Get out of here with that watch, lay off the poor beavers will ya?!

1959

I'm just taking a pause from watching a programme about jazz in 1959, as Heather is drying her hair and we're going to the library soon, but here's a link:

1959: The Year That Changed Jazz.

It's really pretty great so far. I love BBC Four, pretty much everything on there is worth watching. I wish I had the time to just sit and watch educational programmes all day long, but alas, I must go and write my journals today. I also still have quite a lot of my portfolio to finish for creative writing, as well as an essay which explains my work. I had a go at the cut up technique the other day, and I think it went quite well (watch previous William Burrough video for explanation of cut up).

This is kind of a classic performance of So What, a Mile Davis track which features John Coltrane in the band on sax:



Enjoy.

You also invented homos!

We attended The Only Fun In Town last night, which was being hosted on the same night as "Ned and Emo night" at the union, an event which was sure to make my blood boil. Whenever I go to the union I try to keep an open mind about the other people who go there, but they sure make it difficult.

Practically everyone attending went as a "ned", presumably because they relished the chance to dress in the regalia of their spiritual ancestors, and those few people who did go as "emos" were dressed like gay ravers. Seriously, we're talking black tank tops, red ties on collarless black t-shirts, black armbands around biceps, mascara etc.

Also, when I went to the toilet, two cockmunchers obviously picked me out as an outsider to their carnival of idiocy, and turned the lights off. So I was groping around in the pitch blackness (there are no windows), when someone else came in and turned the light back on. I was like "Someone turned the light off when they went out", to which he responded, in a really smarmy voice "Oh yeah, sure, like you didn't do it yourself". In a fit of extreme manliness, I quipped back "Oh yeah, I did it myself, because I enjoy stumbling around in the dark you stupid prick", and walked out.

Zing!

There was also an awful lot of people touting various candidate t-shirts, hanging around in groups of differing political allegiance. I've noticed a somewhat more lackadaisical approach to canvassing this year, which hasn't involved screaming at people outside of the union like apes at a zoo (at least to our notice). Also, a lot of the policies seem pretty half-hearted and pointless (although that has been a feature of previous campaigns); for example, two separate candidates are promising to start a Facebook page. Surely that isn't something which takes a lot of time or effort?

EDIT:

Just wanted to show you this guy's campaign poster (there are quite a few bad ones, but this might be the worst this year):



I may be wrong about this, because I'm sure there have been some pretty awful ones in the past, but I think "Don't be a Focker, Vote for Cocker" might be the worst slogan of all time.

As for the policies, this is one of the Facebook people; the other two policies are pointless, because I seriously doubt that a change in the legal drinking age is even going to happen, and even if it does it wouldn't be in the year that this guy is "Honorary Secretary" (a meaningless job title if ever I heard one), and even if it did happen this year, just what is this guy going to do about it? I suppose the Government/Council are going to cancel all plans for the law change and start running the other way once they hear that Cocker's on the case.

And it's wrapped up nicely with "Get Your Cocker Out!" Christ, are we living in a 1960s Carry On film?

(EDIT 2 - I took out some of the nastier stuff in this rant - I often get carried away with this sort of thing, and as readers can probably tell from Gary Cocker's post (if it is indeed Gary Cocker), he isn't a nasty guy. His campaign poster is still clearly misled, but it obviously got him elected, so what do I know? /EDIT 2)

/EDIT.

But anyway, we didn't stay too long for fear of getting terminally drunk, and so we went home and watched Ghost World instead, which was pretty great. Here's a clip:



While that clip kind of makes it look like a dumbass teen movie of sorts, it wasn't, but there are some pretty funny bits in it. Also, there's a great opening clip of a Bollywood dance routine, which I found in full, as the song is pretty damn catchy:



The film is pretty different from the comic; Seymour (played by the awesome Steve Buscemi) is kind of just a minor character in the book, while he plays a major part in the film. Also, in many ways the movie is a lot more depressing in an obvious way, rather than mildly melancholic, which is how I'd describe the comic. But I enjoyed it nonetheless.

This has been quite lengthy/ranty.

Oh yeah...

These words are not premature.

I'm attempting to read Naked Lunch again, which I can only really do at night, when I'm tired, otherwise I find my brain tries too hard to understand what is going on. At night the words and images just wash over me, and I'm left with an impression of what has happened, who the characters are, what is being referred to etc.

Here's a video about the cut up technique, which has an interview with Burroughs and Ginsberg, who shows up at the end:



And some other great artists:



And that is all for today.

Brother, can you spare a dime?

Post-colonialism was a lot better today. The first hour or so was pretty awful, but I asked if I could go for a coffee before the second half started, which everyone seemed to appreciate, and things went a lot better when I came back. Gail also returned my seminar report, which I think I got a B2 for, although I can't remember now... She said I was coasting, as my class responses were better than my essay, which made me pleased and worried at the same time.

It isn't particularly hot today, but it's been nice the last few days, which always has a hip hop effect on my music tastes. I ordered a Talib Kweli album recently, as well as Madvillainy, but neither of them have arrived yet unfortunately. I know I posted some hip hop in my last blog, and I know that no one else (who reads this, at least) even likes it, but here's a short playlist of interesting tracks (in Youtube format, to make them slightly more interesting):











That's all for today, I need to go and try and wake up Heather.

We was sittin' out on the step, you know...

What a nice day!

Played basketball for a bit with Alex yesterday, but ended up totally freezing my ass off - guess I underestimated just how cold it would get. Would have been nice to have some music, might have to see if I can get hold of a really cheap CD player if we're going to make it a regular thing during the summer. 

Had a really awful headache for the past couple of days as well, which might be a bit worrying, but it seems to be a bit better today. Poor Heather had to put up with my whinging last night, and ended up having to make tea even though I said I'd do it. 

Probably spend today tidying up, and might go to the library later and get out of Heather's way while she does her dissertation, if my head feels better.

Strange, but true?

Anyone else remember this programme? Along with X-Files, it was vital viewing for any intrepid young ghost hunter. The only one I actually remember vividly was an episode where this guy sees someone indentical to him driving an identical van at a crossroads, but I can't seem to find that on Youtube.

I wanted to find a suitable clip, and the first one I've found seems to contain the right creepy/stupid ratio, although most of the creepiness comes from the ghost saying he is "lying on top of Janet" (one of the little girls), rather than in the believability of the poltergeist.



It's quite long but it's worth it to hear the end, when the "ghost" starts talking. The actual recording where he apparently talks is bizarre, because Boris Gross (that's his actual name, also check the tash), the guy apparently investigating the poltergeist, hears a dog barking and then says "My name is Boris, say my name", or something like that, and then you hear this really stupid, gruff "ghost" voice in response, saying "BORIS!". Why would you say "my name is Boris, say my name" if you heard a dog bark?

The bit with the pictures is funny too, because they're clearly just jumping off the bed. Also, I'll be amazed if it was medical practise to give little girls valium to help them sleep in the 70s.

Man, the crazy thing is I actually remember being scared by this programme. Kids will get scared by anything.

Tomorrow I think we're going to go play basketball; Matthew, if you read this, I haven't asked you yet but that includes you.

That's enough for today methinks.

Keep watching the skies!

It's snow fun!

[gallery]

Pictures by Heather Minto.

Mr Sheen Shine Sheen Shine Sheen Sheen!

Today has been a day off for Heather, so we went to town and got rid of some of the expendable cash that we have piled up in the corners of our room. I bought The Heart of Saturday Night (I know, so soon after the last Tom Waits album I bought. But it's probably best to take advantage of the Zavvi sale before they sort their shit out and start selling things at hiked prices again), and Arsenic and Old Lace, which is one damn crazy film. It's lucky I'd heard it was good, and it's directed by Frank Capra, because if I saw the box without knowing what it was I never would have bought it. It has a really silly picture of Cary Grant running with the broad who plays his wife on his shoulder in a fireman's lift, and the title is pretty cheesy sounding. Cary Grant seems to be pretty much playing a straight comedy character, which is odd because he usually plays a smartass/hunk character, but it's full of him pulling stupid faces and falling over stuff. It also has Peter Lorre in it also, who is one of my favourite character actors. Here's a good bit:



Tomorrow we're planning to dress up, take pictures, dress normal, go to Broughty Ferry, take pictures, go to Dobbies and then come home.

The title of the blog tonight is what Heather thought the lyrics were for this:



Where it says "Mr Sheen shines umpteen things clean", she thought it was "Mr Sheen shine sheen shine sheen sheen!"

That's for all for this eve, cheerio!

Buzzards and dreadful crows

Langston Hughes is a great poet... I think I may have some of his poems in one of the Penguin Modern Poet books that I bought in Darlington. I studied him a little when I was doing an essay for American literature last year, but I should probably go back to him and have another look. Here's The Negro Speaks of Rivers:



So, yesterday I went and sorted out my new CV at the library, which I promptly posted off to Heather's work to so if I could try and get a job with her, which would be pretty awesome. We worked pretty well together in France, which was in extremely stressful circumstances, so it should be good to play games and paint pictures again. I really hope I get the job. If not, at least I'm ready to apply for some more now.

I guess I don't actually have a lot to say today... I'm pretty hungry, so I think I'll go get some breakfast. Here's Son House:



Bye!

Murder in Mesopotamia

It's been a while, so here is a couple very different paintings by the same artist, Kazimir Malevich. The first is a cubist painting - my understanding of cubism thus far is that it takes an object or scene, breaks it up into geometric shapes, and uses these shapes to represent the object from several different angles:

Bureau and Room (1913):



The second, which is the one that I was really looking for (but decided to post the first also, just as a contrast), is a monochrome painting. Monochrome is interesting, because it was so short lived (obviously there is only so much you can say with a lack of colour), and because it is both completely interpretative and completely non interpretative at the same time - that is to say, it's an almost blank canvas which almost any meaning can be projected onto, and at the same time nothing can be suggested by it.

White on White (1918):



It's also interesting that, while Bureau and Room seems to have so much more going on in it, White on White is the later painting, and is therefore something that Malevich has worked towards.

Personally I think I prefer looking at Bureau and Room; it's very striking. But White on White is very relaxing, and stylistically interesting.

Anyway, Heather needs to get one with some work, so I'm sure that's enough blundering around for one evening.

Goodnight.

You ignoramus!

Today has been strange. I got up very early for a 9am class, which usually makes the day feel extra long, but I've been for two naps. So it feels like I was actually at class yesterday, rather than earlier today.

My class was very irritating this morning. I was awfully tired, but the easiest way to stay awake and quicken the two hours (without break) is just to talk as much as possible - but what's so annoying is that:

A) Hardly anyone else says anything.

B) This gives Gail Low (the tutor) the opportunity to talk AT EXTREME LENGTH, about very obscure postcolonial critics, texts etc, boring everyone stupid. She also finishes every rant with a sort of theoretical question, which is supposed to be for discussion, however...

C) All anybody ever does say when she poses such a question is "yes, I agree". Which is irritating, because it shows they clearly have no idea what she's talking about, and that they have no opinion whatsoever about anything discussed. For example, the very people who were saying last week that they liked the film Daughters of the Dust because it didn't deal with slavery explicitly, and was more aesthetic and poetic and whatever, were saying about Anil's Ghost that it was too aesthetic and poetic and that they'd much prefer if the author just explicitly stated facts about the war, because it "gets them interested" and presumably is less confusing for them because they don't have to deal with subtext, symbolism and all that jazz.

Which is ridiculous! Why even take English, why not take journalism? If you're so interested in completely factual accounts, better to stick to factual writing, rather than bother with people who try and reimagine something in a creative way - heaven forbid that an author should have an individual creative vision. 

It should really annoy me that people are stupid and apathetic, but it makes listening to their opinions both difficult and extremely dull. 

But anyway, enough ranting about nonsense, here's the Black Keys:



Started listening to them again this morning after a long break. It's nice to occasionally step back from a band that you probably listen to too much, makes you appreciate them more. 

I'd like to post a painting, or a poem, or something, because I feel the high art/low are balance is started to get a little... well, unbalanced. But it's hard to think, as I'm reading Half of a Yellow Sun at the moment, rather than any poetry or books about art or whatever. So instead, I urge you to check out Heather's blog, as she posted some lovely photographs this morning when she was too tired to do any work.

And check out Ed's for a picture of me and Heather eating breakfast.

Toodle pip!

Edit: I just saw Matthew's blog and I was reminded of this:

Wet weather music.

Lord Edgeware must die.

Before I knew where I was...

I was watching some skate videos yesterday, which I tend to enjoy based on what music is playing in the background, rather than from any appreciation of what's actually happening on screen. That's not to say I don't enjoy watching people skateboard, and occasionally getting hurt, but that doesn't mean I ever have any idea what's going on, or why people are shouting and screaming about someone grinding a pole or whatever. But it's usually a nice form of music video. I understand rollerblading even less, but here's one with a particularly awesome backing track:



I just spend the best part of half an hour looking for a good Pavement video, because I'm playing Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain almost non stop at the moment, but eventually decided on this instead, just to show I'm still down with the kids.

I went to the library yesterday and got some work done in solitude, which was good; should be going again later, but my parents are also coming over to look for safari stuff in preperation for a trip to Kenya. No, seriously. Everyone know that Dundee is the safari capital of the world and all the great explorers come here to gear up before heading out on the savannah.

My auntie called this morning as well, I felt kind of bad because I pretty much had to tell her not to bother coming over because I was too busy. Usually I like to encourage her to think that I'd rather see her than my mum (and, in a way, I like my mum to think that too, because it makes her feel jealous and then I tend to get more free money etc). But I do have rather a lot of shit to be getting on with.

Here's a clip from a film Matthew and I were watching last night - it's worth watching just for the end, where Vincent Price tells his guards to give someone 5 gold coins for the "entertaining jest" of burning someone alive in a monkey suit:



Cheerio!

Me with my belt wrapped around my head, and you just sittin' there

Yeah, another new theme. I wanted to have a little tagline that read "mixing high art and low art into a disgusting paste", because I'm an asshole and I think that sounds cool and witty, but the last theme didn't seem to have a facility for such a subtitle, so I switched.

I'm a sucker for the little details.

This is what's going to happen now that the filthy liberals are in power in America:



Although the dude has a point - I'm always praying to Jesus to bring me junk and I never get diddly.

Notice how they don't have him say that Jesus can't send them candy because he doesn't exist? They make out that Communists secretly know that Jesus is real, but just try and brainwash everyone into thinking he doesn't so that they'll worship Castro. Also, Castro!? Wouldn't Lenin or Marx be more appropriate? And what's with the Nazi costumes?

Jeeze, I must be delusional to try and make sense of this stuff.



This one has better accents - the hillbilly martyr has a voice which practically justifies the way he acts. Not sure what the "Communist" is going for here, but I agree the kid is a "stupid little fool". I'd dance on a picture of Jesus any day, without even being threatened by beheading if I don't.

Anyway, that's enough silliness for today, but much more can be found by searching for "Estus Pirkle" on youtube - He's the crazy asshole who produces all this crap.

Dasvidania, comrades!

Wow, that's fast!

So Heather and I were listening to Cat's Pyjamas, and it reminded me of Bugsy Malone:





It's always hilarious to see child actors singing in deep adult voices. Both of these videos are pretty hilarious/creepy, the second being slightly more homoerotic (I dunno, maybe not, but there's a lot of nudity and the kid holding the punch bag who says "Wow, that's fast!" is pretty damn camp). I'm always scared to admit that I like this film, because there's clearly some pretty dodgy stuff in there, but it was part of my childhood, so that makes it OK.

In fact, it went beyond childhood, into teenage years, because for some reason they used to show us this film all the time in class... Pretty much anytime a teacher was sick, or it was the end of term, or whoever was taking the class just couldn't be bothered, or if it was Social Education, this film got put on. This and About a Boy, which somehow makes a lot more sense than Bugsy Malone. At least About a Boy has a message of tolerance, and Hugh Grant is pretty family friendly, but Bugsy Malone is just kind of bizarre.

Also, I wrote a couple of poems again tonight, so that's good. If they don't get used in my portfolio, I'll post them, or I'll post them once I'm past the suspicion of plagiarism stage.

Anyway, second post of the night so I'm sure that's quite enough.

Smell ya later!

No, but surely it was obvious? Hm?

I bought Closing Time today - another step down the slippery slope of obsession. I like it, but it's a lot less weird than his later stuff, more melodic and less experimental. It's like he's working in reverse to anyone else; most artists might start off experimental and then drift into bar tunes that your dad would like, but Tom Waits seems to have done things the other way round.

While I was in town, I once again ventured into Superdrug to buy some cherry coke, but this time left in disgust without buying anything. I was waiting in the queue, and when I got to the front I walked over to one of the women behind the checkout, who said in a very angry voice:

"I'm not on right now, GO TO THE TILL OVER THERE!"

So I just dumped my coke and walked out. It was totally passive aggressive and needless to shout at me like that - why was she even standing behind the counter if she wasn't serving anyone? If she wanted to skive, why not hang around in the back of the store, or pretend to stock shelves or whatever?

So no cherry coke for me, which I decided was probably a good thing anyway.

Anyway, I need a pee, so to wrap up here's a video of The Ink Spots singing If I Didn't Care, in a sort of musical, ad hoc, every day situation sort of fashion (which is kind of bizarre. Are they singing to each other?):



Goodbyeeeee!

Mad dogs of summer

Over there on the right hand side there's a link to Aquarium Drunkard, who have just recently posted a great article on Tom Waits which includes a full session by him for Folkscene from 1974 (somewhere between his first and second album), along with interviews. I didn't get much of a chance to listen to it, but it sounds pretty good so far.

It's strange, I don't check Aquarium Drunkard everyday, but when I do they always seem to have posted something relating to what I'm listening to at the moment. Previously it's been Bob Dylan, Pavement... and a few others, I can't really remember now. Perhaps there's a psychic link.

This blog really is at risk of becoming a Tom Waits appreciation society. With one member.

Here's a great video of a cartoon version of Cab Calloway singing St James Infirmary:



I used to have it on my Myspace but it disappeared, so I guess somebody must have re-posted it. Check it out before it disappears again. I don't know anything about the cartoon beyond what's written in the little description box, but I love Cab Calloway and this clip is great, and genuinely slightly creepy.

Just to round this crazy ride off, and as I'm feeling generous with videos this eve, here's Cab singing Minnie the Moocher in Blues Brothers:



Toodle pip!

Mad dogs of summer

Mr Godfrey Norton, dark, handsome and dashing.

I'm not entirely sure if this was a video actually authorised by the band (that sounds so formal and official) or not, but it's a pretty cool video nonetheless, and a great song.

I was thinking about Women because Heather asked if Clash had actually put the last interview I did with them online yet, which they haven't. I'm very sick of Clash by this point, but it's unlikely that I'll stop writing for them because:

A) It's good practise.

B) Free CDs, many of which are pretty excellent (Women, for example).

C) The possibility of a reference.

So even if my pride is constantly being injured, common sense (and Heather) tell me to stick at writing for them. If they'll let me now, I haven't done any reviews for them for a while.

I went to class this morning only to find that there was some class about carbon or something in the room where mine should have been... Very suspicious. Also, the people sitting down inside shut the door in my face, at the behest of the tutor. I was too tired to be indignant though.

I went to my 4 hour creative writing workshop also, which was a mixed bag of enjoyment, productivity and extreme annoyance. But I think I wrote a pretty cool piece, it's very atmospheric and kinda scary, so it's something I might try working on again.

Anyway, carrying on the theme of posting random artworks that I greatly admire, as I fumble around trying to get some sense of what I've been missing by focussing entirely on literature for the last 4 years or whatever, here's a well known and perhaps lesser known work by Rene Magritte:

The Song of the Violet:



The Treachery of Images:



The first is related to the Jackson Pollock I posted the other day in that the primary colour used is grey, which could also be said to be the absence of colour. Magritte's petrification images are pretty cool - part of his way of making you look at something everyday in a different light. To me, these men in suits seem lifted to the status of something eternal and natural, rather than simply being business men that you can see in any street (well, in the 1950s anyway, dressed like that).

The second is obviously the more famous one - the texts translates as "This is not a pipe", ie, it is an image of a pipe rather than an actual pipe. No matter how close to realism you come in painting, you never capture the actual object - painting, and poetry, are lies.

Ah fack, I was trying to find a poem to post at the end but it's taking too long - I was looking for something by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gregory Corso or Ginsberg, but I could only find poems about bombs. Maybe I'll find something for next time, for now it's getting pretty late.

Cheery bye!

What the devil are you doing sir!?

Frank O'Hara:



As I decided (temporarily) to study the New York School of poetry instead of Virginia Woolf,

partly because I didn't want a certain tutor to think that he had an influence on my learning,

partly because I thought that they may be similar and therefore comparable to the Beats,

partly because (thanks Frank) I wanted to do something a bit different, I discovered the wonderful poetry of Mr. O'Hara, which is frankly mesmerising in its blend of everyday occurrences and allusions to high art, and in its blend of fantasy and realism. He didn't live very long (he died at 40), so the poetry he did leave should be cherished; check out his website for a couple of other videos and written examples of his work:

Frank O'Hara.

Thanks also to the New York poets, I got into having a look at a few painters, abstract expressionist to be more precise (abstract expressionism being a major movement in New York during the 1950s, about the time that old Frank was working at the Museum of Modern Art). Jackson Pollock is probably the most famous of the abstract expressionists, with his "drip paintings" which he created by putting the canvas on the floor and standing over it. It has a very striking effect:



This painting, entitled "Greyed Rainbow", has bright colours obscured by masses of grey - making it literally a greyed out rainbow. You can see where the name "abstract expressionism" comes from, right? Jackson Pollock is a pretty interesting guy, so look him up.

Anyway, that's enough pretense that I have any real understanding of high art for one day.

I'm very excited, because Ed is attempting poetry... Call me arrogant and presumptious, but I can helping thinking (or at least hoping) that he might have been reading my blog and it inspired him to have a go hero. So check that out on his blog, and check out Heather's blog for a picture of my ugly mug, and check out Matthew's blog for some more hilarity.

That's more than enough for today, I think I'll kill some brain cells with beer and Mass Effect.

Cheerio!