i think gospel music is a peculiar tradgedy. let's face it, at least the misguided missionaries gave them some hope, even if it was a false and perverse one. to take anything away from the slave traders and think it positive is awful, but i know there's only so many times a person can be punched in the head before they accept what they're being told. if blair has apologised for the slave trade (alawys one to back a safe horse, isn't he? oh wait, except iraq. and all the times he was wrong about everything), he should also abolish the church of england.
that some of their descnedants would cry, 'this christianity lark is shit! I'm converting to islam' is just a terrible punchline to the whole thing. it's not the practice or the god you're worshipping that's the problem, it's the fact that it's a religion. to misquote john gray, people need rescuing from salvation.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Sunday, February 11, 2007
oh what a weekend
so i went to work on thursday, the day it snowed, and i was fine. and then i began to feel like crap and i wanted to go home. but being the kind of self-critical person that i am, i wasn't sure if it was just a ploy to go home; sasfter all, there's not much incentive to stay at work when it's boring and the food's terrible. and since i wasn't leaking any disgusting fluids, i couldn't be sure i was actually ill. but eventually i gave in and said i didn't feel great to my colleague, who agreed that i didn't look too good (well, thanks very much) and came back. i was reading in bed at some point, listening to my folk collection on random, when teh power went off.i don't remember the day too well; i've spent so much timein bed, slck jawed, eyes closed or covered, utterly ignorant of the passage of time, that it's all melted into one long sunday morning, but shit. anyway, i felt worse as time went on and there was no power, plus no water orheat. i didn't mind the heat because i was in bed with all my clothes on. dan brought me some candles in (this is reflected on his blog), got me some wierd lemsip shots (loose mouthfuls of paracetemol, vitamin c and sherbert, which got progressively harder to take), and juice. i must have slept that night but it's all a huzz.
next day i thought i was a bit better. i've never felt that bad, i've just been comlpetely devoid of energy, stripped of consciousness, and slightly achey. so when the water came back on - signalled by it cascading into our hall and box room from the flat upstairs, who'd left a tap on, what with the taps being dry and all, i did what i had to do, and incompetantly set up pans and cloths. i tried to move things out of the box room but there was just too much stuff. the pans were filling up in about five minutes, and there was no way i was checking them often enough to even realise how fast they were refilling. until right at the end. so they were pretty ineffective. the whole expereince was pretty stressfull and i barely slept a wink all night - having uncontrollable feverish thoughts about boring random shite that wasn't quite dreaming because i wasn't asleep but i still not in control. in the morning i thought it my second worst night's sleep ever, but i'm sure i've used that phrase before so maybe it wasn't.
the next day, power and water went off and on again at some point. i spent the whole day in bed, expect for the making of breakfast. this weekend was meant to have been awesome - i had a birthday party, house warming, a band practice - the first - and a recording session to attend. and i blew it all away on a rubbish illness.don't know about tomorrow - even if i'm well, i don't want to go back to work, having yet had no real respite.
but on a different note, i was wondering in the bath last night if i will ever be obsessed with a band again, like i was with gorky's or simian. i mean, i bought everything gorky's ever released, with the exception of demo tapes and the gewn ni gorfen 7", which was limited to 1000 copies. i bought their entire e.p. back catalogue, and then bought the e.p.s collection because , well by that point, it was just handy to have them on one cd, and it was cheap in vinyl exchange. but then everything's cheap in vinyl exchange, and they've probably got whatever it is you want (but only a promo copy). i suppose it's a combination of my obsessionism waning, and my lack of a quarry. i'll still buy everything that's anything to do with gorky's, so maybe it's not over. i nearly went down the same route with simian when they split, but i lost track of simian mobile disco over various record labels. i'll have to buy the new artic lorries album when it comes out though, as it's produced by simon lord (not the drummer out of simian, oddly, who seemed to have more of a production role in both simian and garden).
but it's quite easy to keep up with many bands these days - for instance, releasing e.p.s is pretty rare in metal circles - buying up ephel duath and dillinger escape plan back catalogues was easy enough. i suppose i need to re-work the magic of the internet to my advantage, and not get lost in the open sea of talent. in fact it's not that - when surfing myspace it's difficult to find anyone who makes me wake up with quality. it's much easier to find a band you like at a show, check out their actual website, thne look at the bands they link to with ACTUAL WEBSITES. music sounded better before myspace.
next day i thought i was a bit better. i've never felt that bad, i've just been comlpetely devoid of energy, stripped of consciousness, and slightly achey. so when the water came back on - signalled by it cascading into our hall and box room from the flat upstairs, who'd left a tap on, what with the taps being dry and all, i did what i had to do, and incompetantly set up pans and cloths. i tried to move things out of the box room but there was just too much stuff. the pans were filling up in about five minutes, and there was no way i was checking them often enough to even realise how fast they were refilling. until right at the end. so they were pretty ineffective. the whole expereince was pretty stressfull and i barely slept a wink all night - having uncontrollable feverish thoughts about boring random shite that wasn't quite dreaming because i wasn't asleep but i still not in control. in the morning i thought it my second worst night's sleep ever, but i'm sure i've used that phrase before so maybe it wasn't.
the next day, power and water went off and on again at some point. i spent the whole day in bed, expect for the making of breakfast. this weekend was meant to have been awesome - i had a birthday party, house warming, a band practice - the first - and a recording session to attend. and i blew it all away on a rubbish illness.don't know about tomorrow - even if i'm well, i don't want to go back to work, having yet had no real respite.
but on a different note, i was wondering in the bath last night if i will ever be obsessed with a band again, like i was with gorky's or simian. i mean, i bought everything gorky's ever released, with the exception of demo tapes and the gewn ni gorfen 7", which was limited to 1000 copies. i bought their entire e.p. back catalogue, and then bought the e.p.s collection because , well by that point, it was just handy to have them on one cd, and it was cheap in vinyl exchange. but then everything's cheap in vinyl exchange, and they've probably got whatever it is you want (but only a promo copy). i suppose it's a combination of my obsessionism waning, and my lack of a quarry. i'll still buy everything that's anything to do with gorky's, so maybe it's not over. i nearly went down the same route with simian when they split, but i lost track of simian mobile disco over various record labels. i'll have to buy the new artic lorries album when it comes out though, as it's produced by simon lord (not the drummer out of simian, oddly, who seemed to have more of a production role in both simian and garden).
but it's quite easy to keep up with many bands these days - for instance, releasing e.p.s is pretty rare in metal circles - buying up ephel duath and dillinger escape plan back catalogues was easy enough. i suppose i need to re-work the magic of the internet to my advantage, and not get lost in the open sea of talent. in fact it's not that - when surfing myspace it's difficult to find anyone who makes me wake up with quality. it's much easier to find a band you like at a show, check out their actual website, thne look at the bands they link to with ACTUAL WEBSITES. music sounded better before myspace.
Friday, February 09, 2007
email to ed
i'll see. i'm not well today - i actually thought that sentance before i'd realised i'd written it, that's how ill - sorry, i mean i wrote that sentance before i'd realise d i'd thought it. argh.i 'm gonna make the practice tomorrow, i'll have to, but i don't know if i'll be able to do much more. erk. the water's pouring through the cieling in the hall too, so i'm not getting much rest. doing my head in. sorry i missed your call. i got very confused with the phones, it's not until you actually have to confront someone that you realise how little your mind is working. i rang you back, thinking you were at home, and then there were two calls open on my phone, and i was speaking to this girl who said 'it's elvis', and i wasn't quite sure what had happened but i assumed it was elvis from valerie althugh she sounded a bit different, so i thought i'd just better play it out and see what she wanted. after a bit of silence, i remembered that elvis was the company you worked for and asked for you, but she didn't know your name, or rather, she didn't know who your name reffered to so i tried to call your mobile but it doesn't work. the other call was my mailbox/
i wish the water would stop.
i wish the water would stop.
Monday, February 05, 2007
mangina
danny gave me what might be described in various ways as a napsack, a stachel, a courier/newspaper bag, or a manbag. danny gives me lots of things and i'm always very grateful. he had already given me a good, large rucksack. too big for day to day use, probably, but perfect for a two-octave midi controller/usb audio interface (which he also gave me). so i went with this, a bag branded by 10tacle, with octopi outlined on the outside, and filled it with things my pockets couldn't hold. both my rough guide to london and my mini a-z, both pocket sized but what with everything else it made sense to keep them in my bag. with, you know, my things. my walkman (also pocket sized) and headphones (that fit a little too snugly round my neck when not in use). a couple of other books, an invisibles trade, lent to me by ed. out on monday at the bobby mcgees gig, i realised i was treating it exactly like a hand bag. picking it up, putting it down, rooting through it for stuff. pockets are great; things don't fall out of them, you can feel the items you need are there. how much stuff do i actually need to take out with me? if i need a bag to carry it all, is it too much?
i remember ex-house mate alex always took his backpack with him wherever he went, even when he had nothing to carry; he might pick up some veg on the market on his way back, or something, being the logic. i remember being criticised by a mancunian in brighton, in the toilets after a gorky's gig (curated by john peel) as a group of bag carrying southeners, having my bag with me for all the things i need for a night out; that was different. it was cold, and a backpack is something you can put your two jumpers and jacket in when you get in the venue. i like my pockets, i can fit most things in them, and even when i carry this fine napsack again, which i will, it will not be as a manbag.
and so ends the tale.
i remember ex-house mate alex always took his backpack with him wherever he went, even when he had nothing to carry; he might pick up some veg on the market on his way back, or something, being the logic. i remember being criticised by a mancunian in brighton, in the toilets after a gorky's gig (curated by john peel) as a group of bag carrying southeners, having my bag with me for all the things i need for a night out; that was different. it was cold, and a backpack is something you can put your two jumpers and jacket in when you get in the venue. i like my pockets, i can fit most things in them, and even when i carry this fine napsack again, which i will, it will not be as a manbag.
and so ends the tale.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
I want to be at luke-boo's house, playing network doom, eating chicago town mini-pizzas.
I want to be curled up in bed in a bright spring/winter morning, watching cd:uk with marion.
I want a full-on Hollywood panic attack, writhing on the ground outside my suburban detached house looking like bill neighy, in a dressing gown, while paramedics fit me with an oxygen tank and the camera moves away and upwards, surveying the emotional carnage which is all just a set, you can tell because it's all to clean.
They think I'm stupid here. I accidentally dropped one private folder into another, and couldn't move it back. I went and reported it to the IT guys, and watched poke around a bit to fix it, which I could have done instantly if only I had the permissions. My mouse didn't work – the buttons or anything – and the same man came and cleaned the dust off the track wheel (which wouldn't explain why the buttons hadn't been working, or why sometimes it had a fit), and it was fine.
I *am* stupid here. I can't think. I miss simple things, forget what all this paper is for. I'm terrified of the responsibility of delegating to this other temp finding things for someone else to do. when an error page came up on the internet, I was terrified that those techie guys had noticed my inherent flitting over to see stuff, a low attention span is a habit I've always had. things drift to the bottom of the pile until they're irrelevant, sometimes if you do ignore things for long enough, they go away, like survivors in dead rising.
I want to be curled up in bed in a bright spring/winter morning, watching cd:uk with marion.
I want a full-on Hollywood panic attack, writhing on the ground outside my suburban detached house looking like bill neighy, in a dressing gown, while paramedics fit me with an oxygen tank and the camera moves away and upwards, surveying the emotional carnage which is all just a set, you can tell because it's all to clean.
They think I'm stupid here. I accidentally dropped one private folder into another, and couldn't move it back. I went and reported it to the IT guys, and watched poke around a bit to fix it, which I could have done instantly if only I had the permissions. My mouse didn't work – the buttons or anything – and the same man came and cleaned the dust off the track wheel (which wouldn't explain why the buttons hadn't been working, or why sometimes it had a fit), and it was fine.
I *am* stupid here. I can't think. I miss simple things, forget what all this paper is for. I'm terrified of the responsibility of delegating to this other temp finding things for someone else to do. when an error page came up on the internet, I was terrified that those techie guys had noticed my inherent flitting over to see stuff, a low attention span is a habit I've always had. things drift to the bottom of the pile until they're irrelevant, sometimes if you do ignore things for long enough, they go away, like survivors in dead rising.
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