hello all. Sorry, ive neglected you. And missed you.

I got back earlier.time to unpack. Will blog when i have a spare micron of time, ok? *nubs*

hello all. Sorry, ive neglected you. And missed you.

I got back earlier.time to unpack. Will blog when i have a spare micron of time, ok? *nubs*

Well, A day unlike any other. Since my friend bought me a travel pass to get around London whilst I am down here, I decided to treat this as a bit of a holiday. My first real holiday since 1997, of any sort, really.

In fact, it’s the first time I’ve spent more than 5 days away from home since 1997, and November 1997 was an experience I didn’t really enjoy. I say didn’t really enjoy, but more bullied into.; I was living with a girl called C, and she decided to treat her niece and her mother to go to Eurodisney. Five fucking days trapped in an amusement park. If there was ahell, it’d be like Eurodisney.( Except it wouldnt be playing ‘it’s a small world afterall’ on continous loop whilst strange french people in tigger suits scratch their arses whilst no one is looking.)

Great. Trapped in a theme park, like Beverly Hills Cop III. Or a transplanted version of Dawn of the Dead.Mind you, only the zombies were missing. Hell, some zombies would have at least have numbed the interminable boredom – the whole prospect of runnign around the themepark with a chainsaw in hand fighting off the undead would have at least made it more interesting. Though probably a bit scary ofor a ten year old kid.

We only once managed to escape the confines of the theme park, mainly at my insistence, and we got to go to Paris.

We walked round, saw the sights, starting at the Arc De Triomphe, then walking down to the Eiffel tower. We didn’t know the exact way there – we stood at the arc de triomphe, noticed a main road went straight there, and then I almost got killed trying to cross the road at a tunnel. The drivers honked their horns at me like I was some sort of crazy person. Give up. Walk to the top and decide to cross at the bridge., Get up to the bridge, lots of flowers and stuff at the top.

Bear in mind , its November 1997. I’m by a tunnel in Paris. See where this is headed? Yep, it’s the same tunnel where a certain person had a luxury car / concrete / Paparazzi interface at high speed. How morbid, but completely unforgettable.

The fact we choose November 11th – national armistice day and a national holiday – doesn’t help when it comes to finding a ridiculously long queue to get up to the top of the Eiffel Tower when we finally get there. And yes, I walked between the first and second tier, because, like everest, it was there.And I was shocked, stunned and even amazed to see it outside the context of watching it in Hollywood movies like Superman II or the bond movie A View To A Kill.Still, I was most disappointed not see Superman come flying up the middle and shoot up the elevator up into outerspace before the terrorist planted nuclear bomb does an airburst and go boom.

I was especially disappointed to discover that in fact, the bond movie totally lied to me. You see, in the movie, there’s an informer who is killed by fly fishing (yes, fly fishing. I don’t mean having the JR Hartley book from those old yellow pages adverts being thrown at them). Could I find that bloody restaurant up there? Could I fuck. All there was was a ridicolously expensive sandwich shop , a place that sold tacky jewellery and tourist souvenirs, mainly in the shape of keyrings and neck chains, all with the Eiffel tower emblazoned on them, like people were suddenly going to forget what it looked like, being wiped out of the entire existence of the humanity with some fucking eraser or something.

This is the first time I’ve spent any time away from home since those days. It’s like a holiday; different city, different sights, places I’ve never been before. It’s liberating to wake up in the morning and do something simply because you can. Get on the first train that comes, see where it takes me , end up somewhere not knowing where I am gonna be. Be spontaneous, for a fucking change.

That’s why at 6pm last night, I was walking around Asda in the Isle of Dogs. This is after visiting Croydon – though I don’t know why, because it’s a dump, but at least I know it is a dump now… and then greenwich. Why? Because it was there I suppose. But the Cutty Sark doesn’t half scare the shit out of you in the dark. And the Docklands Light Railway is a wonderfully futuristic piece of engineering, cutting right into the redevloped docklands. And its got the most bizarre Stations ever – West India Quay and Canary Wharf are, themselves, less than 80 yards apart. Which is fucking stupid, if you ask me…but anyway, I got off and walked around Canary Wharf.

Have you ever felt like a tourist in your own country?

Christ, it was like something in a movie. All sleek skyscrapers, birhgtly lit buildings, and spacious highrises. Britains tallest building, lit up in front of me, with its flashing irradiscent light at the top designed to stop aircraft itting it by accident, flashing away in the middle of a misty fog. Eerie. I was trying to work out if it was an artifical fog, or just that sort of weird paranormal, Raiders of the Lost Ark thing going on.

I expected to turn around and see a bright blue police car with ‘Chicago PD’ on the side, Blues Brothers style. The whole feel of the place was like somewhere in a Hollywood movie. I felt like I’d just wandered into a goddamn film set, and any section some swat bands were gonna turn up and ‘secure the perimeter’, or I was going to be set on by a not-entirely benevolent robotic army or be overrun by an army of zombies in helicopters , Resident Evil II style.

I’ve never experienced anything like it. Here, I am, in Britains tallest building, the most monied 100 square metres in England and it’s enlightening. Around me, men in suits and ties, powerdressing women, and every single one of them white. And walking around, are secruity staff, dressed in blazers with ‘Canary Wharf’ embroidered on them, whilst widescreen TV’s scream out the bloomberg channel feeding us the latest share prices.

And every single one of these faces in the service industry, is black.

Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think they chose the Bloomberg channel somehow. I don’t have the secruity staff out for being movers and shakers in the financial world.


what do I find? They’ve turned the basement into a shopping centre, of course. With a captive audience of monied, well heeled, workers in their tens of thousands commuting in every day, with platinum credit cards and high disposable incomes, with hundreds of floors of office workers all trapped on the Isle of Dogs like maze rabbits….. there’s a commercial interest, obviosuly. And they need to buy the stuff from HMV and Game. It says a lot really, that beneaths Britains biggest oiffice building they can buy themselves the latest GTA game. Funny what you notice. Like the fact that at every other station on the Docklands Light Railway the fine for travelling without a ticket is £10, and at Canary Wharf? It’s only £5. Half price if you are rich eh?

Then someone thrusts a flyer for cheap paintballing in my hand. They must have mistaken me for one of those city types for whom eviscerating the sea’s of corporate piracy isn’t enough, and they have to go and actually pretend to kill people in mock warfare instead….

Funny what you notice isn’t it eh? Like the fact that right now, Elvis is eating paper, because he’s quite definitely insane. I’m watching Spaced, watchign Elvis do binkieis and run around the living room like a loon, and then sit in his litter tray and eat shredded newspaper which is being used as padding. Fucking mad rabbit, but I love him dearly.


oh, by the way, todays surreal experience involves confirming that yes, they do do things larger in the US. RIght now I'm nestling a 355ml can of Coca-Cola (or Coca-Cola Classic, which is something I've never seen before; mind you, neither is the words 'ORIGINAL TASTE' neither. Yep, this is an imported Canadian can of coke, courtesy of a newsagents in Greenwich. I might hang onto it because of its sheer novelty.

On a different note, I resolved a while ago to do a teacher training course. I did not start one, and in the end decided not to do so. I didn’t explain it properly at the time, so please let me do so now.

It’s got a lot to do with the Labour government education policy. The labour government aim to have 50% of school leavers at A-Level, 18, in higher education, gaining degrees.According, they will come out of the other end with a degree and a higher level of skills.

What this does is have three major effects -
i)firstly, a higher qualified workforce; useful in a way as there is no need for unskilled works in primary industry in england anymore. However, we still need people to pump petrol, work in gas stations and serve in Starbucks. Maybe then we can put there skills to good use, they can debate descartes and postmodernism in amongst that.

ii)Secondly, it removes them from the labour market for 3-4 years. This is significant for two reasons – firstly, the level of unemployed school leavers is reduced because they aren’t going from the college to the dole queue. Therfore, unemployment goes down, which is good for the economy. Essentially though, this is just buying time.

iii)Leave’s the students very heavily indebted.

In the next couple of years, tutition fees are expected to rise, to approximately £3,000 a year. Say you’re doing a three year course, that’s £9,000 in debt straight off.As a result of rising tuition fees and the cost of funding ones self through university, it is expected - according to todays Independent – that half the universities and colleges will close, starting in roughly 2006. Huge amounts of staff, lecturers and teachers and especially, support staff like teachers and so forth, will lose their jobs as the collegs close down.

Is this part of the great labour plan to revitalise the economy? By flooding the jobcentres and leading to mass job losses in the education sector? And where will these teachers go?

Well, most teachers exist on a ongoing contractbasis – renewed annually or so depending on what happens, results and so forth. As teachers swamp the market as colleges close down, supply will outstrip demand. There will be a glut as every teaching post will become massively oversubscribed, and teachers at degree level will end up doing secondary level teaching. Quite simply, this is the genius plan to eviscerate the education sector by Labour. They just simply assumed that students will carry on building up their debt regardless and keep the ball rolling. They have no idea of the long term consequences. And you’re pricing it out of evgeryone but those who can afford it, leading to mass unemployment. Fucking great one, Tony.


Education, Education, Education, mr. Blair.

I hate to quote Kingmaker B-Sides, but Everything's Changed since I've been to London . . . . . . . .

Nytol.

Well, its Wednesday. Or is it Tuesday? Sometimes I can’t remember. The days roll into one. There’s no routine to differentiate between the weekend, and week day. Hell, if I was in a basement apartment I would have no way of knowing day from night and that would be weird. I feel so isolated and lonely, even more so than normal.

I was awoken at 10am this morning by a cat sitting on my chest. I think maeve was trying to be fed. It worked, coz she wouldn’t leave me alone until she was fed. And then she left me alone for hours, until I had food, at which point she resurfaced and wouldn’t leave me alone, until she was fed. Or more accurately, could not be fed because I’d scoffed all the chocolate for myself.

Anywaym, I am off to bed in a bit – I’m tired and disorientated. And watching movies. Right now, the US cut of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining . Which is very very good. By no means a work of genius – it’s a little too show don’t tell in places (actual rivers of blood, men in pig masks etc. being presented as reality) and could have benefited from some restraint in places – the actual horror elements could have been toned down to make it appear like the hotel did its work by Haunting his mind and causing hallucinations, making him crazy, Which it does anyway. But instead Kubrick resorts to showing that the Hotel has physical manifestions, which singlehandly reduces the impact of the film by making it almost a conventional ghost story. (However, the fact is, the Hotel needs to be able to manifest itself physically because otherwise, Jack Torrace cannot escape when locked in, so maybe that is the only reason why Kubrick shows it, to validate the escape sequence. Nonetheless, these excessive proven physcial manifestations which just don’t sit well with the rest of the film at all. Up until that point, it could just be madness caused by isolation, but if nothing else, it confirms that the haunting is real. Still, I expect my bro to comment on this in great depth, coz the Shining is one of his fave films of all time.However was watching this earlier, and noticed something.

The US region (1999, cat 17369) 1 features the US edit (144 mins) and the making of documentary. The documentary runs slightly longer on the US region 1 than the UK version, totalling 34m 44s. On the main menu, the commentary option does not appear on for the documentary and there is only 1 audio track for the documentary - the original audio only. The US DVD definitely does NOT include the Vivian Kubrick commentary.

The UK Region 2 (cat no. on side Z1 21156) features the is the UK edited version at 115 mins. The documentary is also an edited version of 33m 34s (shortened by from the US version which runs 1m 10s longert). However, the UK DVD does feature the commentary , as confirmed on the menu screen and also from the number of audio channels.What appears to be missing is the section where Jack Nicholson and Stanley Kubrick explain the significance of using different coloured pages of the script and a subsequent meet n greet, at about 15 minutes in.

Incidentally, the so called ‘directors cut’ of the Chronicles of Riddick features alternate takes and so forth,. Look here for info….

But essentially, the Directors Cut includes two extra featurettes, a commentary and so called ‘deleted scenes’, so probably should be considered as far better value for money, but the true fan probably needs both. I’m not that bothered, but only because I cant watch multiregion DVD’s and there’s no plan to issue the directors cut in the UK.

So aside from watching the documentary and the DVD of ‘Postcards from the future’ – a documentary about Chuck Palahuniuk – I am watching the extra’s on the double DVD of Troy . Interesting, if only to see how they decided to change the film from the trailer because there were too many ships in the ocean and it looked silly.

But I was watching Being There last night and reminded of something. The lead character is Chauncey Gariner, a man who lived a secluded life as a gardener. His only knowledge of the outside world is from watching hours and hours of Television, nothing more. He never once left the house he lived hin, until the old man who kept him in his employ dies.And then he has to go, he has nowhere to go, but becomes, by chance, a man of influence and power. But he is just a simple, naïve man who understands the world in a simple, uncomplex, reductive way.

In many ways, he does not understand the complex, the difficult world. He sees it in the only way he can understand, by reducing the world into a simple black and white equation. The world view works for him, and that’s all it needs to do. In his naiveity, it need not always be ther truth, it need not be wright, it jusrt needs to be right for him. He is bullied and buffeted by forces around him, outside him, manipulating him, while deep down inside is a man of pure simplicity and naivity, at an emotional level no hiugher than that of a child, oblivious of consequences. By the end of the film, he is being groomed for President by the industrial, corporate heads of the America.

And I was reminded of Geroge W Bush. A simple man, with a black and white world view, little understanding of the realworld, in a position of incredible power for which he will never need to have any personal responsibility.

Our world is being run by Chauncey Gardiner, and no one knows it. I can’t recommend Being There, enough. Its 25 year sold, and still amazingly relavent.

I am watching the Fog Of War . Fascinating, and truly horrifying. A documentary featuring the ruminations of the man who was Secretary of Defense during the Vietnam War.….Robert Strange MacNamara. Yes, Strange was his real middle name.

And his nemesis, General Lemay. The film starting with coverage of the Cuban crisis, and goes up now. going back to Responsible for the massive fire bombing campaigns of Tokyo, killing 50-90% of the population of 67 major Japan cities, after a dry run at Dresden the year before where 100,00 people died.And it was only that firebombing campaign that that they dropped atom bombs.

It makes chilling reading.For Early 1945:

Tokyo - 51% destoryed
Yokohama - 58% destroyed
Toyama - 99% destroyed, in a town the size of Chattanooga
Nagoya -40% destroyed, in a town the size of Los Angeles
Osaka - 35.1% destroyed, in a town the size of Chicago
Nishin - 11.9% destroyed, in a town the size of Cambridge
Shimonseki - 37.6% destroyed, in a town the size of San Diego
Kure, 41.9% destroyed, in a town the size of Toledo
Kobe, 55.7% destroyed, in a town the size of Baltimore
Omuta - 35.9% destroyed, a town the size of Miami
Wakayama 50% destroyed, in a town the size of- Salt Lake City
Kawasaki 36.2% destroyed in a town the size of Portland
Okayama 58.9% destroyed…

As McNamara said, (General Lemay said),“if he’d lost the war, we’d all have been prosecuted as war criminals”. And I’d say he was right. He and I were behaving as war criminals. What makes it immoral if you lose and not immoral if you win?”

Too true. And the film is full of useful statistics: Like that in the majority of car accidents in the 1950’s the majority of fatalies were caused by the drivers being implaed on steering wheels, and of passengers iinjured by hitting the windsheel, header bar or instrument panel. In 1956 Ford changed the designs, introduced seatbeats. They reckoned they could save 20,000 lives a year.

And everyone was opposed to it. Everyone was opposed to saving lives, because it would have cut into profits. Things haven’t changed.

The Fog of War is as fascinating as any film, I’ve seen in a long time:- up there with the little seen Iraq Uncovered…. Little nuggest such as the story of Norman R. Morrison, A quaker. Who, in protest to the vietnam in 1964, set himself afire beneath the office of the secrtary of defense. His widowed wife said, quite rightly, afterwards, the following as tribute:- “Human Beings must stop killing other human beings”. How true.

As for McNamara, he was offered the position as president of Ford motors, and he quit after five weeks. Because he was offered the position as secretary of the tresury,. And if he refused, President John F Kennedy would offer him the position of secretary of defense. Looks like he got headhunted by the president….

According to the film, the eleven lessons are as follows:-
Lesson#1: empathise with your enemy.
Lesson#2: Rationality will not save us.
Lesson#3: There’s something beyond one’s self.
Lesson#4: Maximise Effiency
Lesson#5: Proportionatly should be a guideline to the war
Lesson#6: get the Data
Lesson#7: Belief and seeing are both often wrong.
Lesson#8: Be prepared to rexamine your reasoning.
Lesson#9: In order to do good, you may have to engage in evil.
Lesson #10: Never say never
Lesson #11: You cant change human nature.

For a start, this film blows apart the entire rationale for the Vietnam war, revealing that the incident in question used to justify it was in fact, a complete fuck up where the over-excitable radar operators began to believe that they were under attack from phantom submarines. August 4th 1965 - USS Maddox attacked by an North Vietnamese boat., and the Tonkin Gulf resolution gave them carte blanche to wage war on basis of paranoia, and lies. As McNamara says now, that the judgement that they had been attacked on that day was wrong – Johnson used it to justify carpet bombing of North Vietnam, in operation Rolling Thunder. By the end of Vietnam, 2-3 times the amount of bombs dropped in Western Europe in the entire of World War II..

“America wins the wars she undertakes, make no mistakes about it. And we have declared war on tyranny and aggression. If this little nation goes down the drain and cant maintain its independece, ask yourself what will be happening to all the other little nations.”

Ask yourself …which America president is this? Sound familiar? Is it Bush in 2004? Sounds like it.

No, Lyndon Johnson during Vietnam. A war which featured Operation Resolve to Win. The same jingoistic attitude that infects our American President and cabinet today…and it will end the same way. With a lot of dead bodies, and nothing gained.

Insane.Later on maybe I’ll stick on Shaun Of the Dead or the Butterfly Effect or something.

BY the way, I get the impression that there’s an IMAX screening of the Lord Of The Rings trilogy in London. Though I have no great desire to watch LOTR again…I got all the DVD’s (ie all the 2 discers and both the 4 discers so far), so I guess never reading the books (still!) has diminished my enthusiasm. Alas, until they do LOTR with X-wings and Lightsabers, I don’t see me changing my mind…

Todays movies list:
- The Shining US version
- The Shining (making off)
- Troy (making of footage)
- The Fog of War
- Edge of Darkness (TV series, 6 one hour episodes)


Also, I’d like to thank the Local Londis newsagents too. Why? For trying to rip me off. Aside from doing a loaf of photocopies last night, where I lost the Master CDR sleeve I’ve been using over the past two years, and I aint got a clue where it is. Not just that, but when I went back today I went to do a hundred more copies. When I go to pay, I pay for the loaf of bread with a £10 note, and yet he only gives me change froim £5. Which makes the load of bread £5.55? Ich don’t think so. And I think even less of him for trying to bolster his own pocket by fucking me over for £5?But he gives me the £5 back once I point out his own mistake. He wouldn’t have done it if I hadnt pointed it.

Mind you, if he hadn’t tried to fuck me over for that £5, I would have pointed out to him that he hadn’t charged me for the photocopies. And after his attempt at dishonesty, should I reward that by offering a dishonest man my money? I don’t think so. And because of his dishonesty, I repaid it in kind. He tired to make me lose out, and the net result was that he himself lost out. Where I come from, we call that karma.

*looks at clock, and despairs at insomnia*

Time to blog, I think.

It has been a long time since I slept, again.15 hours asleep, 36 hours awake, I believe at last count.

Yesterday I was awoken at midday by a cat called maeve. Maeve sat on me, sat on my chest while I slept, and awoke me. I believe she was comfortable sitting on my chest ….damn sight more comfortable than I was, at any rate.

I bate and let in Elvis from his hutch. I tend chased him around the livin room for a few minutes and went out. Where did I go? Surbiton. I decided I’d travel somewhere,m at random, with no plan or design. Freed from the constraints, I got on the the first train, no matter where it took me, and wherever I went, there I was. Vaunxhall. Clapham Junction. And a multitude of other places. Train hopping, travelling places simply because , like Everest, they were there. Because I had never seen them before, because I could..

A very oddly liberating feeling. A feeling of freedom. Eventually I came back, because it was dark and there was no way of seeing these places in darkness, no matter how fascinating.

So I did what most people do, I went home and watched TV. Not before getting lost on a shortcut from Kingston to the flat where I am staying. Not really knowing my way around, I made a complete cockup of it all and ended up the otherside of surbiton railway line, miles out of the way, walking past abandoned pubs and unfamiliar places. I eventually stumbled across part of a bus route I had been on earlier in the evening, which looking vaguely familiar, made me realise that in fact my straight line shortcut had been a massive 2 mile round horseshoe.

Well, That’ll teach me to be clever.

Having retreated home, I did what we all do. Switch on the TV and retreat behind our doors; not so much keeping the outside world in as keeping ourselves locked away. And switch the computer on and organise and plan an endless stream of tasks. Presumably the same string of tasks that would keep anyonw busy. As someone once said, so many tasks….

I instead watched a lot of DVD’s. In no particular order:-

- Final Destination (hugely underrated and a reinvention of the teen horro movie, only , like good)

- Final Destination 2 (good, inventive, but essentially a remake of the first)

- Lots and lots of the Simpsons

- Starship Troopers 2 + DVD extra’s

- The Clash documentary Westway to the World DVD extra’s that is the ‘On broadway’ short film and 45 minutes of interviews.

- 7 episodes (or translation - a third of the first and only season) of the original Battlestar galactica. It’s not as good as I remember it, and nowehere near as bad as I feared. Still, I was feeling nostalgic.

- And last of all, I decided to treat myself to a film I’ve heard only good things about, and had never seen. #240 on the imdb list – Being There, being Peter Sellers last ever role. Kind of like Forrest Gump for people with brains; and a film from a different era. There’s not a single shot in the film under 2 seconds, no colour desaturation or CGI, and as such it’s absolutely unlike any other film I’ve seen anew this year. What it’s down to is a brilliant script that works on mulitple levels, intelligent satire and observation, and most importantly, a completely believeable performanct by Peter Sellers in a serious role as Chauncey Gardiner, the idiot savant mistaken for a political genius who speaks in platitudes and reduces the world to a simplistic worldview because that’s what he’s learned about the world on television., caused by a lifestyle of complete and splendid isolation whereby he never had any reason to leave his house or ever step out of the front door. Absolute bloody genius, and a gentle and intelligent piece of fiulm making the likes of which I fear is gone forever. Especially since the likes of Kubrick is now long gone, and director Hal Ashby apparently never even got paid for Being There because of the unconventional, thought provoking and metaphysical ending. After all, life is just a state of mind. And there’s so much left undone.

It’s perhaps only by comparing this to the other film I had never seen before that I watched today that We can track the complete decline of modern cinema. Laides and Gentlemen, Starship Troopers 2.
-
Overall, its got some good production design, good fx, good visuals, and shows a lot of potential but no script, characterisation and just an absurd amount of ludicrously over the top CGI gore – despite a lot of visual flair from debut director Phil Tippet, it’s at heart not so much a B-movie as a Z-movie with a monster transplanted from an exisitng gazillion budgeted sci-fi franchise for no simp-le reason except that , well, they could. And then bunged it out with a budget of 50p and Z-list actors. Think taking the script from Tremors 3 and turning it into an Exorcist movie, and you might get an idea of how tepid this can be. God, this makes Jeepers Creepers 2 (which is surprisingly good, overall) seem like Raging Bull, overall.

Add in Cheap Shoddy gun effects that seem to be from Dr. Who that don’t help either. Unfortunately, even Alien vs. Predator was better, and that can only be blamed on two things: Paul W.S. Anderson is a far more experienced director, but only in so far as he knows what to do by repetitive practice rather than talent and secondly, they gave him suffcient money to giv this film some scope. By contrast, Starship Troopers 2 shows a lot of potential but is squandered by a lack of budget and most destructively, a complete lack of any intelligence in the script. The initial idea appaears to be remake Alien3 by taking all the good bits out and replacing them with the generic Army cliches of 1983 war/hoorror movie The Keep and the gungo-ho macho marine elemnt of Aliens; ie guns, guns , guns and occasionally, some guns. With a slight bit of vasriety with knives, microwaves and metal pipes.

Mostly it comprises of porting in an existing franchise into a generic interchangable bughunt movie and this is quite a nasty and in many ways Z-rate irredeemable film which can only be blamed on Edward Neumeirs rubbish script. It’s obviously the work of a first tiem director which minimal experience fuelled more by enthusiasm than capability, mainly financial. The film was wirtten to fit a cheap budget and it shows. And suffers.

Give me being here anyday. And talking of that, I should be in bed. Night night.

p.s. this parcel contains dangeously high levels of very cotton syle pollution. This translates as…the PWEI NATION shirts have been delivered.

Good god, I needed that. ummm, sleep. Oh god, sleep was good.

I slept like a baby.Not in that 'I wake up every two hours, screaming' sense of the word that Colin Powell does, but in the sense that sleep was complete, thorough and perfect. And to top it all off, I'm listening to 'Black love' by the Afghan Whigs, which is an album I love. I took the copy from Ellens record collection to play. Fact is, I was also impressed to discover she had 'It means Everything' by the hugely enjoyable and yet nothing like what I normally listen to Save Ferris , which is ska punk. Thing is, they use the horn section as if the songs were written with them as a primary instrument as opposed to be overdubbed on afterwards. And hell, they are just fun.

SO I slept. Last night I went to bed at 6pm. I woke up at midnight – it was the toilet break part of the sleep experience – and then blogged, checked my mail and was awake for about 2 hours before returning to slumber. I got up at midday. SO out of the past 18 hours, I have spent 15 of them asleep. And that is only a good thing. I feel almost normal again.

Out of those 18 hours, Elvis has been kept outside because, unfortunately, I have asleep and could not have him running around. I’ve just let him in, he hopped, looked cute and then ran around the living room. He appears to be a happy bunny. Maeve on the other hand, spent most of last night cuddled up next to me, purring and getting fussed whenever I awoke.

Shortly, I will eat and then go out to get on a train and visit the evil that is LONDON. Well, its not that evil, but I will have my mobile on me, and hopefully a couple of good books which I recently found in charity shops to entertain, and a city to explore. Those londoners of you with my mobile number - ie none of you - cannot meet for drinks 'n shit unless you ask for the number, so there.

The Art Of Darkness, a critical look at the works of Stephen King (published in 1982 and long long long out of prinbt, and referenced in other books about King as pretty much the sminal critical book on him too). C+P this into nyour browser, if it doesnt work... here


And After the empire by Emmanuel Todd which is a fascinating description of why the US will shortly collapse because of its overreaching ambitions, courtesy of the person who predicted the collapse of the evil empire of the USSR back in 1979. No wonder Americans hate it.

Which is not only was a bargain, - I paid 50p for a book that was published 4 months ago at 16 times the price, and apart from having one of the finest front covers ever – from the aircraft boneyard in America, is also going to be interesting and thought provoking.

What else have I been doing? Reading blogs, mainly. There’s one called the Bad husband which I discovered at random, and it seems to be heartbreaking because he seems to admit and accept all the blame in what appears toi be a vain and futile attempt to save his crumbling marriage. It looks like the only way he thinks he can save it is by sacrificing all ego, self-esteem and self-worth in anyone else’s eyes, taking all the humiliation and guilt, and it’s truly heartbreaking to see someone reduced to such a low place by their own free will. The other one I read off my brothers and digallaghers,blog, Tiki girl who I’d never read before, and that’s similarly fascinating in that intimate way that only a complete stranger who you will probably never meet – or if you’ve met them once, never meet again –laying themselves bare. Damn good writing too, though I empathise with certain parts of it – mainly the self-doubting parts; there’s appears to be a considerably more success in the bedroom department here than me. Maybe it’s because nobody actually wants any form of relationship at all with the self-obsessive narcissic depressive no-self esteemed personage that is your epnoymous superhero* ; I Brummie

I had hoped to be out by one. However, I am waiting for dinner to cool down, then I will spend 40 minutes chasing Elvis around the living room as he has discovered a circuit whereby he can run around the room and return to his cosy hiding place next to the radiator behind the sofa, and repeat this ad infinitum until I get exasperated and decide to lure him out with chocolate.

I am right now, listening to Save Ferris. It makes me smile – in a good way. I love it when you listen to music you know inside out and still it` makes you feel good.

Shortly, I will have to chase Elvis around the living room for about 20 minutes to stick him in his hutch...typical or what eh?

Laters, peeps.

*the superho bit is a lie

All access to Internet and no work makes jack a dull boy.

Since Tuesday at 4pm I have slept – 3 ½ hours on Tuesday night
6 hours on Wednesday night.
4 hours on Thursday night.

As I write, (its 1pm) I have now been up 28 hours without sleep. I am about to go out for a meal with a friend and a nice afternoon walk. I guess this is my compulsive addictive personality in extreme unfettered, access to broadband and no reason to get up in the morning – and therefore, no reason to go to sleep- ever! - mode.

However, there’s only so many days you can go without sleep before insanity and then afterwards, death, kicks in. On the other hand, I fully intend to stay alive and sane.Which means I will have a kip when I get back.The war against sleep has been lost, pal.

I have however, spent a lot of time watching DVD’s:

- Turbulence
- Star Wars: Episode One – The Phantom menace
- Star Wars: Episode Two – Attack of the Clones
- Star Wars: Episode Four – A New Hope
- Star Wars: Episode Five – The Empire Strikes Back
- Star Wars: Episode Six – Return of the Jedi
- Therapy – Scocophobia Live in belfast + backstage
- Henry Rollins – The Making of Nice / Up for it interviews
- Scarface: The Making Of (documentary)

By the time I get to bed, some 4 hours later – it is almost 32 hours without sleep.Or to put it another way, I have had the equivalent of 2 nights sleep – 13 ½ hours in 102 hours (or over 4 days). I lie on the bed fussing the cat and sleep, fall asleep with Maeve cuddled up next to me like the ball of black fluff and love he is. I’ve never met a more gentle, timid, cat. Elvis is in his hutch, though he has not been in long today, and me and Mark Richards spent 20 minutes chasing him around the living room to put his back outside, Elvis too, is utterly utterly adorable. I don’t know what happened, but at some point my hard exterior of manhood melted and I became the kind of person who loves pets and animals very dearly. God knows why, because they are not CD or DVD shaped.

But what I can tell you is that Mark Richards is too damn nice for his own good – having had a lovely meal with him, and walked around Kingston for a bit, he astounds me with just how nice he actually is. But lovely to see him anyway. And then…I came back and cuddled cats. And slept. With the light on, I was that knackered, I just zonked out.

I slept down om the coach too. I muust have been knackered, because I nodded off at about Rugby/Northampton and next thign I know I'm looking across at the famous 007 car park - ie Brent Cross shopping centre where they filmed the carchase of the bond movie, Tomorrow Never Dies.

Music: Tigertailz. Ealry glam metal from the 90's. Based in cardiff. Back in the days where the guitarz were big and the hair was bigger. there's some shocking photographic evidence here , and here . Download the offical Mp3's here :- (Personally, the best tracks are Love Bomb baby , Livin without You and Sick Sex. , though their cover of Metallica's Creeping Death aint bad neither)



I think I’m going to go back to cuddling Maeve. Awww, she’s wonderful. Zzzzzzz…..

?

Im so tired, yet have to be up so early, is there any point in going to bed? I really don't know - and im too tired to decide....

*hugs you all*

Hello, all.

I am quiet because I am in London with my brother . I am quiet because i) he never gets off the PC (it is his PC, after all) and ii) Thus he might want to use it. Thus I will be a little quiet until Friday, when he flies to chicago and I will be flatisitting, looking after the lovely elvis, who is adorably cute, and maeve is adorable also. Because when I was trying to sleep Maeve decided to cuddle up next to my tummy, and purred softly. And my heart melted.

In the meantime, lovers of w. Axl Rose might want to clck on this. More later.

Quick blog, and this time, I mean it. I have shedloads to do, I feel extremely unwell – nausea and overtiredness, combined with a pulsing sensation in the temples that could only get any worse if it actually did what they do in Scanners. Like this:-



And that would hurt.

I feel like I’m coming down with something. Just general being rundown, depressed, seasonal adjustive disorder – I checked my score for that and it’s quite high, and combined with this personality test, it appears SAD and obsessive compulsive addictive behaviour don’t help.

Anything over 20 appears to be a problem, tho. I don’t understand why the Alcohol score is so high , because I drink about a pint a week. Or the Gambling, because I’ve never gambled in my life, though it might refer to risky and reckless behaviour. I definitely agree with the caffeine, though not the shopping – again, I keep it under control. I suppose if there was a catergory for internet addiction, I’d be into three figures though.

Alcohol: 22
Tobacco: 0
Recreational Drugs: 0
Gambling: 25
Shopping: 50
Food Binging: 35
Compulsive Helping Submissive: 30
Food Starving: 10
Compulsive Helping Dominant: 41
Sex Addiction: 47
Work Addiction: 32
Relationship Dominant: 35
Caffine: 23
Prescription Drugs: 18
Exercise: 1
Relationships Submissive: 42

Oh well, that is quite scary . Can someone book me in with the shrink now please? And no, I don’t mean the scientologists

Spent most of yesterday looking up Nuclear test sites from the US in the 50’s..This is a fascinating article about it all, here and more in depth here And this is the first test site, some 48 hours after the blast.



However, even in the paroxysm of a nuclear explosion – life can flourish afterwards. This is ground zero of a 1955 nuke test site. With a tuft of grass at the very spot of explosion.


Ok, here's some links:-

1) How Could America Elect Such An Ignorant Man?

2) Blinglish. This is why I despise and loathe the hiphopittiization of culture.The articles, here, here and here

3)It appears theft of private property is perfectly legal in the US, as long as the municipal authority do it . It makes me rage at the injustice of it all.

4)Ramsey Clark calls for the impeachment of Bush.

5)The long term perspective and context of the War on Drugs – here “These policies are simply pretexts to militarize the people, to try to impose new world orders that have nothing to do with nations’ own realities - They are pretexts that insult human intelligence.”

6)Naomi Klein on Fallujah; The US policy that you have to destroy a village to save it remains unchanged since Vietnam. Die first, then vote

7) The first person in England to be charged with incitement to his own murder? Read it here

8) looks like Da Vinci was just being rude doesn’t it?

9)This is how the Us greets anti-war protestors – with tanks. How far we have come from Tiananmen Square. eh?

10)Word on the coronation of King George the 1st of America. In an extremely ostentious and congratulatory ceremony … try here

11)The Hijacking of Evangelical Christianity …. here

12)Whatever happened to the concept of America? The rearguard tells us….here

Check out the full thread with the comments from the astoundingly ignorant Fred25 , which explains more about why the US is utterly fucked better than anything else I can write. Shockingly ignorant, blasé, self-centered and brainless patriotism.

13) The Us is planning surgical military strikes on North korea. Is there no end to this war without peace>? Apparently not

14)I know its been covered elsewhere, but here is the comparison test for the states that voted for Bush in 2004 – and which ones supported or condoned slavery. here


15)Sometimes a kiss is not just a kiss – but a whole lot more

16) When Mice attack Ha Ha Ha



17)and most important of all – Greg palast on election fraud, 2004 style

18) My Mood? Depressed;-




And in other news, My wife apparently has a new partner, thank god. Congratulations . I’ve always felt that its easier for a woman to find a bloke than the other way around…men are much less fussy than women, and are much less tied towards commitment. All it requires for a man to find a woman is a pulse. Call me cynical, but it’s true. Men will settle for anyone rather than be alone, whereas women judge partners on a number of levels – age, heigh, money, satus, etc. – men are just glad that they turn up.

I loved her, deeply, intensely, in the sort of way you only read about in trashy novels. Alas, I suspect she loved in the same you would pity an animal with a bandaged paw.

And lastly,.my computer now has a name.It is called bastard.As in 'work, you fucking bastard!' coz Windows keeps crashing...

*hugs* see ya in a coupla days

Today, I have sat in front of the computer, organising files and working. This is mainly because I have some stuff to do on www.thefinalword.co.uk but cannot do this whilst down south. So, Giles has offered to help, lovely chap that he is, and therefore, I have collated these all into a few documents and mailed them to him.

I have nothing to confess except my sleepiness. I will blog at somepoint tomorrow.

Oh, By the way, i remember having posted on here earlier in the year about why moustaches are evil. I promised I would find it, and so, swisstoni, here it is

In other news, i was supposed to go the Cinema today to see Bridget Jones , and the Corporation. I will inevitably end up seeing neither....

I'm not going to miss Ol' Dead Bastard . Christ, he's responsible for 13 little bastards on welfare (only mormon extremists have that many kids) and dies of a heart attack at 35 after being convicted of drug posession. Sounds like his only talent was fighting, fucking and fucking up womens lives.And he's hailed as some great talent? a Role Model? He was nothing more than a thug with rhymes and a talent for crime.

Who said he was a role model? he did. When arrested by the police for possesion of crack cocaine, he asked the police to make the rocks go away. Why? because he was a role model...

The difference between him and say, Jerry Lee Lewis, James Brown and Ike Turner is simple:ne of the kids on my estate who go around scrabbling TOX 03 everywhere with black marker pens and smashing in phone boxes and making hoax 999 calls claiming my house is on fire want to grow up to be jerry lee lewis or james brown. They just want blingy jewellery, platinum discs, fast cars and their very own clothes range....

just like ODB.

Good fucking Riddance, thats what I say. I hope Hell gotta Ghetto.

Part Two:

Anyway, me and Cathy Split. After that, like I say, I started another relationship.

First was with Susan. Susan is / was lovely, very caring, over the top and utterly utterly spontaneous. Reckless, almost. Sensible yes, but definitely live for the moment and that moment is now. We split in a few weeks. I recently learned that Her parents have only met 3 of her boyfriends ever, of which I was on, and I farted at the dinner table. Whether this is related to me and her splitting, I cannot say. Saw her recently, where I ended up in Snobs and got drunk and had a great time.

Second was with a girl called Z.We’ll just leave it as Z. Fiesty, incredibly intense. Literally straight into this one, I’d not even moved out from Cathy when this started – I’d already got the move planned in full though for the following weekend. We kissed on the Monday and on the Saturday I moved back to my dads so the overlap was a matter of days though.

However, she moved back to her parents in up north courtesy of trouble where she was living. Ultimately, without someone there to be with, I felt unwanted and unloved and continued to fall into the depressive / self-esteem cycle. We split up, got back together, split up, got back together and on and on. The relationship had got too demanding for my fractious emotional state at the time : I didn’t really want to be in an emotionally intense relationship, where everything was 150% all the time into each other, where you seem to subsume yourself into them. I ended it. It wasn’t her fault I was headfucked at the time – kinda like I am at the moment, because she did nothing wrong except have intensely strong feelings for me that I couldn’t possibly reciprocate. She was ultimately, looking back on it now , almost entirely compatible with me in terms of every other aspect of the relationship.

Eventually, we got back together, but before then, I started seeing someone else, called Bridget.

Bridget lived a long distance away – Nottinghamshire to my Birmingham - and we didn’t see each other much. However, the reason why I started seeing Bridget was purely a selfish one for me. Quite simply, I had heard rumours about people meeting each other from the internet, from online, and I was curious if it did actually happen. Well, that’s the reason why me and Bridget ended up together, because it turned out that not only did people meet from online, but sometimes they even started going out together. Sometimes it wasn’t the going out as much as staying in that was important.

It didn’t last long, we were too different. Anyway, perhaps more importantly than the distance difference was that i)she smoked (big turn off) and ii)She voted Conservative. Big no no’s for me really. I could joke and say we split over political differences, but it would be a lie – we split because she and I weren’t working out, and never were going to.

I met someone else. Someone who I had also met online. Kind of – we were on the same music mailing list and we chatted on that, and there was a band local she was off to see, and wanted to know if there was anyone else local going. There were 4 or 5 of us on the same mailing list that had known each other from real life anyway for ages – carbons as we call them - all based in Birmingham going to see the same band , so we agreed to meet up, and I met Paula for the first time.

Now, I must admit, I was very attracted to her, despite her being completely unlike any girl I had ever been with before. I was 26, she was 19, but looked younger. The reason why I was attracted to her was simple – she was funny, dry, sarcastic, and had her own mind. She was no sheep, and that was what attracted me to her – she wasn’t the kind of girl to shut up and put up for the sake of an easy life, and didn’t care for the approval of others.

But most importantly, she looked like the kind of stunningly attractive girl I’d never think I’d ever have a chance with. She was unbelievably thin and I could never stop asking myself what the hell she saw in me. And I was astounded someone as good looking as her would settle for me when she could have her pick of any man.

And the best thing was, we both had our own space. Enough space to be ourselves, not to live under each others feet, to feel the benefits of being in a relationship rather than the disadvantadges of feeling hemmed in, trapped….Alas, this did not last forever. I got commitmentophobia - that irrational fear of staying with someone, and decided to end it. I shouldn’t really have done, because again, she did nothing to warrant this. I was just scared of getting badly hurt again, and when I look back on it, She was probably a better match for me than pretty much anyone else I’ve ever had a stable relationship with, in the long term, but I got cold feet and chickened out. Again, I look back and this, Graham, you’re a crazy person, why?

After that me and Z got back together. She dumped me after a month. I was single again.

It was the middle of this, that I had a very very bad Thursday morning. I was in bed and I woke up. With stabbing, stining chest pains and my left arm was numb. Great, my first heart attack at 27, I thought. I asked the doctor to be called out, they visited me, and rushed me into hospital. I spent the day ridiculously bored with they did EEG and ECG’s and other things with 3 letter abbreiviations,and hen they let me go. I was signed off work for 3 months, and because It was temporary work, I had no work to go back to. I moved out of my parents and within3 months, unable to pay the rent, I was technically classified as homeless.

A friend called Dawn said, ‘no, im not having you homeless’ and I lodged there. We fell in love and got married. 3 years or so later, I’m in the same position as i was before i moved in – i've lost my job, I'm homeless, I'm no bank account, I'm being chased for money and, single. Very single. I feel like Bob in Fight Club.

The ex’s I mention up there? Well, they all seem to be blissfully happy with their current men, living together, taking holidays together, sleeping in the same beds as someone who loves them. And I think to myself, it could have been me If I’d stayed the course and not been such a flake, and I can’t blame anyone else for these failures. And ya know what? I’m chuffed. Someone else is making them happy. Happy in a way I never could. I was never good enough, I suppose. Why settle for second best? I don’t hate them – even after one of them sent various threatening communications, persistent phone calls and emails because she dumped me and couldn’t get me back….

Despite that. I still care about them, I still want them to have happiness even if I do not. If times change and they were single again now, would it make any difference? Probably not. It’s history. There’s no point in trying to turn the clock back.

Anyway, if I had time machine, it’d be the last thing I’d do. First thing I’d probably do is buy multiple copies of the first Stone Roses single, multiple copies of the Manics and Coldplay early singles, and go stand on a grassy knoll in Dallas with a Super 8 camera. Then I’d tell George Lucas that Jar Jar Binks is a really really fucking bad idea….

I’m far more concerned with the future…it is where I am gonna spend the rest of my life, after all. I’ll carry on. I know I can make someone happy, even if it is only me One day, I’ll be with someone new. Maybe then I can tell you, dear reader, how much I love them and what happens when we row, or something. Or not, as the case might be, but my point is this: whatever happens, happens for a reason, and I can’t change the past, only the future.

Until then, you’d have to settle for me just baring my soul, being brutally honest, and looking the mistakes of my past so I hopefully don’t repeat them. Is that enough?

It is for me.

Hugs everyone. Night Night.

Part one:

After Di , A closer inspection of my personal timeline – not published here – reveals I dispensed with my virginity in 1990 – 14 years ago. I use the word dispensed because I didn’t really lose it and wasn’t relieved of it (though I was relieved not to be a virgin any longer) . The more I think about it, I didn’t lose it so much as , well, it got mislaid.

I was 16 and a half, she was slightly older (about six months), and I went over to hers for her 17th birthday. She asked me out, and we kissed, and then about 3 weeks later, on Valentines day, we had sex for the first time. I remember excruciating pain, that give way to something pleasant, and that was that. I wondered the next day at school If I acted different, looked different. Would they know? Alas though, I was immature, I had never paid a bill and still at school (well, secondary school / college) . The reason why I was still at school was because I was too immature to go and get a job-I knew it.

Fast forward a few years.And I find a situation in mi life being talked of on Mark’s blog. Well, in 1996 I ended up living with my girlfriend, Cathy. We split up in 1999. First long term relationship, disintergrated quite messily – with her spending weekends away with a different man, sharing a tent with him on camping holidays, and going back to the hotel room of pop stars who she’d fancied for years, and so forth. Looked very suss.

It wasn’t my decision , and I took it quite badly. I came to realise it took two people for a relationship to work, and I couldn’t hold it together on my own making all the effort. I knew it wasn’t working. She knew it wasn’t working. So we called time on it. Well, she did – she said she wasn’t going to sign the lease again to continue where we were. I knew if she was happy,. She would have been happy to continue signing the lease, because there was nothing wrong with the flat at all. In fact, we both were going to really really miss it.

At that time I swore not to love again. Why would I? I would only get hurt, get upset, because lets face it, it didn’t work. I’d thrown myself headlong into things and for all my efforts, it had fallen apart like a skyscraper build on a foundation of BluTac and prittstick.

And most of all, I didn’t like myself. I blamed myself for it. It hadn’t worked because of things I’d done. I was 26 and scared of being left on the shelf. Left behind. Why would anyone want me?

So , feeling rejected and unwanted, I flung myself around. Anyone who showed an interest, I was flattered, I pursued. I felt like I’d been thrown on the scrapheap, unwanted, worthless. And I found myself responding for the sake of ego. The physical affection of others made me realise I wasn’t repulsive, wasn’t washed up, wasn’t over the hill. Mind you, I was much thinner then and had more hair.

You see, the impression some people get is that I blame Cathy for all this. I don’t. She didn’t cause it by breaking up with me. I’m not denying responsibility. It’s just that well, I look over the chronology, and realise that after that relationship ended, I spiralled down to rock bottom pretty quickly and stayed there for a long time. I still haven’t crawled back up.

Firstly, I moved back into the spare bedroom at my dads. I practically waved the little white flag of surrender, turned up at my dad’s house and said to him’ Dad, I can’t hack it in the real world. I want to come back and live at the bank of mum and dad again, and play all day and eat sweeties’. Ok, the last two points aren’t strictly true.

You see, with no self-esteem, I had to go running back and hide. Admit to him that I was a failure, unable to stand on my own two feet, make it in the real world. Depression starts insinously and it didn’t go away.

Then I got a computer. And it felt like I had access to the biggest playground in the world. Hey! Just another interesting website to read, oh, its OK, I’ll phone in sick this once. Then it was once a week. Then it was twice…

My obsessive compulsive behaviour seemed to get the best of me; and if I hadn’t split up from cath, then the subsequent train(wreck) of events wouldn’t have happened. They ended in horrific debts I’m currently still paying off, and will be for years, and being admitted to hospital with chest pains and numbness in your left arm at the age of 27 with a suspected heart attack. I’ve chilled a lot out since then. Funny how you get that perspective really. I was signed off work ill for 3 months due to stress, and it being a temporary position, there was no job to go back to. Which was great, it really wasn’t. Either way, all these things came pretty much one after the other, in quickish succession, and that’s that.

Do I blame her? No.

But I do recognise that when she and I split was the beginning , the first point from which things went rapidly downhill, deteriorated and then hit rock bottom – within two years I had a bank account closed down, was being chased through courts for money, had no job or career prospects, and was classified as homeless. As Bill Hicks said, all it takes is the right bar, the right friends, and the right girl.

The way I feel is this: She is someone who even after we split, we were friends, close friends. We still could be, but its not likely because of the way she acted. Now, in this case, I’m not taking the blame because it isn’t down to my actions. Simply, we would meet up, go to the pub, have the kind of conversations we should have had to stay together, the conversations good friends should have. Either way, she had a new bloke, a nice bloke, I liked him. And when she wasn’t around him, it was good friends. As soon as he turned up, she was different.

She had to impress. Belittle me. Put me down in front of him. In a way, prove how little I was to her. Play her own mind games. Shit, all I wanted was to be her friend still, and she was treating me like a plaything, like a piece of shit, like an inconvienience, just to show off to him. She didn’t have to, we got perfectly well otherwise, and that was that.

I decided that was just petty, childish, immature and pointless. I had been through toio much already. There was no need to continue being put down. Somehwere in that previous year, I had regained enough self-esteem to realise I didn’t have to put up with treated like that anymore. No need to put up with that immature shit. So I stopped being in contact.

And a couple of years later, I called my brother, and he was with Cathy. And she shouted down to the phone when she realised it was me..’Hello, evil bitch!!!!’, . And It made me furious, because she thought she could just treat me like a plaything, a toy, something to make fun out of for her own cruel amusement.

Biggest shame is, there was no need for it to end that way at all. No need. It could have been so different, but someone else chose to act like a childish fool and ruin the friendship, the moments we had built up over the years of being together, those nights of crying with each other and sharing all our intimate secrets, for the sake of a quick laugh and a childish put down. Hell, All she has to do is not act like a childish twat trying to score points, and things could be fine. Me? I’d tried to be fairly grown up about it and stay in touch, and all it got me was being insulted. And quite frankly, I've outgrown that. it does nothing except make the other person look childish. I'm too old for that shit.We all are.

Can you blame me for cutting ties and not wanting to get involved? I don't. Of course, if she could avoid being like that and just be grown up about it, god only knows. Still, there's always the future. But there's a distinct reason why our orbits tend not to cross - and it's all up there...

And that’s the sad way the story ends for tonight.

*presses CTRL+ALT+DELETE on eyelids and goes to bed*

Well, A quick blog:-

Interesting enough, blog comments now come with spam, as evidenced on here. Go down to this entry and read the comments , brought to you courtesy of poker rooms online and texas hold ep. Not an original observation, my Brother noticed it. But One thing he didnt seem to notice was the following paragraph:-

'Man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much...the wheel, New York, wars, and so on, whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely the dolphins believed themselves to be more intelligent than man for precisely the same reasons.'

ladies and gentlemen, Spammers now appear to be technogeeks. We knew this anyway, but quoting huge chunks of 25 year old Radio Comedy shows really is geeky. Yes, it's excerped from The Hitch hikers Guide to the Galaxy, Episode 3, and that means that Spammers read Douglas Adams. Still, a well read spammer is still a spammer, 4 fuxake.Whats next, vast chunks of spam written by Terry Pratchett?

Terry Pratchett -"Spam" a discworld novel. When lumps of mechnically recovered meat and Spiced Portk start falling on the streets of Ankh Morpork emblazoned with advertising slogans, the Wizard Rincewind decides someone is combining the spells of magic and the glory of free-market capitalism. And if he doesn't find out who it is soon, all the magic is Discworld will soon disappear forever.... (Co-written with Karl Marx, obviously).

Secondly, courtesy of Di, someone whose blog I don't agree with; His name is Bern and it's here . Maybe it's because I don't live in Israel, but I really fail to comprehend why he has to write an obitary of Yasser arafat started 'RIP you bastard' before then proclaiming that he obviously died of AIDS - Thats why death posters have been put up stating
"The death of the wicked is a cause for celebration! With gladness and joy we rejoice to announce the demise of Yasser Arafat, may he rest in Hell. And so should all the enemies of Israel perish." signed, Suha.




Hey and if you believe the AIDS theory, you might start finding the news on www.rense.com as a more creditable news source than the BBC , or as the sun calls it, the Baghdad Broadcasting Corporation.( by that Definition the Murdoch Broadcasting Corporation (ie the amalgamation of Fox and Sky) should be considered a moderate left wing impartial news resource, despite the recent court victory in Florida which claims that news channels have no obligation to tell the truth, and another recent court case where , I gather, Sky News was no longer allowed to use the words 'Fair and Balanced' about their own product because, well, they were neither.

But hey! Maybe I'm wrong.Maybe Arafat was a terrorist. At least He was a democratically elected leader - but quite frankly, its Ariel Sharon I'm more scared about. And Israel military policy - Israel seems to have the attitude it can arbitarily invade other soverign territories with relative international impunity (Look at the 1967 war, if I remember correctly). well, that was as illegal unfder international law as when Hitler invaded Poland claiming it needed liebensraum . This isn't the anti-semitic card by the way, this is applying the same international standards to everyone. Thats why the US should have supported the UN resolutions condemning Israel as opposed to vetoing them, yet if Saddam Hussein did the same thing, like in 1991, they'd bomb the crap out of him. Go Figure.

With no effective or organised democratic or politically recognised opposition (certainly in the Internation Community) who's gonna complain if Sharon just rolls tanks into 'occupied territories', starts sending in fighter jets to attack housing complexes and so forth? Perhaps it's not as widely known over there, but the US gave Israel atomic weapons in 1967 and that means the threat of that alone means that there can never be political parity or respect, IMHO. You can't claim equality and co-existence when you enemy lives just over there and you've got the A-Bomb.This might be shooting myself in the foot, but still its interesting reading

Bren claims that 'What the crowd doesn't do is strap on ten kilos of explosives and wander into a shop full of kids. ' . Nope, you send in bulldozers, tanks and shoot 10 year old kids in the back . Way to go!



And, by the way, i feel honoured to be part of the 'pro-Palestinian bleeding heart types (....with..) their left-wing, feminist, democratic, be-nice-to-animals, what-have-you dogmas' . Shit, its the nicest things I've been called all day. But Whats wrong with i)democracy (would you prefer dictatorship or oligarchy?), ii)Sexual Equality/ Feminism (hey, of course a woman isn't worth as much as a man) or iii)Being nice to animals (or is it everytime you see your pet dog, are you thinking of how much you could save in supermarket bills by cooking them?). Some people you just can't reach...

Oh well. I suspect me and he might be having some interesting conversations and deabtes soon enough.

ladies, and gentleman, meet the virtual bartender

A quick test is quite revealing about what beer drinking American blokes what from a woman. Especially a voluptuous blonde bartender. She will rserve you drinks – but only to the command BEER and BOTTLE.

And the other commands it respons to? Kiss (for lesbo action), Kiss me, strip, fuck, ass, arm, foot, hair, sleep, head, knee and pussy. Which says that all Americans want is a woman who bring them beer and fuck on command. What an encapsulation of Johnny Redneck or what?

Quote of the day from, Eric Hobsbawm "The man who sets dogs on Concentration Camp victims or fires his revolver into the back of their necks is evidently a brute; the intellectual who devises justifications for the brutality is harder to deal with, and far more sinister in the long run”

Only Other things ive done today is write reviews: You can find the news that the Wedding Present have reformed here , the verdict on Bad Santa here , and just how bad Alien Vs. Predator is here .

I'm all written out. Cheerio.

Time to blog.

Again, like always, I can’t sleep. Sleep is my friend, bed is my friend, but insomnia and mornings aren’t. I’ve always been that way, but still.. whoever invented mornings has my wrath. Especially when I hear the alarm wake me up and I hit snooze. And hit snooze again. And again. And again….I sit in the jobcentre listening to a stream of useless dull tedious jobs and twaffle from the man behind the counter, waiting for the moment where I can sign and get out and get back to my own life. But whilst Some of you misers might say, ‘pfff, half an hour in the jobcentre every two weeks, that works out at £220 an hour ya scrounger!’ Well, work it out like this

110.60 divided by 24 divided by 14 = my hourly rate of pay. 34.52p an hour.

So I did that. Then I went out. Did some shopping. Cursed at the lack of working photocopying machine in Oxfam. Got on a bus – a number 18 to cotteridge. Got on an 11 to kings heath. got on the 11 again to kings heath. Then the 37.to Sparkbrook. Then the 8 to five ways. Then got to meet giles. And went to the movies.

Saw Aliens Vs. Predator. More will be posted later on this. Full review for tfw. Some good ideas, entertaining enough, some decent FX, good production design and set design, but sorely lacking in characterisation, plot and so forth. Basically, if you love men in rubber suits smacking the shite out of each other with some X-Files conspiracies thrown in and one scene reminiscent of the thing, you might like it. A wasted opportunity, but still, good if dumb brainless fun. Some of it is funny for the right reasons, some for the wrong reasons, and some of it you laugh with becuase for ages, you've wanted to see two guys in rubber suits have a big franchise smackdown. The US version was apparently cut for profanity to get the PG-13 - ppl saying to the predators 'you're an ugly mother; and in the uk version we get 'you're an ugly motherfucker'

Good things: the ideas of predator mythology and code of ethics,the predator mothership design, predator history and how it relates to humanity,the Predator suits and stuff. The alien monster designs and suits.Brilliant set design and lighting - lots of nice little incidental details too.

Bad Things: The ending. WTF is going on there? There's no characterisation, the characters are just cyphers, and it just feels empty, hollow and desperate in places.

P.S. If you don't want to know who wins, think of it like this: Predators have shitloads of weaponry, can go invisible ,have wristwatches made of atomic bombs AND they have Dreadlocks. Aliens on the other hand, have acid for blood. Go figure it out.

Rambo vs. Terminator anyone?

Then went to tesco. Mmmm. Tesco Kick is one buy one get one free offer. 3 times stronger than redbull, and 2 litres for 99p – and a quarter of the price. That means I’ve got the equivalent of 12 cans of Red Bull in the fridge right now.

To quote the almighty, I’ve been up for weeks, on Crank and Deceit.

Then off to See bad Santa. That film is so fucking wrong and offensive, it’s almost untrue. But fuck me, it is funny. Deeply offensive, deeply anti-christian, fuelled by the centreal conceit of an misanthropic, drunkard, asocial bloke playing Santa Claus. He’s deep down a good person, but has done a lot of bad things and everything in his life falls apart. Filled with self loathing, he’s the kind of person who you’d buy a beer just to have him get the fuck away from you. And it’s often deeply hilarious, downright disturbing and very very good. I saw it on pirate ages ago, and I still wanted to see it at the cinema and it didn’t affect my enjoyment one bit. And endlessly quotable.

Then I went to the library and came home. I will write proper reviews later. But I feel like I’m in an inexplicably good mood. Lord knows why.

*checks empty bottle of prozac and grins like a loon*

Maybe I’m coming a little late to this, but it’s been an OK couple of days. Di Gallagher says she is stalking me. I don’t mind. Call it blog-stalking, if you like!

Its funny really - I never wrote this blog for anyone but me, never was really intended that way. It was just a way of splurging my brain, doing a coredump of my random access memory. You see, I never advertised the blog anywhere, I never promoted it via britblog or londonblog or whatever. I just told my brother, my good mate Giles (who had acted as my best man) and a friend in Cheltenham.

That means, bizarrely enough, you all made your own way here. Maybe you clicked on ‘Get next blog’ at the top, and randomly found yourself here. And as at least one person said, they saw ‘I, Brummie’ at the top and got a swell of local pride at a fellow midlander.

I think the title, I, Brummie has stuck now, so even If I fancy changing it, I probably shouldn’t. Ich Bin Ein Midlander sounds good though.

Thing is amazed how many ppl come here and I don’t advertise, they just find their own way here. From various other blogs, links from Swiss Toni and Di and Thomas and mark and so forth. It’s weird, really weird. Because I feel a sort of bizarre cyber kinship with Thomas , and Di , and mark Mark; they’re part of my online life. Like friends in the digital world. And hey, I sometimes even worry about ‘em.

Especially Swiss Toni. That mustache scares me. I've proof that all mustahces are evil, and its here

Ok, before I get all mushy on ya, its part of this whole thing – you can have a weird net relationship with someone you’ve never met. Probably never will. People who I probably would never meet any other way or communicate with except via the interweb.(Though if Di and Troy ever come to England, please say hello. It would be sooo weird!)

Ok, But the good thing about a blog – it keeps people in touch. Lets be honest here, My brother is like a brother to me. I rarely see him, often not for months on end. I miss him, he’s like a mate whose never there, and I miss him dearly, meeting up with him for lunch, going to to the pub with him, and mainly, annoying the hell out of him. But courtesy of the blog he has, I know what he’s up to. What he’s thinking of, and it does something to make me feel closer to him. I know he’s in a soppy mood, but still…So am I sometimes.



He’s got a lovely rabbit and a lovely girlfriend, and its nice to see em together.




But here’s a couple of interesting facts:-

About the election - Look here .


We’re all used to seeing a map of the US where 80% of the states are in red, making it look like there’s a only few isolated states on the outskirts that voted for Kerry. Well, looking at this (its adjusted for population, by the way), it’s a lot more telling.


Oh, and by the way, Brother, the reason why Superman III+IV /Supergirl aren’t out on DVD in England yet is down to the way that the first two were financed by the Salkinds – the Non-US distribution rights now no longer belong to Warners, but elsewhere (courtesy of Cannon Films and their subsequent collapse in the late eighties). Hence the UK rights are in limbo. I’d love to see a test screening cut of Superman IV:the Quest for a good movie, and Superman III is aces, but still, there’s a US box set for about £45 or so with all the movies in it. If ya that bothered.

There’s loads else I’ve got to say. But not right now. Books to read, music to listen too, and shedloads to do.

P.S.

Mark, it’s my line about the fact that Max Rebo plays music and eats through his fingers. It’s true though, what more could you want in life? Except of course to take him on vacation to Florida ina suspended animation chamber, like this !

Even the dark lord of the sith is apologising now. Does he know something about bush we don't? *Scratches chin thoughtfully*

1)You have got to be fucking kidding.

Replacement for John Peel is announced. He makes Zane Lowe look like fucking shaft, for gods sake. More anondyne, identikit, bullshit radio crap.

Welcome to Radio K.L.O N.E. - the station that plays all the same music as EVERYONE else.Any reason to listen to radio one has now expired.




Those of you who wish to attend John peel’s funeral would do well to check this link :- It starts at 1pm and finishes at 1.07pm, before the vicar realizes he's been doing it at the wrong speed and then starts again.


2) Midge Ure has got a goddamn point.When he says this:-
"I had Fran Healey from Travis phone me the other day saying the first time this happened it was all about the issue, it was all about Africa, it was all about people starving. This time it seems to be all about the f**king record, and that is boring. It's really not about the record at all. If the record's about anything it's about us giving ourselves a pat on our backs saying we did something twenty years ago. The record carries on generating money because it's a christmas song; every year that record is played on the radio, every time it's played on the radio the money goes to the Band Aid Trust, so this in a way is a refocussing and a celebration of something that happened before. And I just wish to god and people would stop speculating."


3)I heart Di gallagher . Yes, i know she's got a bloke, and is another continent, and she's done her hair, but yay! She's funny to read. Why? Anyone who thinks the best way to builf flatpack furniture is with chocolate and cute doggies is onto a winner, seriously .

+
=




4)Damn fascinating book.


5)Local man finds thing. This is NOT the onion, by the way.

Quick movie Review:-

[auto bridget jones]

day infinity. Still single. Arse is big. 699 calories. I'm so fucking fat. need to get down to 4st 7lbs before any man will notice me ever again.
*eats cake*
*expires from self-narcissism*

[/auto bridget jones]

Just a bit of news thats all. Nothing major.

I'd like to say hello to some of my visitors. Looking over the stats of the weeks, it turns out I appear to have gathered some friends in strange places. 23 visitors from Yugoslavia, and 15 from Singapore, not to mention visits from Burkini Faso, Estonia and Qatar. But these couple are most interesting.

.gov USA Government 3
.mil USA Military 2

I'd like to say hello to my visitors from US government and the US Military. Hi! I'm just exercising your First Amendment right to free speech, and that includes criticism of existing and current domestic and foreign US policy. It's not sedition - it's informed opinion. However, I would like to remind you of Patriot Act II, which according to an article by Eve Hilary has the following consequences.

'The Patriot Act also requires me to report anyone I know who may be intending to do anything 'intimidating' to the US government, or even thinking about it. This required special clairvoyant skills, but the penalty for not knowing what others are thinking is a stiff 10 years in a US federal penitentiary. In addition, if anyone in the any other country in the world thinks about these things, I am required to report them to the US authorities. They can then be spied on in their own country with the aid of local-version anti-terrorist legislation which many countries have now passed throught their Parliaments.It is designed to dovetail perfectly with the patriot act, empowering it over the peoples of other countries, without anyone having discussed it, voted for it, or consented to it powers. It seems that the sovereign nations of the world are deemed to be ruled under a foreign power.

Suspects from the act can be removed from their own country to the United States or to any unknown whereabouts and have their assets seized.(Echoes of Guantanamo again: creating a prison planet for thought crimes, as foretold by Orwell). If I should reveal the locations where persons are secretly held without a trial, I could also be deemed a terrorist and the penalty can be death. If i fail to report anyone thinking or talking about 'intimidating' the US, I can have my own assets seized under Section 806 of the PAtriot Act, no matter where I live in the world.'

And from the Dictionary of Cultural literacy, 3rd Edition -

'Police state: A nation where rulers maintain order and obeduience by the threat of police or military force; one with a brutal, arbitrary government'




God Bless America.

I am in a little bit of mourning. This explains why

Rob Heaton died 4th November 2004.

This has some more news

Rob Heaton was the drummer in New Model Army (1983-1998), when he left the band for medical reasons - It's difficult to be a rock drummer when you are being treated for a brain tumour. That wasn't what killed him - he died of pancreatic cancer.

I can't say I was his friend. We only met briefly. But it was an occasion I haven't forgotten.

Back in 1993, I was going through a phase of having just really got into New Model Army. Well, they did some stuff which i still count as amongst my favourite albums some 15 years later - listen to Thunder And Consolation for a well rounded, socially aware album with some of most prescient lyrics I've heard in a long time. One of my friends described Justin Sullivan (singer/lyricst) as the english Dylan, which is a closer comparison than might first appear to be true.(P.S. The later albums aren't anywhere near as good - aside from lyrical obscufication that makes them virtually meaningless, but with half of the songwriting partnership gone, they somehow seemed to forget to write songs anymore. it's quite telling to say that it was Rob Heaton who wrote all the music for their finest Moment, Green and Grey)

Either way, in 1993, they did their first Uk tour since I first got into them obsessively. Being a reckless and impulsive student, with my grant cheque in my back pocket, I decided to do something spontaneous. Fuck it! I'd do the tour. I couldn't do the Birmingham date - I had literally 2 days before gone back up North to register for my third term, and needed that student grant cheque like you wouldn't believe. But Wherever there were friends , i wrote them and phoned em, and made it happen.I did my first date in newcastle with some blokes from uni, having hired a mininbus. We picked up a fanzine seller on the Tyne Bridge, walking back to Stockton, with a 40 mile walk ahead of him. He gave us all free copies of his fanzine as a thank you, and then two days later, turned up at my front door with a C90 containing the bootleg of the show we'd picked him up from, as recorded on the machine he'd done the interview with the band on.I also remember being incredibly paranoid when some people in the bus started saying they spotted someone who danced like they were running on the spot - which was probably me.

A few days later I found myself iN Manchester walking down to the Manchester Academy, walking straight down the Oxford Road. On a Sunday night.Which doesnt sound so bad, until you bear in mind that Oxford Road was student central, and Moss Side : the South Central of the north of Gunchester, was 500 yards to our left. I kept expecting to see Cars squealing round corners , and the staccato popping sounds of firearms being unloaded as dusk approached us.

The next Saturday, my brother was in his kitchen in Leicester. He's saying to Jo, his girlfriend who he lives with at the time, that 'Oh, new Model Army are playing. i suppose We'll see Graham at the doorstep in about 20 minutes, looking for a place to crash.'

20 minutes later, there's a knock on the door. It's me. New Model Army are in town, and so am I. The two might be related.So, with a hastilyt thrown together collection of all my New Model Army CD's I wander off to the DemOntfort hall, where they are playing later in the day. It's not a very secured venue, i just find an open door and walk in. I just sit down in catering, reading a magazin, looking like i should be there.Whilst on a table opposit, I see Justin Sullivan conducting an interview with a fanzine writer. At the end of the interview, i ask if he could sign the stuff, and I wander around the catering a bit.justin brings Rob over, who signs the CD's and then had to rush off to set up the drumkit. I spot Nelson (the bassplayer) and chat to him, getting him to sign them too. I see them all head off to the main hall and watch them soundcheck. They play 'Fate', which they don't play later in the night. It's odd, like watching them rehearse. Like watching a gig for about 3 people.Afterwards, I'm chatting to nelson again, and security want me out, and in the middle of that, i was saying about the Manchester and Newcastle gigs, he recognises I'm a travelling fan and asks for my name. So, my plan works - he sticks me on the guestlist, along with Mark and Jo who have been putting me up for the night. That morning I didnt even know if I was goign to go, and yet a few hours later, I've met them, Watched em soundcheck and gained 4 guestlist places, including a backstage.

I wish I could have such spontaneity nowadays.

the show was good - very good. Quite possibly the best show i saw them do out of the 6 times i've seen 'em, mainly down to a good sized venue and good sightlines.Still, afterwards, i go backstage after a bit, grab a beer from the fridge. i don't know anyone there. I'm just earwigging, just listening, I got nothing to say. A bit awed I suppose, in the way that a shy 19 year old would be if you've met some heroes of yours.

And Rob comes up to me. He talks, gently, quietly. Asks who i am, what i'm there for - he noticed I was quiet, shy, not chatting to anyone. On the outside looking in, I suppose. Asks my name, what I'm doing there, good bands, this sort of thing. He made me feel welcomed, part of the tribe if ya like. But he made me feel like I mattered, like i was interesting to him. He wanted to know about me. Surely I wasn't that important? But It seems that for a little while I was, rather than being some annoying fly buzzing round the heels of someone famous.

I can't say I was ever his friend. I can't say I ever knew him. I only met him briefly - for about half an hour or so. But I'm not ever going to forget it.

One of life's few nice guys - and a brilliant songwriter - is gone.See ya on the otherside, and take me back to the white light.....



"And if one day the final fire explodes across the whitened sky
I know you've said you'd rather die and make it over fast
With courage from your bravest friends, waiting outside for the end
With no bitterness but an innocence that I can't seem to grasp
I know somehow I will survive - this fury just to stay alive
So drunk with sickness, weak with pain, I can walk the hills one last time
Scarred and smiling, dying slow, I'll scream to no one left at all
I told you so, I told you so, I told you so . .

Reasons to love Chris Morris, No 911

Just a quickie -

US election in ohio rigged in favour of Bush - thats' democracy for ya, my friends.

And If the USA wonders why it's gets animosity from other countries...there's perhaps no better explanation for the only way yhe wolrd can rationalise a Bush victory than this

'The unavoidably obvious explanation is that Americans are by and large morons. Simple-minded, uninformed and under-educated, intellectually lazy and proud in their ignorance to boot, self-important and self-righteous, arrogant and benighted idiots. They are a reflection of George W Bush, and in him they saw themselves. That's why they love him and trust him so. Their reality is the faith-based myth that America is blessed and always right and great and perfect and freedom is handed down by God and not man-made constitutional governments and cultures of tolerance and inquiry. They are certain that the "real" America is in the unpleasant, xenophobic, homophobic, red states in the middle, where everybody has a white picket fence in the brain and they don't seem aware of their own squalor and the fact that they make ends meet only because the far more prosperous blue states continue to subsidize their light-beer guzzling.

But of course the 51% is not totally made of "morons". As this correspondent has seen first-hand - the standard greeting: "You're not from around here, are you?" - they learn about the world "out there" from fake news, staged events and sound bites. They might even suspect something is wrong with their alienation, but they are too scared - too lazy? - to contemplate the implications. And most crucially, they are often decent people who want to do the right thing. But they are not provided the instruments for it because nobody, certainly not America's corporate media, is showing that they have been taken for a painful ride by the Rove-Cheney-Bush machine.

There's a form of a new "civil war" going on in the United States. It's up to the rest of the world and world institutions to give full support to the 50 million-plus American voters - plus the millions of forgotten, invisible faces of America who didn't even bother to vote - who are now engaged against Bush's "jihad". Bush's "jihad" terms are well known. The matter of Ohio has been dealt with. Now it's on to the flattening of Fallujah - and then the bombing of Iran, Syria, the whole hit list. That's exactly what al-Qaeda - and the neo-conservatives - want. That's a jihad our world cannot afford. '