back in London, he relapsed. He denies that "losing his fame" set it off, blaming instead the pressures of first-time fatherhood - daughter Lily will be four in March - and marital problems. "What with having a new baby and watching my marriage dissolve and not knowing where I'd get the dough to enjoy time with the baby, I felt like I was going to snuff it. I literally couldn't move. And after 21 years in the music business, the record company couldn't give a fuck and dropped me. I have two very wonderful psychologists, and they very kindly took me in [to hospital] for a few weeks".
You have a very simple view of life, and it takes a lot of convincing to get you to break your routine. You seem to overreact over petty things, and your one track mind keeps you from focusing in on your main problem: the fact that you never let go of the past. You're too busy thinking about what used to be that you don't notice the wonderful things you have right in front of you. You fail to appreciate your interesting adventures because of the broken record playing in your head: "I'm not even supposed to be here today!"
"The most explosive charge ... is that the Bush administration -- the present one, just shortly after assuming office slowed down FBI investigations of al Qaeda and terrorism in Afghanistan in order to do a deal with the Taliban on ... an oil pipeline across Afghanistan.".
That charge is supported by this BBC News story at the time, although there is some talk of meetings as late as mid-2001.
"...the FBI's deputy director, John O'Neill, actually resigned because he felt the U.S. administration was obstructing... the prosecution of terrorism."
"We have to be careful here. These are allegations. They're worth airing and talking about, because of their gravity. We don't know if they are correct. But ... they should be investigated, because Central Asian oil ... is potentially so important. And all prior attempts to have a pipeline had to be done through Russia. It had to be negotiated with Russia. Now, if there is to be a pipeline through Afghanistan, obviating the need to deal with Russia, it would also cost less than half of what a pipeline through Russia would cost. So financially and politically, there's a big prize to be had. A pipeline through Afghanistan down to the Pakistan coast would bring out that Central Asian oil easier and more cheaply".
(Part of a transcribed interview between CNN anchor Paula Zahn and Former U.N. Weapons Inspector Richard Butler) (via Metafilter).
For reasons unclear the mighty Bonobo has invited me to contribute to this here webshite. If he was worried about the quality of postings then this step is unlikely to address this problem, but if he wanted intelligent contributions then he would have invited Carol Vorderman, who probably wouldn't swear as much either.
On the subject of Star Wars, those blokes who have started queueing for tickets obviously haven't seen The Phantom Menace, and if they have they must have chocolate coins for eyes, whelks for ears and a Victoria sponge for a brain, for it is the steamiest poo of a film ever. More entertaining motion pictures have come out of a poodle's arse end. Barry Norman's words, not mine.
Yes it is my birthday on Wednesday, but more importantly also Jimmy Page's, so why it isn't a national holiday is anyone's guess. Lobby your local MP.
Anyway, must dash, for I am skiving off work with a bad back and frankly this is making it worse.
Before I do this post I'd like to assert that I don't have an alcohol problem. You see, I'm giving up alcohol for 4 weeks. This in itself doesn't sound like a major feat, but I tried this a few years ago and only managed a fortnight, and that was hard work. My motivations are mainly i) fiscal and ii) belly-related, although iii) clarity of mind was also a memorable highlight of the previous abstainence. My girlfriend is also joining me in this quest for purity, which is helpful. Unlike the week ahead, which includes meeting a mate in a pub (Monday), going to see a mates band in a pub (Tuesday), and going to young Pablo's Birthday curry doings (Friday). Thankfully Saturday evening will be spent babysitting two one year old twins, which you'd hope would not involve alcohol in anyway (weeell...ok, a little gin if the bastedz don't wanna sleep...). Wish me luck, kids.......booze is evil! (etc) :: Boney 2:01:00 AM [+] ::
Wha-hey! First shit personality test of the year (via Parallax View) :
"Seattle Star Wars Society member's Jeff Tweiten & John Guth have become the first in the world to begin waiting for Star Wars Episode II - Attack of the Clones. Jeff began his wait on January 1, 2002, and was soon joined by SSWS President John Guth. They will wait at the Cinerama theatre for nearly four and a half months until the release of Episode II on May 16th".
"This project also explores the issue of the pursuit of happiness. It asks how much will a person sacrifice for a temporary acquisition, and questions whether a person can be happy with just food and shelter in pursuit of that acquisition. It also asks, will society as a whole fear or accept people for not desiring the things they desire, or for desiring things they consider frivilous or ridiculous. Finally, as we move into the next millennium, I wonder if our fast-paced society has become unwilling to slow down and wait for the things that bring us the greatest joy. This wait will test my mettle as I attempt to do just that". :: Boney 7:19:00 PM [+] ::