Deft as a brush

The wisdom of youth meets the vitality of old age.

2007-01-11T00:55:00.000Z

I doubt whether anyone would choose to hold a party on a Wednesday in the second week of January. Maybe that's why Capricorns, according to astrologers, are grounded, hard working and pretty dull. How wild can you go when everyone's skint from Christmas, still bothering with their New Year resolutions and got exams? How can that not affect your attitude to enjoyment and celebration? Anyway, today I reached the patently ridiculous age of twenty-nine. Is it just me, or does that sound so much worse than thirty? Any age with nine on the end, after nineteen, just sounds like you're lying. "Forty-nine again, Mr Mitchell?". It sounds desperate. But I'm not going to mope (although I've every right to, it being my birthday and all). Ten years ago, due to circumstances entirely of my own making, the odds on me making it this far looked pretty fucking long. In fact, I'm on course to be in much better shape at thirty than I was at twenty. So hooray for me.

The last time Everton won the league I was nine. You do the maths (it's got a fucking "s" on the end). If they win it again before I'm dead, I'll be very happy. And monkeys may well emerge from my rectum.

Guest contributor- Tommy Lee

2007-01-07T19:10:00.000Z

Dude, we so totally would have won if hadn't been for that goddam referee, man. I been to Chelsea. It ain't all that. And no way on earth are you gonna tell me that was a clear goal scoring opportunity. Maybe for Pele or one of those cats, but we're talking Andriy Shevchenko here, dude. The mother couldn't hit a steer's ass with a cowbell. And I never even touched the sumbitch. Red card my ass!

Waddaya mean, different Tommy Lee? You yankin my crank??

Nature is boss.

2006-12-29T18:51:00.000Z

A captive African Grey parrot has amazed researchers by displaying a huge vocabulary and the ability to contextualise words and phrases, as well as a sense of humour. When it met Jane Goodall it asked her "Got a chimp?"

This pales in comparison to the storytelling ability shown by a captive male Gorilla (mate of the more famous but less communicative Coco), who was able to describe memories of being taken from his family in the jungle, arriving in America, and how he felt about it, using sign language.

In tests to determine levels of primate intelligence, Orang Utans have been seen picking locks with screwdrivers, which they hide when a keeper comes into view. Is anything more human than deceit?

A Leatherback Turtle that had been electronically tagged was shown to have swum over 8000 miles, from South America to the coast of Cornwall, then back to lay eggs. Male Leatherbacks never leave the ocean, and simply swim around the world their entire lives.

Ravens can repeat words and use basic tools.

A Right Whale's penis is twelve feet long and prehensile. A Giraffe's is four feet long with an elbow-like joint in the middle. When Herring spawn, the sperm forms a thick layer on the surface of the water which can spread across miles of coastline like a huge yellow oil slick.

Komodo Dragons can tell when a Deer is due to give birth and will follow it around until it does, then scoff the baby. And the mother.

Some people find wildlife boring. There is a word for these people, but I decided a while ago I wasn't going to use it on here.

Sick

2006-12-17T22:13:00.000Z

I finally went to the Natural History Museum. It's amazing. The giant sloth skeleton alone would be worth the admission price, if it wasn't free. Easily the best thing I've seen in my life. One gripe though. In a small display called "how you can help the environment" or some shit, a list of green businesses and charities. Among them, British Airways. What, I wonder, could BA possibly be doing to offset the monumental environmental damage that their business by it's nature causes every day? It must be something pretty huge for them to compensate for causing more air pollution and ozone depletion than any other mode of transport, for encouraging the building of yet more runways over Britain's precious grasslands and marshes, for killing birds indiscriminately on every flight. To make up for all this, plus enough on top for them to be listed as a Green organisation. Wow. But further information was not forthcoming in the museum, in any of the literature I picked up, or later on either the NHM or BA's websites. Then I came outside and saw it. The Natural History Museum- primary sponsor, British Airways. Make no mistake, this is on a par with "The Sun presents A History of Feminist Art" or "The Holocaust Museum sponsored by IBM". It sticks in my craw so it does. On a similar note, have you seen "Extinct" on ITV? OMG. Can that joke of television channel not produce anything that doesn't include crap celebrities and a telephone vote? Coming soon- "A Matter of Life and Death". Who will win the jackpot and receive life saving treatment, who will be performing for the final time? Will it be Jade Goody's teenage leukemia sufferer, or Jake from Hollyoaks's AIDS patient- that's good AIDS of course.
Just you wait, it will happen.

Sorry if this post doesn't read very well. I'm knackered.

Death to false religion (and metal, obviously)

2006-11-09T13:55:00.000Z

"I cannot forgive Descartes. In all his philosophy he would have been quite willing to dispense with God. But he had to make Him give a fillip to set the world in motion; beyond this, he has no further need of God."- Blaise Pascal

This is, essentially, why I despise the theory of Intelligent Design so much. Not only is it appalling non-science, horribly misleading and dangerously backward, but it also implies a very unpleasant approach to religion. God is supposed to be something you love, something you worship, not something to be used to your own dubious ends, to be crudely squeezed into other peoples learning patterns in a blunderingly primitive "God of the gaps" type way. "There are gaps in the fossil record, therefore God must exist"? If one were to feel the need to justify their religious beliefs to others (something I still don't understand), surely a statement such as "I feel God acting upon my life in such an overwhelming way I can scarcely believe it- I see him moving in every living thing and feel his love filling me with courage and comfort every day of my life- therefore God must exist" would be better? This cold reductionist approach to spirituality implies no actual belief whatsoever. When Richard Dawkins speaks of Darwin and evolution, he does so with conviction and passion and yes, love. That is a true belief, something conspicuously absent from the writings of the vaguely sinister Intelligent Design Network and their allies. If you love God, love him- stop restricting and manipulating him, and please stop this ridiculous anthropomorphism. It does nobody any favours.

On an almost completely unrelated note, I've noticed that the staff at Co-op in Frodsham are always incredibly happy and friendly. I reckon they either enjoy extremely good working conditions or are partaking in a post-menopausal dalliance with Ecstasy. Either way I want in.

A contradiction in terms?

2006-10-19T23:13:00.000Z

Intelligent Design is not a directly religious concept, but it has been appropriated by religious fundamentalists desperate to discredit evolutionary theory and drag their own beliefs into the realm of scientific acceptance through the back door. ID could be called a scientific theory, but only in as much as some even more hypothetical scenarios are posited in genuine scientific enquiry. It's science with an exceptionally small "s", so much so that without the aid of a telescope it looks like "cience". At heart, it is a philosophy and as such does not bear comparison to any form of evolutionary theory. Intelligent Design cannot be used to discredit evolution, or vice versa. I am not confusing ID with creationism, although the two have become inextricably and perhaps unfortunately entwined. Exponents of ID or creationism will continually point out that there are many holes in Darwinian theory. This is true. Darwin did not have the last, or first, word on evolution, but he and his contemporaries uncovered a proven and demonstrable scientific truth. We don't know everything about evolution, but we know that it happens. It is fact.

Of course there is no reason why anyone, Christian or otherwise, would need to discredit Darwin. There is no problem believing that God created the universe whilst acknowledging that we evolved over time due to a process of natural selection. The two beliefs come from entirely different schools and indeed planes of thought, and nobody with a certain and unshakable belief in God should find it threatened by human advances in self-knowledge. Conversely, it is just as disingenuous to say that there can be no God because the earth is billions of years old as it is to say that evolution cannot happen because God made the world in seven days.

I wonder if Slayer's latest album "Christ Illusion" would make a good soundtrack to Richard Dawkins' new book "The God Delusion"? Dawkins annoys me at times, he comes across as a bit too much of a crusader and tends to overlook the bigger picture in his quest to discredit any form of religious belief (to wit: his debunking of the Lourdes miracles. Why? Does he go around telling children that Santa isn't real as well?). In that sense his arguments tend toward the same basic errors as the creationists he so deplores. However, he is one of the few public figures mounting a reasoned and informed challenge to the depressing climate of theocracy pervading global current affairs, and for that is to be wholeheartedly applauded.

Why am I going on about science and religion? I don't know. It must be said that both fascinate and frustrate me. Nobody is more blinkered than a supposed scientist whose research is conducted for the sole purpose of giving credence to his already determined opinions. This is happening everywhere, and is becoming ever more prevalent with the expansion of corporate-funded research. It is the opposite of knowledge, the antithesis of discovery. It can only serve to make us less informed. But maybe that's what "they" want, depending of course on who you imagine "them" to be.

Sometimes it's better not to.

2006-10-19T14:33:00.000Z

Hot Club de Paris are from Liverpool, and therefore are "cheeky" and sound like the La's and the Coral. They also sound exactly like the Futureheads, because they shout a bit. They have funny song titles and do barbershop harmonies, this makes then quirky. I quite like the album but I can't be bothered to listen to it more than twice.

Above is my application to work for every music magazine in Britain. Apart from Mojo which is the last stronghold of quality music journalism in this country. No sniggering at the back.

Woe

2006-10-19T14:25:00.000Z

I'm a bit upset. I failed to get the job that I so desperately wanted. The one that's been the basis of all my "future fantasies" for the last two or three months. On the upside, I've got a Christmas job at Argos. I know that's an upside, but it sure doesn't feel like one. Working at Argos is definitely better than being on the dole, but it doesn't feel better, and it doesn't even sound better. After all my efforts to find a job I actually want to do (for the first time in my life, ever) "retail assistant" is a much more depressing title to be lumbered with than "job seeker", which at least has a note of hope to it. I should take solace in the other word that comprises my job title- "temporary".

God is like scissors

2006-10-16T22:52:00.000Z

Things happen. It strikes me that one of the most peculiar conceits of the human race is a refusal to believe in random chance. This is the downfall of many, as they end up feeling wronged all the time. Waiting for Kharma to sort everything out and wondering why it never does. Everything does not happen for a reason. I'm not sure whether I believe in God or not (and if I was I wouldn't tell you), but I am certain that I believe in random chance. Is it not possible to believe in both? I suppose one could worship random chance itself, although what would be point? Random chance doesn't need your approval and I find it quite bizarre that so many people feel the need to posit a God that does. The universe does not have it in for you, no matter how shitty your luck's been. The universe does not give a fuck. I know that many of you find that concept more scary.

I'm not anti-religious by any means... I believe that everyone has the right to live and worship as they choose and all that gay stuff. I just wish people would be- how should I put this- quieter about it. What with Islamic fundamentalists and the USA (a nation that's heading toward a theocracy more totalitarian than any Muslim country) wouldn't it be nice if more political attention, time and money were devoted to people who's beliefs are, well, rational? It's been nearly 150 years since Darwin's "Origin of Species" was published, paving the way for a school of thought that is supposed to have blown the cobwebs of theocracy from man's collective eyes, leading to an age of enlightenment, questioning, re-evaluating our beliefs. Yet in so many ways the world is still run according to superstition and folklore. It's not religion itself that should have been swept aside, but this stifling, violent and wasteful fundamentalism. If you can't be trusted with God, it really is best to leave him alone.

The only sane response to these times is to bellow along to Slayer. But then that's always been the case.

Tits

2006-02-03T17:09:00.000Z

I see that Channel 4 is pushing ahead with its mission to utterly disreguard its remit with the informative and worthwhile documentary Extraordinary Breastfeeding (presumably a last minute decision was made to drop the word "extreme"). I guess most people who tuned in did so to gawp at the freakshow of nine year olds still guzzling Mummy's moo-juice, but personally I felt the defining point of the program was a mother asking her recently-weaned two year old if he wanted a glass of cow's milk. Of course he doesn't,woman! The lad only knows of one method of obtaining milk and as far he's concerned you've just invited him to suck a cow.

Not

2006-02-03T17:05:00.000Z

Then GBV tribute is no longer going ahead on the 11th March. It will happen, hopefully sometime around the end of April. Apologies for any inconvenience (including but not limited to despair, emptiness, confusion, suicide, sexual misadventures) that this may cause.

I've got the Gee Bee Vee Bees

2006-01-22T18:22:00.000Z

On Sat 11th March, a tribute to the late, great Guided By Voices will take place at the Korova, Fleet St, Liverpool. This will consist of several happening bands performing the music of GBV, as well as top DJs (alright, probably me) playing GBV and GBV related tunes. And maybe some other stuff too. Anyway, it's going to be a unique experience and a massive bargain to boot, so anyone with a fondness for Mr Pollard, or who just likes good music, should piarly cart their arse on down. Also, a couple more acts are still needed, so if anyone reading this is in or knows of a band that might want to take part (some hope), please contact me at badcolouringram@yahoo.co.uk

Rant- you decide

2006-01-22T18:11:00.000Z

I do enjoy ranting. I consider it not just a pleasure, but my duty. There are so many things in the world that are terribly wrong, and can only be put right by someone on a seldom-visited webpage using awfully clever language to ladle on the scorn. The thing is, I don't know where to begin. So I'm asking you to help me. All you need to do is tell me which of the following you'd like to see me rip to shreds next-

The Brit Awards
James Blunt
The Conservatives
Newcastle United
MTV
The Christian Right
New Labour
Cats
Straight edgers
The Lib Dems
Animal Rightsists
Myself

Rant

2006-01-07T20:09:00.000Z

The Turkish authorities are having difficulty carrying out a cull of poultry after an outbreak of bird flu in the Kurdish region of the country.

Interestingly, they've never had any trouble culling the Kurdish people.

Rant

2006-01-07T20:01:00.000Z

Moby, notorious environmental campaigner and animal rights activist, has booked himself a place on the first commercial space flight.

He makes his money from advertising cars, then spends it on surely the most pointless and environmentally damaging conceit ever dreamt up. And still has the brass neck to ride other people's arses about smoking and what not.

Now that the season of goodwill's officially over, I hope the fucking thing blows up.

Wild women with steaknives

2006-01-05T16:42:00.000Z

I commend myself to a death of no importance.
to the amputation of all seeking hands.
pulling, grasping, with the might of nations.
of sirens, in a never ending bloody bliss
to the death of mere savagery
and the birth of pearly, white terror.

Wild women with veins slashed and wombs spread.
singing songs of the death instinct
in voices yet unheard.
praising nothing but the promise of Death on earth.
laughing seas of grinning red, red eyes.
all washed ashore and devoured
by hard and unseeing spiders.

I commend myself to a death beyond all hope of redemption.
beyond the desire for forgetfulness.
beyond the desire to feel all things at every moment.
But to never forget.
to kill for the sake of killing.
and with a pure and most happy heart.
extoll and redeem Disease.

Diamanda Galas. Simply the wildest, rawest, most dangerous and least compromising musician currently active.

Guest Contributor- Tommy Lee

2006-01-04T15:33:00.001Z

So what's happening baby? Killer! I know I've been away for a while, dude, but there's like a total reason. I've been getting myself a education. That's right baby, T-bone enrolled at the University of Nebraska, which as far as I'm aware is the best college in America. I wanted to go to John Moores at first, dude, where Dunc goes, but it turns out they've got no cheerleaders, no frat houses, no drum troupe, and the football stadium barely holds 40,000. What the hell kinda college is that? So anyway, dude, I attended U of N, three whole weeks dude, and now there ain't shit nobody can tell the Leester about any shit, man. I studied drumming, swimming, hat wearing, co-ed volleyball, and some shit about atoms bonding or something, dude. I got it down! And don't worry, dude, cos I'm gonna be putting my education to good use. This was a chance to better myself, man, and I'm not gonna throw it away. You see, dude, all I saw everywhere at Nebraska was hot innerlectual chicks, dude, you know with the glasses and shit, and they won't go for it unless you got a education. No way. So now I'm all done learning, figure I'll take Methods of Mayhem back out on the road. College towns, dude! And the titty-cam's coming with me! Killer!

Change or die

2005-12-24T10:55:00.000Z

I'm going to be making massive changes to this blog because, frankly, it's shit. Expect the name, format and content to change in the new year, but I'll probably keep the same URL cos, you know.

Merry Christmas everyone.

The funniest things I've ever overheard

2005-11-17T15:28:00.000Z

"People go on about drink being bad for you but my Nan was an alchoholic and she lived to be fifty-five"- A young girl on the bus from Runcorn.

"Proper boss tunes at Smiths on a Thursday la" Same bus, different day.

"My band were the best in their day... it was me, Liam Gallagher, Tim Burgess and Richard Ashcroft" A massive liar in the queue for some gig in Manchester.

"...he said are you calling me a fucking fanny? I said yeah I am, well actually no, you're not a fucking fanny cos if you were a fanny I'd have shagged you and you're not worth fucking shagging" Can't remember where I heard this but it was said, unsurprisingly, by a scally.

"You big... fat... KNOBHEEEEAAAAADDD!!!!" Some woman to some bloke, heard from my window in Kensington at 3am.

"Eh, at least he supports Everton" A child playing football in the street, talking about me- no doubt in response to some less favourable comments that his playmates had been passing.

"Alright then, fuck off, fishy fanny!" A very young boy (under 10) to a girl the same age in Chester.

Oh God, where are you now?

2005-11-11T10:44:00.000Z

I have no money. My student loan has still not come in and I'm way over my overdraft limit. Despite the friendly tone that Halifax employees have taken when speaking to me, the word "blacklist" has cropped up in conversation. I have no phone cos I can't pay the bill. I'm terrified that my last rent cheque is going to bounce. If anyone would like to donate some money to the cause of keeping me alive and sheltered, please email me for my paypal details. There may be more deserving causes in the world, but they won't pay you back and I will.

Oh well, it was worth a try.

Better news- I have a really cool new house, and really cool new housemates. I'm doing alright at uni. Everton seem to be turning things around. The Ivory Billed Woodpecker has been rediscovered in Alabama.

I've been working at Oxfam in Frodsham and I have pretty much sole control over pricing the records. This very small bit of power is already starting to go to my head. If you've been in there lately then yes, that Johnny Mathis album is worth £6.99 second hand, it's on ebay for twelve in worse condition. I'm slitting me own fwoat ere, gav'ner.

Volunteer work when I'm skint- how good a person am I? See my aforementioned request for donations.

More sad news I'm afraid- Silverdollarcircle is calling it quits. It seems like he means it too, believing the blog to have run its course, which is fair play i suppose. I'd like to thank Simon for entertaining and educating me over the last three years, turning me on to some really good new music as well as supplying me with a few new readers from his frankly enormous fanbase. I hope that he'll continue to keep the masses happy with his staggeringly good style of writing.

Nuisance posts

2005-10-27T15:23:00.000Z

Mine seems to be the only blog not bedeviled by anonymous comments lying that they "love your website" and proffering links to sites flogging cures for baldness, business mentoring, pest control and endless other unwanted products. I don't want any of these people bothering me, I'm just curious as to why the ugly vision has been overlooked in this manner. I like to think it's because they know not to mess.

Two tongued cat

2005-10-17T15:52:00.000Z

This is the kind of blog I'd like to see more of. Someone with something genuinely worthwhile to offer the world. Anyone got a two-headed gerbil, or a dog with four arses? Get it online.

You'd think I'd be able to get a really vile innuendo-laden title out of the story of the two-tongued cat, but I just can't seem to word it correctly. The best I could come up with was "two tongues in your pussy", but that's too cheap even for me. Any ideas?

BCI Radio 2

2005-10-17T13:10:00.000Z

I'm gonna be on Vic McGlynn's show again tomorrow, taking part in the "champion of champions" tournament- basically the champions league of radio quiz shows. By all means listen, but don't expect too much- I am ill-prepared in the extreme.

Well done to all fans of Spurs, Charlton, Wigan and West Brom- you rock, your bosses are boss, you fully deserve to be sitting pretty. Enjoy it while it lasts. As for me, I am undone.

Thatcher at 80

2005-10-13T15:31:00.000Z

How the hell is that evil witch still alive when the likes of John Peel, Freddie, ODB, Paul Foot and Mo Mowlam were taken way before their time? Only the good die young right enough. I can understand God not wanting her but you'd think Satan could find some use for her- possibly being penetrated with hot pokers by Faulklands widows over and over again, for all eternity. Still, every year brings that day closer.

Mike Love not war

2005-10-10T20:24:00.000Z

Walking past the bar in my favourite hostelry, I heard a man announce "if Mike Love's Beach Boys were playing in my back garden I'd close the curtains". I turned and said "right on, brother". He gave me a long, cold stare, followed by a matey wink.

I done a quiz

2005-10-09T14:23:00.000Z

Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com!

Does anyone know

2005-09-26T13:03:00.000Z

how to get rid of this fucking annoying gap?

Hot tub de nasty

2005-09-26T12:49:00.000Z

My girl recommended a program to me called "Hot tub ranking", or something. It's on channel five late at night and has nothing to do with hot tubs, but involves a group of bikini clad women standing on a stage while a panel of men, annexed like caged apes, rate their various body parts. As the judging moves around the body, faces to bums to breasts etc, the males are driven into what can only be described as a rape frenzy, foaming at the mouth, beating their chests and making farmyard noises. This may sound hypocritical coming from a man with a self confessed love of video nasties and Japanese horror, but surely such overt misogyny should have been left behind with the black and white minstrels? I'm not one of those fools that is unable to appreciate irony, but I found absolutely no trace of it in this broadcast. I also failed to see how this codswallop could be described as anything other than degrading to both genders.

Round up

2005-09-26T12:32:00.000Z

It's been so long since I've done one of these that I had to relearn how to post links. The fact that I'm a computer spoff doesn't help.

Anyhoo, Paul is being nice to me, which always makes me suspicious. Danny is as active as he is handsome. Greg provides a clear illustration of the genius of George Clinton, not that it needs illustrating by the likes of him. Simon puts his finger on one of the eternal truths of life, transport and dogs. The Nook is The Nook. Helen has some really good holiday snaps, but no topless ones so don't even try it. And I never thought it was possible to literally fall off your chair laughing, but Joe's Beach Boys DVD review has proven me wrong.

Football. Soz.

2005-09-26T12:16:00.000Z

I wish Brian Clough was still alive. We need him to give a sense of perspective to Everton's recent dismal performances. "You want bloody shooting!"

Mr Moyes, I know you read this blog and far be from me to question your usually impeccable judgement, but I think it can be scientifically proved that you will never score goals with one man up front. Not when that man's James McFadden anyway.

Sticking with the sometimes beautiful game, there was an uproariously funny story in this week's sport Observer. Apparently the Gambian national under-17 side have been getting right in there of late, beating Brazil's youngsters in the recent World Youth Cup. This tournament was staged in Peru and a planeload of Gambia supporters (presumably the richest people in Gambia) were due to travel out there but missed the game due to an extremely delayed flight. So delayed was the plane that they were in danger of missing the next match as well, and would have done so had the pilot not, much to the chagrin of the Peruvian officials, faked an emergency landing. This leads us to the very interesting question- what is the biggest thing you've ever faked?

(I should point out that it was the emergency that was faked, not the actual landing).

Cysts and trysts

2005-09-17T19:54:00.000Z

On a recent jolly to the south coast I experienced something that has fundamentally shaken my beliefs about medicine, the human body and life in general. My girlfriend's mother is a licensed homeopath- when I first learned this I thought "homoeopathy, natural remedies, herbs n' shit, cool". Like most people, I was fairly ignorant about the ways of homoeopathy, not scornful or cynical, I just had no knowledge of what it involved. Anyway, I had a cyst on my neck that had been there a few years, and had grown quite large. I had seen two doctors about it and they both said it was nothing to worry about, but should I wish to have it removed it would require minor surgery. They, and I, had squeezed the shit out of it but it was quite clear that it wasn't budging without the aid of a scalpel. So Basia (pronounced "Basher"- appropriate for a women who roars through life like hurricane Katrina with a bad hangover) tells me that she can remove it through homoeopathy. I was open to giving it a go but didn't believe for a second that something so obviously physical could be removed with a few nice smelling flower remedies. It also took me aback somewhat to discover how the homeopath selects the right potion. She informed me that homoeopathy worked on the vibrations of the body, and she had to select the right remedy for me by holding my hand and waving little pill bottles in front of me, noting how my vibrations changed in approval or disapproval of the potion being offered. Cue much stifled embarrassment from me and sheer mortification from my beloved, who was if anything more cynical than me about the whole practice. Eventually, Basia decided that my body was telling her to use a different remedy from the one she would have chosen herself, and that this one would push out the cyst, rather than dissipate it. This, she informed me, might lead to it growing larger at first, and might take up to a month to fully work. The remedy she gave me consisted of one little pill, with others to be taken twice a day for a few weeks. I took the first pill she offered and politely mentioned that I had my doubts about it working, but that if it did I would be completely sold on the whole homoeopathy caper. About an hour later I was brushing my teeth ready for bed, and decided to have a little look at the cyst. I noticed a spot of white on it that wasn't there before, so gave it a little squeeze, and the whole bloody thing shot straight out! In direct contrast to what the medical profession had told me, no scalpel, no anesthetic, just one little pill and Roberts your mum's brother. Something that had taken root in my neck over the course of a good few years, removed by what can only be described as witchcraft. Vibrations are not just something dreamed up by bearded Californians sitting in sandpits- they're real.

Munkyfest memoirs

2005-08-07T19:18:00.000Z

Well well... let me be the first to thank and congratulate the munkyfest organisers on another resounding success. Voo, Tokyo Adventures and Hot Club de Paris stole top honours this year, and though the overall bill was perhaps not quite as inspired as in previous years those last three sets were nothing short of awesome. The new site in Kingsley was a massive improvement, the only problem being that although the turnout was (probably) higher than ever it looked a bit sparse in a much larger area than usual. Apart from the aforementioned acts special mention has to go to revelation of the day (for me) Umlaut, with their teasingly sensuous emo pop, and Joe Tucker's Vegetables. That's the sinister sociological humour act consisting of Joe and drummer Ruth Smith, not his testicles.

Due to misinformation/ compromised hearing I left Munkyfest under the impression that Roger Cook had died. It wasn't until this morning that I discovered the real, sad truth. Whenever a politician dies they tend to be described as "a man (or woman) of the highest principles", but in Robin Cook's case I feel this is an entirely appropriate epitath. He was not only a bastion of old fashioned Labour principles but also came to represent all that is fair and reasonable about new Labour. Not much there to represent, you might say, but there's no doubt in my mind that the party, and British politics in general, became much poorer following his resignation over the Iraq war. This loss is only magnified by his untimely death.

Slight return

2005-08-02T21:03:00.000Z

As one anachronism* all but hands in its notice, another rears its vile head in Huyton. Anyone who wasn't shocked and appalled by the murder of Anthony Walker probably should be concerned for themselves. The sheer medieval brutality of it all just chills me.

Just chills me.

I haven't been much arsed to write this blog lately, but I see I'm in good company- no fucker's been blogging these past couple of weeks. Hopefully they've all, like me, found a few better things to do with their time. Not that I'm down on the whole blog "scene", heavens no- there are far too many self-loathing twats in the world who take up vast amounts of net space explaining why the internet in general, and blogging in particular, is a completely sad waste of time. The irony is that in their case it's entirely true. Aaaanyway....

My reticence in writing of late has not been due to having nothing going on to write about- quite the opposite, in fact. But this blog has never been a diary and isn't about to become one, so a direct consequence of my life being full and exciting for the first time in eons is that I've had no time to log the wry observations with which I usually fill these pages. I'm sure that all this will change in due course, and I'll be back to three posts a week.

BTW

How dreadful is that Roll Deep song "Shake a leg"?? I'll "areba" you, you tosspot. Rest of the album bangs though. Well, most of it. "Show you" is just gorgeous, and even the potentially puke-inducing "Remember the days" is pulled off with a lot of style. A healthy sense of humour does the group plenty of favours. With the best will in the world, grime is never going to be album-based music and I get the distinct impression that the jump to cd has failed to capture much of the excitement that an act like Roll Deep would generate in a club. However, seeing as grime as a scene doesn't really exist outside London, I missed out on all the aforementioned excitement anyway. I see a pattern emerging here- too young for acid house, too provincial for grime- let's face it, the only thing I was ever any good for was metal.

*I was talking about the IRA there, in case you didn't spot it.

Guest contributor- God

2005-07-10T19:56:00.000Z

Hark unto me, my children, for verily I am pissed off. I really thought I had made myself clear the first time, but it seems I must reiterate. It's not "Thou shalt not kill unless told to", or "Thou shalt not kill unless they kill someone first", and it certainly isn't "Thou shalt kill willy nilly". It's very simple... Thou shalt NOT kill... ok? Not in my name... and not in anybody else's name either. It will not get you anywhere with me. If, for whatever reason, you do take another human life, do not be at all surprised to find yourself in hell. I tell you, there's souls down there that thought they were well in with me. I want to make sure such a misunderstanding never occurs again. So no more killing, ok? Seriously. I've had it. Peace out.

Scare stories

2005-07-06T21:22:00.000Z

I've been reading newspapers and watching Tonight with Trevor McDonald a lot lately, and I must admit I'm absolutely bricking it about the pensions timebomb. Apparently we're all going to have to work til we're 70, which is a fucker, but then we're not going to live that long anyway, because of the obesity timebomb. I'm also a bit worried about the infertility timebomb, but I'm hoping that the population timebomb might cancel it out.

Licence to kill

2005-07-05T20:51:00.000Z

If you could kill five people and get away with it, who would they be? Here's my list-

Jeremy Clarkson

Golden oldie lookin chain reaction (see what I did there?)

2005-07-03T11:10:00.000Z

Last night I saw Diana Ross in concert... I'm not going to review it, as such things are simply beyond review... let's just say it blew me away. Doesn't take much to blow me away, you might say... but bollocks, you weren't there. Her voice was way better than anyone could reasonably expect, and she didn't piss about on stage either, it was hit after hit, the most unrelenting barrage of camp genius I've been subjected to since the Misfits... she finished by telling the audience to "follow their dreams", for goodness sake... I literally could not have been more happy.

The final countdown

2005-07-01T19:36:00.000Z

Saddened though I was by the death of Richard Whitely, I found it surprising that none of our national newspapers went with the above headline to announce it. Wasted opportunity there.

Student TV will never be the same again.

In the news this week

2005-06-29T19:28:00.000Z

Joe is hilariously frank about Glastonbury, Nash needs to cut out the booze , Rafferty is a lazy fuck, Pramila is thankfully still alive, The Part That Stares is living like a savage, and The Nook reckons buggery is "tight".

Two interesting things have happened to me lately.

Firstly, I saw Brian Wilson and he was better than anything you've ever seen.

Secondly, I was followed around the zoo by a group of muslim schoolgirls in jibabs offering sexual favours in exchange for balloons. This may be preconception/ignorance speaking but they were the last people I expected to get sexually harrassed by. Maybe it's like the catholic schoolgirl thing, although I attended a catholic school and never saw any evidence to suggest that that is any more than a myth, more's the pity.

One for the ladies

2005-06-24T22:21:00.000Z

What men say, and what they think.

You look nice today- I want to have sex with you

I've been thinking about you a lot- I've been wanking over the teen bras page in the Kay's catalogue

I'd like to see you again- I'm planning to fund my heroin habit by pimping you out to gangs of sweaty Columbian businessmen while I masturbate and take photos

Would you like a drink?- If I have my way this time tomorrow you'll be divided up into separate freezer bags

I truly respect your feelings as a woman and a human being I need almost continuous unprotected rough sex with underage crack addicts because it's the only thing I've found to sate this big, black void inside me that consumes my entire being with it's unrelenting emptiness

I love you- I will say anything, anything to get you into bed... I am completely devoid of conscience or emotion and care for nothing but my throbbing carnal urges which I must satisfy at all costs, regardless of who I hurt in the process... If you laugh at me now I'll kill you, don't think for one second that I won't... I've done it before and I'll do it again... I know your game you bitch... you're just like all of them, you're all fucking bitches...my cock is really small

As yet untitled

2005-06-22T21:18:00.000Z

Yesterday I had the pleasure of partaking in one of the strangest transactions of my retail non-career. First a bit of background- I work in a shop in Chester Zoo, and am in charge of the section selling books and dvds. We also sell film, disposable cameras and personalised badges, keyrings and door plaques which we engrave with people's names or whatever they ask for. On Tuesday the annual "Big Toddle", a sponsored walk that raises money for Barnados, was taking place in the zoo. This meant that the shop was busier than it would usually be on a midweek school day. A woman approached my counter and explained that she was 43, and would like a door plaque engraved for her 30 year old friend. A little more information than was strictly necessary, you might think, and indeed I did until she went on to vouchsafe to me that she wanted a gift to cheer up the friend in question, as he was feeling a bit down. He was feeling a bit down because his girlfriend had refused to have his baby. The customer was particularly taken with a tasteless and unfunny door plaque I had made, featuring the image of a seal and bearing the legend "I love clubbing". She wanted "something cool like that", but with a message more relevant to her friend's particular problem. Let me assure you, gentle reader, that the ugly vision does not shock easily, but it's fair to say that my jaw hit the deck at this point. I had never encountered anyone, outside of a mental institute, with a poorer grasp of what is appropriate. Before I could venture the opinion that this may not be the ideal gift for the occasion, she informed me that her husband had left her that morning, calling her an "embarrassment". He had woken up that morning, said "God you're an embarrassment", and walked out. The kindest thing to think is that the poor woman was still in shock, as she went on to-

Inform me that she was good friends with Peter Hook, and tell me story after story about him (I mentioned to her that I had been listening to Joy Division that morning. I should not have).

Tell me about her ex, who was asked to join The Smiths but turned it down to open his own nightclub. He left her after he decided he was bisexual.

Tell me that she has a cameo in 24 hour party people (I've never seen the film, but apparently she's the heavily pregnant woman bouncing up and down in the Hacienda. And Steve Coogan came on to her while she was pregnant).

Tell a string of appalling "chav" jokes.

Ask me for ideas for the radio show she was hosting on Sunday (Piccadilly Key 103, didn't catch the time but it has to be worth looking out for. I could make neither head nor tail of what it was about).

Tell me about the cat that she had nursed back to health, only for it to walk out on her. I'm no psychologist but I think I see a pattern emerging somewhere.

Come on to me really clumsily.

Please remember that our relationship was that of shop assistant/customer. The plaque I engraved for her ended up saying "Tupac and Elton make pennies from heaven. Coke adds life". If you have any idea what this means you are wiser than I.

Btw yes, I was a little tempted. And I wouldn't like to speculate on what that says about me.

Zoo pie

2005-06-08T19:42:00.000Z

Sometimes working at Chester Zoo pisses me off. But the other morning I saw an otter with a hard-on. It made me realise how lucky I really am.

Flog your blog

2005-06-02T11:20:00.000Z

Don't know what this is all about. Do blogs have a market value? If so is it a good time to sell? What am I bid for the ugly vision?Do I hear six an' ten?

Jason's in the house

2005-05-19T13:09:00.000Z

Hello boys and girls. I've recently had my eyes opened to a quite interesting trend in alt-country, that of house gigs. They are exactly what you'd imagine them to be- gigs in someone's house. Like guerilla gigs, but more civilised and less shouty. Last Saturday I saw Jason Ringenburg, of Jason and the Scorchers fame, perform in someone's living room in Mossley Hill. A fairly average-sized living room. He was great, as is his current album "Empire Builders", which unsurprisingly he was flogging on the night. Armed with his acoustic guitar, a cowboy hat and a Wildhearts t-shirt (that got me hot), he knocked out a wide selection of tunes from his 20-year career, including some scorchers material and plenty from the new album, most of which deal with the sticky subject of American liberal guilt- the problems of facing a world seething at the Bush regime without denying one's own identity. Unashamed Southern gent, unrelenting left winger, Ringenburg's wicked sense of humour shines on tunes such as "Rebel flag in Germany". This composition relates Jason's own experience of spying a confederate flag from a train in central Germany, and debating whether to hide under the seat, or maybe pretend to be Canadian, in case anyone thinks he hung it. The song concludes with the line, "Hell I don't even want to see that flag in Tennessee".

UK alt-country singer Quiet Loner did a set as well, about as Americana as you can get while still sounding British! Good lyrics, good tunes...playing the pilgrim on the 28th... somewhat compromised by some prick in the audience who wouldn't shut up all the way through, even when asked to... why oh why etc... a rant for another time, I think.

Is this the real life?

2005-05-13T09:54:00.000Z

Nicked this from The Part that Stares, I'm sure she nicked it from somewhere else though.

Choose a band/artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band
1.) Artist: Queen
2.) Are you male or female: Killer Queen
3.) Describe yourself: Death on two legs
4.) How do you feel about yourself: Doing all right
5.) How do some people feel about you: You're my best friend
6.) Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend: All dead, all dead
7.) Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend: Flick of the wrist
8.) Describe where you want to be: Brighton Rock
9.) Describe what you want to be: Cool cat
10.) Describe how you live: Stone cold crazy
11.) Describe how you love: Good old-fashioned lover boy
12.) Share a few words of wisdom: Don't lose your head

7 up the Arsenal

2005-05-12T16:40:00.000Z

Oh, how I love Everton... they take a very similar approach to football as I took to studying for my A levels back in the day... fuck it, I only need three Cs, I'll have another go on the megadrive. Fuck it, we're already gonna finish fourth, let's lose seven nil.

Robert Pollard's Relaxation of the asshole arrived today... showed it my dad, he doesn't seem to dig the concept.

We're having a laugh!

2005-05-10T11:35:00.000Z

CHAMPIONSLEAGUECHAMPIONSLEAGUECHAMPIONSLEAGUECHAMPIONSLEAGUECHAMPIONSLEAGUECHAMPIONSLEEEE- AGUE!

Too overome to write properly just yet.

Watt's up

2005-05-06T21:05:00.000Z

I haven't talked about the election or Mike Watt yet... two birds, one stone.

Labour won, which is good. I think it's also quite good that they lost a bit of their majority... not that I would want any of the other parties to come to power. But hopefully Blair realises how lucky he is to have gotten away with dragging us into one illegal war... and knows he won't get away with something like that again. That's all I'm saying on the matter.

Mike Watt was good... he played the whole first part of his new album as if it were one song... good stuff, although I'm not familiar with the material yet. It was fairly surreal, seeing someone who's basically a living legend playing a Liverpool shithole for six quid... it wasn't even full. Apparently he'd recently had an offer to play bass in the MC5- wonder if he regrets knocking it back? Anyway, it was good to see Stearno, Gribsy and the other reprobates. I've been out of things too long...

Oh yeah, and the FA have ruled that only the top four teams will be in next year's champions league, so justice has been done. We may not be in it, but at least the red shite can't fuck up Europe for us again, unless they finish above us fair and square.

I knew it!

2005-05-05T12:10:00.000Z

Your Kinsey Number is 1.0

Predominantly Heterosexual, Incidentally Homosexual

What's Your Kinsey Number?

More Great Quizzes from Quiz Diva

Beating the superpower with the stupid stick

2005-05-01T15:45:00.000Z

In the pub on Friday night I struck up a conversation with a charming Greek-Cypriot girl. She had studied in the USA and told me the following story which, as you might expect, filled me with delight.

Whilst at the university in California, she got talking to an intelligent, educated American girl who asked where she was from. Knowing that nobody in the US had heard of Cyprus, she told her she was from Greece. The American's response to this was utter shock and amazement, as she said "Greece? You mean it really exists? I thought it was just a mythological country!"

I hope that my European, Asian and South American fanbase will join me in sniggering at this further evidence that Americans are really, really stupid. And to any readers from the US- Greece is located in Southeast Europe. It borders, among other countries, Bulgaria, Albania and Turkey. Its hot summer temperatures, beautiful beaches and many islands attract thousands of visitors each year. But it's no mere tourist destination, oh no! Things that Greece has given to the world include democracy, the theatre, and homosexuality. Greece are also the current football champions of Europe.

I'm not zenophobic... I love them little pebbly gardens.

2005-04-24T16:14:00.000Z

The funniest man in print- Johnny Ryan

Spin on this

2005-04-22T14:58:00.000Z

Is everyone looking forward to Hobson's Choice, aka the general election? I see that the Lib Dems want to scrap tuition fees by increasing tax on top rate earners, and that Labour have called this plan "wildly unrealistic", or something. This of course begs the question- if the Labour party don't believe in taxing the rich to fund public services, what the fuck do they believe in? Is that not supposed to be, like, the point of the Labour party? I'm still going to be voting for them, though, because now that the Tories are virtually indistinguishable from the BNP keeping them out is of paramount importance. It was those posters that did it for me... urrgh. The Conservative party pander to people's worst nature and are attempting, some might say successfully, to generate an atmosphere of mistrust and suspicion- fear, basically- throughout this country. Their policies are misleading, divisive and woefully outdated. As for their statements regarding asylum seekers and gypsies- do people still not recognise Divide and Rule when they see it? It is, quite literally, the oldest trick in the book.

I think it still holds true that any Labour government is preferable to any Tory government, and any government at all is preferable to a Howard government. Besides which, most of New Labour's shortcomings relate to not being different enough from the Tories- the absolute last thing we need is to go backwards. I usually vote for the Greens, not because they're perfect but because, as an unashamed socialist and a committed environmentalist, they're the only party that really speak to me. I'll vote for them again in the European elections, but for now I think there's a bigger issue at stake. I've never voted negatively before but that's what I'll be doing on May 5th- a pretty lousy day for democracy.

Rejoice!

2005-04-21T15:07:00.000Z

"Naw, ye git tae fuck, ya bastirt!"

Ugly Birthday Happy Vision

2005-04-01T21:11:00.001Z

I've just realised that it's one year to the day since I started this blog. I also notice that this has been perhaps the least productive year of my adult life. Must be coincidence.

In the last twelve months the Ugly Vision has gone from strength to strength- from no readers at all to maybe five or six. If my popularity continues to soar at this rate, I should be getting half as many comments as Pramila by the year 2020.

I'm off to get pissed because it's the anniversary of something. More stilted ramblings and ill-considered opinions to follow.

Dig the shit

2005-04-01T20:49:00.000Z

I think you're sexy and funny too
I dig the shit out of you
We went on a date to the petting zoo
I dig the shit out of you

Your rhythms are fantastic
They make my hips go spastic
And I look like Elvis Presley do
I dig the shit
I dig the shit
I dig the shit out of you

Hens are birds and ducks are too
I dig the shit out of you
Sheep go bar and cows go moo
I dig the shit out of you

You turn on my emotion
You're worthy of devotion
And you've got more brains than Hawkins do
I dig the shit
I dig the shit
I dig the shit out of you

Goats were kids before they grew
I dig the shit out of you
Rabbits hopped and sparrows flew
I dig the shit out of you

We saw the gerbil and the dormouse
Then went back to your house
I went in the kitchen and made a brew
I dig the shit
I dig the shit
I did the shit out of you

Copyright Duncan Ingram 2005 all rights reserved, all wrongs reversed.

My Grandma is cool

2005-03-30T14:00:00.000Z

I spent a jolly pleasant Easter visiting relatives that I see appallingly rarely. I had a particularly good time chatting to my maternal Grandmother, who as well as being my oldest surviving relative is also the coolest. My Grandma is cool for the following reasons-

She owns the biggest telly I've ever seen.
She loves Roy Orbison.
She had a mobile phone, but got rid 'cos she couldn't get the hang of texting.
She uses the phrase "I can't be arsed".
She was 20 in 1950, and witnessed the arrival of rock n' roll to these shores.
I showed her my ipod and she said she wanted one. I played her Antony and the Johnsons and she declared it "lovely".
She owns a copy of Bjork's "Medulla" album.

Can anyone beat that?

As often happens when one visits relatives, I found myself looking through old photographs. There was a piss-funny one of my Uncle and his mates on a basketball tour in Germany, going dangerously close to a Hippo in the zoo (it actually looked like they'd jumped the fence to go right up to it). The picture that really took me aback, though, was one of my Mum and Dad in the early seventies. Seeing my own parents in the first flush of young love, dressed in trendy clothes, fucking blew my mind. My Dad had longish hair and they were both wearing flares. Of course I knew that they were around and having fun before I was born, I'd just never really thought about it before. My Mum was also quite moved when I showed her the photo. I guess everyone has a kind of blind spot when it comes to their own family.

Anthem

2005-03-30T13:55:00.000Z

I won't go down the horrible street
To see the horrible people
I'll gladly climb the terrible stair
That leads to the terrible steeple
And the terrible rats
And the terrible bats
And the cats in the terrible steeple
But I won't go down the horrible street
To see the horrible people

People that define certain words

2005-03-23T16:31:00.000Z

Christopher Walken- Cool

Robert Kilroy-silk- Bigot

Piers Morgan- Oaf

My mate Chris- Gay

Tommy Lee- Duuuuude

Craig Bellamy- Prick

Boris Johnson- Buffoon

Prince Philip- Anachronism

Matthew Wright- Ghastly

Gary Lineker- Nice

Tim Cahill- Feisty

Courtney Love- Mess

Nicola Roberts- Runcorn

Anyone got any more?

Hogzilla

2005-03-23T11:34:00.000Z

I feel a great sense of relief on behalf of the people of Alpaha, GA, whose resident giant hog has finally been declared genuine. No longer must their "insides bubble" with the anticipation of embarrassment. They can now hold their heads high in the international community. Alpaha, and Hogzilla, The Ugly Vision salutes you.

Huey Lewis and the News

2005-03-21T17:20:00.000Z

Just been re-reading American Psycho and it occurs to me that when I write about music, e.g. the Robert Pollard post the other week, I sound a lot like Pat Bateman. If I start going on about clothes and restaurants you should probably worry.

Shock and awe

2005-03-21T17:07:00.000Z

I'm not turning this page into the Joe fan site but his last couple of blog entries have been so fucking funny that I have to point them out.

If I ever get to use the words "oh how hip" in a disparaging way I'll die a happy man.

One man's struggle

2005-03-18T13:05:00.000Z

Everyone who enjoys Westerning the old Gulliver should take a really good look at The Victorian Computer. Bloody Joe Tucker blowing his own bleedin' trumpet as per, but it's a blimmin' good trumpet and everyone should have a ruddy big toot on it, says I.

BBCI Radio 6

2005-03-16T11:40:00.000Z

Those of you with access to digital radio (i.e. everyone with internet access, i.e. you) might like to tune in to BBC 6Music at about 2.15 on tues (22nd March, I think) afternoon to hear me attempting to answer questions on alternative music on Vic McGlyn's show. I'm going to have to listen to the show myself between now and then cos I've never actually heard it before. I applied totally on a whim, don't even know what the prizes are.

Thanks to myspace I'm now officially a "friend" of Prefuse 73. As you can imagine, this has lead to me walking around thinking I'm cock of the walk. In a really pathetic way.

He's going on about that band again

2005-03-11T18:47:00.000Z

The following vinylage arrived yesterday-

Robert Pollard-Zoom (It Happens All Over The World) 7". The first post-GBV release from Uncle Bob sees him giving free rein to both his love of the Beatles and his modern art fetish. The first track (Dr.Fuji And Henry Charleston) is a gorgeous folky instrumental that features arguably the most intricate and accomplished musicianship ever heard on a Pollard release. The title track is pure British Invasion. The songs are interspersed with samples of a Midwesterner discussing conceptual art with a German girl. In short, all the signs are there that the upcoming solo album will be boss on toast. It should be noted that all the other musicians involved are former GBV members.

Guided By Voices-Bee Thousand (The Directors Cut). A four-record set featuring most of tracks recorded during the sessions for GBV's 1994 classic, this tenth anniversary release obviously isn't as good as the original (what is?) but is still ludicrously enjoyable listening. It's one for the completists, especially as most of the "new" tracks have already appeared on either Suitcase or King Shit and the Golden Boys, but bugger me it's a lovely bit of vinyl. Btw, I'd like whoever has my original Bee Thousand CD to step forward- Paul Rafferty I'm looking in your direction.

In less happy news, it would appear that my bride-to-be Pramila has been cheating on me- and to make matters worse, she's been boasting about her exploits online. I may need to put my foot down.

Rest in peace Tommy Vance. You used to make a daft teenager very happy on Friday nights (I'm talking about the rock show, sickos).

Guilty Pleasures

2005-03-06T13:54:00.000Z

A lot has been written about guilty pleasures lately, presumably inspired by the recently released compilation albums of the same name. I'm not talking about sexual perversions (for once), but rather the films, books, TV and music that we can't help enjoying, despite knowing in our heart of hearts that it's absolute crap. We all have them- there's no point denying their existence- but why? Why should we enjoy something that's bad, and, conversely, how can something be bad if we enjoy it? (repeat- I'm not talking about sex). In the case of film, it's not difficult to see how such phenomena could come about- American Pie and Road Trip might be slices of pure cinematic garbage but they're a damn enjoyable way to kill ninety-odd minutes. Likewise, a lot of the TV I enjoy- Coronation Street, Friends, Wife Swap- is entirely unimproving and sometimes downright reprehensible, but isn't that kind of the point of TV, a bit of dumb entertainment at the end of the day?

In the case of music, however, it's less easy to understand how and why guilty pleasures should exist. Surely if music sounds good, it is good- sounding good is its job! It seems likely that a feeling of guilt over our musical tastes arises due to the fashion constraints of the day, a prescribed perception of "cool". For example, it is now perfectly acceptable for the self-conscious fashionista to admit to a fondness for Iron Maiden, whereas ten years ago such an admittance would have left them open to ruthless taunts and/or ostracism by their peers. Such was the uncoolness of Maiden that partaking in their music was a pleasure so guilty it was most likely consummated only in private, with the doors locked and the curtains closed. Under the bedsheets.

I don't think guilty pleasures are merely a matter of fashion, though. I have always loved Iron Maiden, cool or uncool, and have never had any qualms about admitting it. They make brilliant, heavy, emotional, intelligent music and I see no need to feel any guilt about enjoying it. That's not to say that I don't have my guilty pleasures. Like most people that are fond of music, I have certain criteria which I couldn't quite put into words, but which guide my musical judgment. Every so often I hear a song that fails to meet any of these criteria but nevertheless sends shivers up my spine. Come on, we've all been there! The logical part of your brain thinks "turn this crap off" but the carnal, emotional part screams "give me more!"

I'm going to share my biggest guilty musical pleasures with you, and I'd be obliged if you'd share yours. We're all friends here- it'll do you good! I'll go first-

The first Shed Seven album
Early Status Quo (admittedly, they played a completely different style of music back then)
10cc (They did have some genuinely good songs, but I like the ones that aren't good as well)
Rush's 2112 (It's awful! But it's amazing! But it's awful! But it's amazing!)

I can't think of anything else. Remember, a guilty pleasure should be bad but enjoyable, not good but uncool.

What Katy Did

2005-03-05T17:58:00.000Z

Why is it always so easy to kill soap opera characters with a single blow to the head?

Bands/musicians that I've met

2005-03-04T16:59:00.000Z

Inspired by Danny Nash.

L7
Paradise Lost
Therapy?
Obituary
Kerbdog
Henry Rollins
Chris Haskett
Alec Empire
Bis
Guided by Voices
Leatherface
Downset
Koufax
Kevin Devine
Chris Kontos (Machine Head's old drummer)
Warrior Soul
Burning Brides
Mates of State
Antiproduct
Wool
Sick of it all
H2O
Queens of the stone age
Terrorvision
Victor FME
Spike from 911
The bass player from Skunk Anansie

Moi aussie

2005-03-04T15:14:00.000Z

This is what passes for news in Melbourne.

Hip Hop Forever

2005-03-04T13:15:00.000Z

A program by the above name was on very late last night- an attempt to relate the history of hip-hop to an ITV audience. It was quite shit, annoyingly jumping back and forth chronologically and focusing on artists lesser works rather than their defining moments. For example, Snoop's "Tha Doggfather" was covered, but not "Doggystyle"- likewise, MC Hammer's "Pray" but not "U can't touch this". It did, however, serve to remind me how boss British acts like the Wee Papa Girl Rappers and Cookie Crew were. It also provided a fine moment of comedy during an interview with Snoop Dogg. He was giving the typical grown-up, anti-gang, "we just wanna tell the kids they don't have ta go the way we went" speech- whilst clad in a Crips bandana. Ya beauty.

Btw, the Wu-Tang Clan are the best thing ever to happen to hip-hop- discuss. But don't bother discussing it with me, cos my mind's made up.

You know what really pisses me off

2005-03-03T14:00:00.000Z

Is when I publish a post but it doesn't show up in my blog for like, days. Maybe publishing a new one will make the old one appear.

Watch out for the ides an tha

2005-03-03T12:29:00.000Z

Isn't March a cool month? You never know from one day to the next if you're going to see bright sunshine, snow, torrential rain... it's like someone's put the weather on shuffle. Of course, it could be argued that the British weather's always like that. But I love it when you start getting the first little glimpses of Spring... the realization that the seemingly endless Winter's about to be sent packing, albeit not without a fight. Birds nesting, thoughts turning towards festivals... and if it's true that Maiden and the Pixies are doing Reading, count me right in.

Danny has started posting again. Please hear what he has to say. He knows everything.

Current listening- "Nuggets- original artyfacts from the first psychedelic era". Sheer bossness.

Seroxat Beats

2005-02-23T17:39:00.000Z

Since the demise of Guided by Voices, I find that I have absolutely no taste in music. I listen to everything. A glance at the tracks I've downloaded over the past week- and there have been a lot, as I've been laid up in a place with shit-hot broadband access- reveals gospel, rock n roll, blues, metal, noise, country, folk, garage, comedy gangster rap... artists as diverse as Nancy Sinatra, Black Dice , Gism and Paul Robeson. This is a good thing, I think, and I'm not saying I ever lived in an indie-rock ghetto, but... I just seem to have no anchor, no foundation to my music taste. I don't know where to start looking for music. I guess it'll be the same in record shops- I used to march assuredly over to "Rock/Pop, G" as soon as I entered the store. It was a good starting point. God knows what I'll do now. I think I'm the kind of person that needs a favourite band. So there's a vacancy open. I'm considering a few candidates already, but if anyone would like to get in touch and try to sway me one way or another, feel free.

I think the Seroxat's starting to work... I don't feel quite as mad anymore. Or rather, I still feel it, but it doesn't bother me as much.

Still fucked though.

Well well

2005-02-14T15:25:00.000Z

It's ages since I've written on here. I was going to wait until I had something good to say, but that doesn't look like happening... so here's some crap for you to digest.

After easing off for a while, my panic attacks have returned with reinforcements... last week there were days when I could barely stand up without palpitating all over the shop. A couple of times I had these weird little fits where I went really hot, my pulse went mental and my body kind of spasmed... it only lasted for a second but it shit me right up. I asked the doctor whether it's even possible for anxiety to casue symptoms this severe... he said (words to the effect of) "Yes, just not in normal people". So I'm recuperating at the parental home for a few days, and have been put on Seroxat, although I haven't started taking it yet. I wonder if any (either) of you have had experience of this drug... should I believe the doctors, who think it's amazing, or the media horror stories? I'm pretty much resigned now to the fact that I'll be retaking most of my final year... I don't really care at the moment though, I just want to GET BETTER. No kidding.

Oh, and the Inland Revenue are trying to take me to court because I didn't give them my fucking council tax exemption form on time... that really is exactly what I need.

Anyway, here are some observations I've made of late...

Chris Morris's Nathan Barley- exactly what I expected, but not quite as good (Fucko has some wise words to say on this matter).

David Lynch's Dumbland- exactly what I expected, but not quite as good... so far (I've only seen episode 1).

Wolf Eyes- the only band I've yet encountered that I find myself unable to listen to due to the fact that they just make a horrible noise... I usually like bands that just make a horrible noise. Yellow Swans, for example, make a horrible noise that is a lot of fun to listen to. Wolf Eyes do not. I suspect there's some Emporer's New Clothes type shit going down there.

Looking at my "albums of 2004" list I realise that I could have made a far better one. Not to worry, this isn't fucking nme.bastardcom. But here are some artists I've been enjoying lately-

Six Organs of Admittance
Sufjan Stevens
Mastodon
Akimbo
Professor Longhair
Shearwater
Prefuse 73
Diamanda Gallas
And so forth.

The Nook has started up a blog. It provides a fascinating insight into the inner workings of one of this country's last great enigmas.

I think that'll do for now.

Guest contributor- Tommy Lee

2005-01-02T15:08:00.000Z

That's right, I'm back baby! So how ya been? Dunc says he's taking a "hiatus from being a human being"... dunno what crawled up his ass but anyway, he's asked me to fill in for a while.
So how ya been? Shit, I asked that already... I hope y'all had a new year to rank with the very best. I know I did. Real mellow, just me and Heather- sorry Pammy- shit, I mean Donna, no, that ain't right... that chick, ya know, she was in the Warrant video that time? The one I married just after thanksgiving, before I went to Japan... shit, she's gonna have my balls for this... anyway, just me and her and the kids- two of hers and one of mine, and that one that's both of ours. Real mellow, a meal and a glass of wine, ya know I'm sober now, but I figured shit, it's new year dude. So just a coupla glasses of wine, and a little pot. Then waddaya know, that crazy sonuvabitch Nikki swings by- turns out he had a bust-up with that chick he's married to. So we decide to freebase a little cocaine, ya know, for old times sake, but I'm sober and responsible now, so I can't do that shit in front of the kids no more. So we head out to this titty bar on the strip, get high, a few tequila shooters, a coupla hookers, a little horse- real mellow. So who do we run into but Van Persie, ya know, that lawyer we fired... or did we? Whatever dude, he decides to get all up in my face about being drunk, ya know, and violating my parole and shit. And he's all like, "we told ya, Tommy, you've had your last warning", and I'm all like, "no one gives me a last warning", and I'm all like "fuck you, man", and he's all like "no, fuck YOU, man". And ya know Nikki, he's all about that anger management shit these days, dude, but enough's enough, ya know, so he like, slings the Jack bottle at Van Persie's head, and there's like, blood everywhere, dude... so the cops show up, and they're all like, "we're taking your ass to jail, man" and I'm all like "fuck you, man" and they're all like, "no, fuck YOU, man!". So yeah, a real mellow new year, and don't worry, dude, cos they got the internet in here and I should get out well in time for the UK gigs.

What, ya didn't hear? Oh baby, where ya been dude? That's right, the Crue are back, badder than ever, and hittin' the UK in June! Ain't that just enough ta make you cream in ya pants, dude? Yeah, I'm so totally stoked about these new shows, it's gonna be the shit. Rock n' roll is baaaaaaaaccck, dude! Just so long as that fat fuck Vince doesn't try to get up in my face again, dude. I tell ya, I've had all I can take of his shit. I'm just about ready ta quit this goddam band...

The best albums of 2004

2004-12-20T13:05:00.000Z

I can't see any classics being released between now and the new year, so here goes...

1. Guided by voices- Half smiles of the decomposed
The last time I'll be able to fire GBV straight in at number one in the "best of the year" list. It's an absolute pisser that they're splitting up just as they've found real form again but at the same time at least they're going out on a high. Next year's Pollard solo should be really special, seeing as solo artistry is now his full time occupation.

2. Bjork- Medulla
Her bravest and possibly best work yet, on which she finally forsakes the archaic notion of accessibility for sheer carnal thrall. No instruments! But why should the best voice on the planet play second fiddle to anything?

3. Tokyo adventures- The hunter's handbook
Did I just say accessibility was archaic? Well, not if you do it as well as this. This is pop/ rock in the purest senses of both terms. Quite, quite lovely.

4. The Streets- A grand don't come for free
Mike Skinner makes commercial music that is also innovative, whilst drawing on some really good influences. I believe he is the only person in Britain managing to do all of these things to any degree of success. The devil, as the Irish used to say, may take the begrudgers.

5. Neurosis- The eye of every storm
Not the best Neurosis release, but still better than practically anything else by practically anybody else. You need to hear it. Will you?

6. Shystie- Diamond in the dirt
I went bonkers over this when it came out, and I haven't changed my mind. This is just great on every level. MC of the year as far as I'm concerned.

7. Kanye West- College dropout
It's true what you heard- this is the shit.

8. The Shins- Chutes too narrow
In the year when turgid guitar rock made an inglorious return to the charts, it was very heartening to hear a four-piece making music as sweet as this. Indie pop that's far too vital to ever be described as "fey" or "twee".

9. Vincent Gallo- When
Achingly pretentious, laughably self important, bereft of enduring melodies and at times virtually unlistenable. What's not to like?

10. Bobby Conn and the glass gypsies- The homeland
It feels wrong to be including this album in the list- it's basically a Bowie tribute and I don't really listen to Bowie, and I've never had any time for people that listen to rip-off artists but not the people they're ripping off. It's like hating the Beatles but loving the Bootleg Beatles. But this album has given me so much pleasure it would be dishonest not to include it here. It's funny and clever and it sounds great. Maybe I should give Aladdin Sane another try?

A good year for music all in all, as evidenced by the fact that I had to miss off albums by Beastie Boys, Hella, The Dwarves, The Wildhearts and Dizzee Rascal. Single of the year poses no such dilemma, maybe because singles are virtually a dead format now. I'm no nostalgist but I think it's fair to say that there was a time when pop music- i.e., music written deliberately to be popular- was great, and that time is not now. However, once in a while that rarest of things happens- a number one single turns out to be a really great song. This year it happened not once but twice, with Three of a Kind's "Babycakes" (very sweet and considered annoying by the kind of people who deserve to be annoyed) and most significantly, the wonder that is "These words" by Natasha Bedingfield. Anyone who claims not to like this either a) is lying out their arse, b) is dead inside, or c) perhaps understandably, can't bring themselves to enjoy anything made by a Bedingfield. Anyway, me and The Royal Hoop both rate it, and we know more about music than you.

Despite all this, the best thing I've heard all year is "We're gonna win the league", sung by Everton fans- who for once were not being completely sarcastic.

White folks say the darndest things

2004-12-14T23:40:00.000Z

I was watching this C4 documentary last night about an anti-Semitic website called "Jew Watch" that's run by the former "grand dragon" of the KKK, a guy called Don Black. The site basically lists every well-known Jewish person there is, with particular emphasis on film stars, musicians etc. The avowed purpose of the site is to enable white supremacist types to "be on their guard"- presumably in case they accidentally allow themselves to be entertained by a Jew. The documentary focused on this one Jewish reporter and his attempts to get himself onto the list- understandable as there were some awfully big names on there.

Anyway, I know I shouldn't have but today I had a peek at the site myself- what do they expect when they include the address in the programme? It was full of the usual paranoid crap about Jews "taking over" showbusiness, banks, the press etc, plus a section "exposing" famous people as being Jewish (Elvis and Ringo Starr, apparently). What really caught my attention though was a large headline reading, I shit you not,

"IS POPE JOHN PAUL II JEWISH?"

I expect Don Black to be refuting the notion that bears shit in the woods very soon.

Blog anything that moves, take two

2004-12-04T14:07:00.000Z

I was lucky enough to catch Victor FME, Hot Club de Paris, Disco Drive and Do Idea at club Heaven/ Hell last Sunday. Sadly, due to University getting in the way of real life (again), I only caught the end of Do Idea's set and the beginning of Disco Drive's, but both were most impressive. In particular Do Idea are, in sickening industry parlance, "one to watch", fashioning the kind of spazz-rock workouts that are so popular at the moment with uncommon grace and vigour. Apparently they've not long started gigging, so The Ugly Vision will be monitoring their progress very closely.

As you should be aware by now, I think Victor FME are the best thing since posh crusty unsliced bread, and they were on form on Sunday. Their set was far more focused and passionate than last time I saw them, kicking off (in more ways than one) with scally gangster anthem "Snitches get Stitches" (probably the best thing they've ever recorded), and maintaining the momentum right to the the end. I'd disgracefully never seen Hot Club de Paris before, and was slightly nervous about the experience. I guess I was worried that Paul's enthusiasm for this band might lead to Victor falling by the wayside. If I'm brutally honest, I guess I was also a little concerned that they might sound like some goddawful attempt to emulate Storm and Stress. Any such fears were soon vanquished, however, as I very quickly realised that the hype is to be believed- the Hot Club really are something very special indeed. I don't know if the barbershop interludes are intended as an alienation device, but on Sunday that had the exact opposite effect, sending a lovely warm glow around the audience as everybody gloriously "got it". The songs themselves are far more coherent than I'd been led to believe, proving that good musicians really can push their technical abilities whilst still producing a sound that's most easy on the ear. The best thing about HCdP, though, is the way they work the crowd. Due to the many tangents their music goes off on, nobody knows quite when to applaud, and so often nobody does, for fear of being "buzzed from". This leads to a lot of silences, not the kind of silence that poor musicians get from an apathetic crowd, but edgy, anticipatory silences as we await the pay-off. There's no way a less talented act would be able to pull this off. Hot Club demand your attention from start to finish, and it is amply rewarded. Oh yes.

Hate

2004-11-22T16:30:00.000Z

Call me a pinko bleeding heart lefty fag-bait panty-waist if you like, but anyone who engages in racial taunting at a sporting event deserves to be napalmed into oblivion, then quick-limed over in case any of their DNA has survived. The abuse given to black players at the England-Spain game last week made me physically sick. I think someone should bring the twenty-first century to Madrid before they try for the Olympics. Can you imagine the Kenyan relay team taking to the field to be met by a cacophony of monkey noises from the stands?

I support Ashley Cole when he says that he'd never leave the field because of crowd abuse, as that means the yobs have won. I think in this case, though, it would have sent a good message if England had refused to carry on the match. It was only a friendly, nothing riding on it so why should they have entertained those bastards a minute longer? Especially as it seemed to be a fair percentage of the crowd that were hurling the abuse.

What makes me even more sick about the whole event, however, is that I've been told ( I wasn't there, obviously) that unfunny comedian Chubby Brown was making jokes about it in Liverpool on the Thursday after the game. I'm not going to tell you what he said about Ashley Cole- suffice to say that I think there's grounds to prosecute him under the same law that Abu Hamza fell foul of. As long as we allow this kind of filth to be spread in this country, we can say nothing against the Spanish football authorities ( who have done absolutely jack shit about Wednesday's debacle). Thought police? Your thoughts need policing, fucker. They're a danger to everyone. Anyone who enjoys the fat racist shit should have their voting rights removed. Or is that not PC?

Disclaimer

2004-11-17T14:57:00.000Z

The Ugly Vision is served tongue in cheek. It should be taken with a liberal pinch of salt. And some beer.

The views expressed in the comments box are not necessarily those of The Ugly Vision, the BCI or Duncan Ingram.

ODB

2004-11-14T13:39:00.000Z

Ol' Dirty Bastard, aka Dirt McDirt, aka Osirus, aka Big Baby Jesus died suddenly yesterday... thanks for letting me know, Lara. This is extremely sad, of course, mainly because he was only 35 years old, and a father several times over, but also because he was so damn talented. Although he was often seen as peripheral to the Wu-Tang Clan set up, I actually think it's his contribution that makes those first two albums so special. He was certainly missed on the later Wu releases that he had little or no part in. As well as this, he released arguably the two best solo albums to come from the Wu stable. Both are absolute masterclasses in low-down, dirty, scuzzy psycho-funk, with some of the nastiest, funniest lyrics ever heard in hip-hop. They also represent RZA's finest work as a producer.

ODB also lit up several chart and RnB hits with his guest appearances, often providing that extra something that turns a potentially bland tune into a disco monster. "Ghetto Superstar" in particular springs to mind. Dead rappers tend to be deified, often for the wrong reasons. I hope that ODB will be remembered for his music, rather than for the string of petty offences that led to his imprisonment and could well have ultimately shortened his life. Hip-hop is certainly poorer today. Rest in peace, Dirty.

I really hope this is the last "memorial" post I have to write for a while...

Motorhead/ Sepultura

2004-11-13T13:57:00.000Z

On Wednesday I attended the best gig I've been to in ages. Well, the only gig I've been to in ages, but even if I'd been to loads, it'd probably still be the best, if you see what I mean. It was most heartwarming to see a motorhead queue snaking all the way down Mount Pleasant, especially when you bear in mind that not so long ago they were canceling gigs due to lack of interest. Just goes to show that if you stick to your guns for long enough, even the most flagging of careers can have a second wind.

Sepultura will probably be encouraged by this. I'm sorry to say that, like most people, I stopped following their music after Max Cavelerra quit the band. After watching them on Wednesday, though, I have to ask myself why. The current singer (I forget his name) is no less impressive a vocalist than Max, possibly even (whisper it) slightly better. OK, the old material sounded a fair bit better than the new, but I can't see any real reason, other than mindless sentimentality, to write off the post-Max Seps. Especially when they wipe the floor with most of today's metal chancers. I was reminded in the most blunt way imaginable just how great songs like "Desperate Cry" and "Arise" really are. Could a revival be on the cards? I hope so. I think they deserve it.

Do I really need to tell you what Motorhead's set was like? Lemmy was there. They finished with "Ace of Spades" and "Overkill". It was amazing. Of course there were glaring omissions (the most obvious being that neither band played "Orgasmatron"), but with over twenty-five years of material to draw from that's inevitable. There were a couple of numbers from more recent albums we could have done without, but it would be churlish to begrudge them that, especially when they brought out "Just cos you got the power", always one of my favourites. The new material sounded good too. My favorite moment, however, was Lemmy's touching tribute to the Ramones- "this is for three friends of mine- they're all dead. Brown fucking bread, they are". They then played "Ramones", a tribute Lemmy wrote years ago that was actually covered by the Ramones themselves! On the whole, this night was exactly what I needed- what everyone needs, in fact. The only sucky thing was the prohibitive price of t-shirts. You'd think Motorhead, of all bands, would want to price their shirts competitively, considering the competition they have these days from Top Shop and New Look.

Rob Da Bank

2004-11-13T11:54:00.000Z

I had a listen to Rob Da Bank's show the other night- he's the guy who's been charged with filling John Peel's old Radio 1 slot. I was touched by the way that Rob attempted to keep John's legacy alive by playing the wrong records, playing records at the wrong speed and taking records off halfway through because they sound warped. It's not the same, obviously, but a nice try anyway. Much like the show itself.

On the subject of Radio, Bruce Dickinson's show on Radio 6 is about as good as it gets. A real trooper.

Just got purely bigged up by Silver Dollar Circle. Very proud I am. Blog royalty beckons.

1st Annual Barbed comment Championship

2004-11-10T13:19:00.000Z

Sir Elton John has been making headlines for his barbed comments recently, calling Taiwanese reporters "rude, vile pigs" and Carole Caplin a "mindless fucking turd". Well, he's going to have to be at the very top of his game for the first barbed comment championship, due to be held at Sefton Park, Liverpool on Sat 13th November. I'm currently favourite to win, and I'm planning to call Robbie Williams a "negligible worm of a man". In the event of a tiebreak situation, I may be forced to bring out the big guns and refer to Matthew Wright as a "trifling, vapid curr, devoid of human reason and utterly removed from civilised ideas of decency". Word on the grapevine is that George W. Bush is planning to describe me as an "achingly pretentious limey faggot". If he tries this, I intend to counter it by calling him "George W. Bush".

It's Official

2004-11-05T10:20:00.000Z

Americans are stupid. Now us Europeans (and other non-Americans) can carry on being snotty towards them for ever and ever. It would be cause to celebrate were it not so tragic.

Yes, this is a sweeping generalisation and as such, a little unfair. Julie, if you're reading this, I'm not talking about you, or any of your American sisters. Had it been left to the women of America, Kerry would have been elected by a clear majority. So what is it with American men? What's the matter, Bubba? Reckon those eye-rackies need to git the hell out of Israel, or whatever damn place it is? Think executing black men for petty crimes is a wholesome family activity? Wipe your goddam ass on the Kyoto protocol? I can't believe that less than a century ago we were deliberating over whether to give women the vote or not. It seems to me more logical to only allow women to vote. In fact, we should only allow women to run for government, own businesses, join the police force and generally run the world. We (the males of the species) have given it our best shot but let's face it, we don't have a fucking clue, and everybody knows it. I for one am up for a complete handover of power. I could do without the responsibility, for one thing.

It won't come as a surprise to learn that both Joe and Si have got this motherfucker sussed.

This sucks

2004-10-29T13:29:00.000Z

Sorry for two depressing posts in a row... don't feel obliged to read this one. I'm writing it mainly as self-therapy.

For the last few weeks I've been pretty much incapacitated by violent, crippling panic attacks. This is not a new thing- I've suffered from them, on and off, for most of my adult life. Now and again, though, they get so bad that I'm unable to carry on with my life as normal, becoming almost housebound in particuarly bad weeks. It can take ages to get back on track, usually through counselling, therapy etc. As a result, my course is slipping away from me, my social life has died on it's arse and my trip to New York is all but out of the window. This really sucks.

The attacks are characterised by a racing pulse, dizzyness, pain in my chest and limbs and an absolute conviction that I'm about to die, or pass out or something. Although my rational mind knows I'm not, panic is not rational!

Sorry to whinge on like an Arsenal fan. I know there are people in the world who go through far worse things, and I should probably "pull myself together", or something. All I can say is that I am trying. I know that someday soon I'll be relaxing with a beer in my hand and no tension in my body, firing out witty remarks like the Duncan you all know and love. It can't come soon enough.

John is gone

2004-10-27T14:54:00.000Z

I'm still reeling (inside) from the news that John Peel passed away yesterday. I think its affected me more than the death of any other famous person... since Freddie anyway. I know people usually die but I'd hoped that God might make an exception just this once. I really thought that one day my children would be able to listen to Chinese death metal back to back with early twentieth century sea shanties on weeknight radio. I was greatly amused recently by an appearance by John on that programme "Grumpy Old Men", in which he bemoaned video recorders for being too difficult to programme- apparently he never got the hang of it in the twenty-odd years that VCRs have been on the market. This sixty-five year old guy had no problem getting to grips with gabba, dancehall, grime or grindcore, but was left bemused by a simple and somewhat outdated piece of recording equipment. Class.

So where do i go to to discover new music now? The internet? The music press? Fanzines? Balls. My radio has lost it's heartbeat and my record collection has lost it's Godfather.

Soz

2004-09-12T14:29:00.000Z

"Finns are looking up"? I'll end up working for the Sunday Express if I keep writing headlines like that.

Finns are looking up

2004-09-12T10:42:00.000Z

I've been away this past week, on a whale-watching trip to the Bay of Biscay... rather an unusual holiday it must be said. Three days at sea (plus three hours on Spanish soil!) on a P&O ferry, armed with binoculars while the rest of the passengers get on with whatever people do on mini-cruises. Sadly agorophobia kept me off the highest viewing platform for most of the trip, but I don't think I missed much, and in fact I was privelidged enough to get some very close views of the second largest animal on earth, the mighty Finn whale. Seeing that colossal spume of water, followed by that immense grey back breaking the surface not twenty metres from the boat... must rank as the single most impressive thing I have ever witnessed. Seeing Sunfish floating in the water was almost as exciting, in the way that things you never think you'll see generally are. Also got a couple of species of Dolphin, which are always fun, although the bird count was disappointing. Arrived on dry land to find the new GBV album had arrived, so I'll be writing a bit about that once I've had the chance to properly acquaint myself with it.

In other news, I'm feeling incredibly proud of Everton at the moment... the performance against Man City yesterday could not have been further removed from the sorry display in the corresponding fixture last season. I'll spare you my views on referee Steve Bennett for the time being though... bah. Keep this up, and we won't even need United's dirty money to save us... although I guess it'll still come in handy.

Personal computers gone mad

2004-08-26T22:21:00.000Z

I'm sorry about this but I really must comment on leader of the so-called opposition Michael Howard's recent comments on "political correctness". This kind of ties in with what I wrote in the last post. Obviously, nobody with a clue has used the phrase "politically correct" (which, by the way, has always been a derogatory term) in any context since it was revealed that all that bollocks about banning the word "blackboard", etc was made up by the Sun. Howard, however, seems to have decided that the tired anti-pc corner is the very one fron which he wishes to fight for the forthcoming election. It hardly needs pointing out how pathetic this is, but I'm going to anyway. Howard believes that British people are "driven mad" by political correctness, citing the example of schools replacing sports days with problem solving exercises. Shit policy this may be, but can someone please explain to me what exactly is "political", or, for that matter, "correct" about it? He goes on to mention the banning of England flags, the fact that kids don't play musical chairs in school anymore, and, rather vaguely, the "red tape" that police have to deal with when they arrest someone. In other words a bunch of irrelevant, unconnected issues that he can clumsily lump together and get all Daily Mail about, dumbly groping for the lowest of common denominators. At no point in his sad little rant does he define what he means by political corectness, and at one point he worryingly states that "a culture which fails to distinguish between right and wrong, in the name of equal 'rights' for all, is a distorted culture. That's right, the sick little thatcherite throwback actually puts the word rights in inverted commas. I'm guessing (I have to guess, because it isn't made clear) that by "politically correct", he means left wing. Well if the left exerts such influence on our society, which it must, if it is dominating government policy and driving the people mad, why is it almost completely unrepresented in British politics? Why are our elections dominated by three barely distinguishable centre-right parties? I almost feel jealous of the USA- at least they have a despotic human rights abuser to get rid of. All we have is a grinning union buster to keep in. Because, tragically, Blair is the lesser of the two evils. I feel it's more likely that the British public are being "driven mad" (or at least away from the polling booths) by dishonest, vacuous politicians who refuse to address real issues in a coherent manner and instead resort to high school-style popularity contests. Maybe. Perhaps.

I suppose I should write something

2004-08-25T19:18:00.000Z

Some absolute truths...

1) Anybody who begins a sentence with the words "I'm not being funny, but..." should never be allowed to finish that sentence.

2) Racism is always wrong. End of dot fucking com.

3) I'm not into over-polished singers, but Rufus Wainwright just takes the piss.

4) The people who talk the most say the least.

5) "Political correctness" has never existed. It's just a lie made up by the right-wing media to spread petty outrage and make liberals look foolish.

6) The idea of Rooney playing for a nothing team like Newcastle United is nothing short of ludicrous.

I'm talking about football

2004-08-14T19:30:00.000Z

On Everton's website today, captain Alan Stubbs has given an interview urging supporters to get behind the club, and expressing disappointment that he feels some fans already believe that defeat against Arsenal on Sunday is inevitable. The odds are crazily stacked against the Blues this season- no money, not much of a squad and potentially devastating rifts in the boardroom. In Today's Guardian, all but three of the paper's eight sports writers tipped Everton to go down. Stubbs, quite rightly, believes that these people are being way too hasty in writing the team off- Everton do tend to perform under pressure and are more than capable of pulling off a few shock results. What really irks me, though, is the way that he seems to include the supporters in amongst the doubters. Last season half of the Everton players were, quite frankly, unfit to clean the bogs at Goodison, never mind represent the club on the pitch. They accrued their lowest ever premiership points total and only stayed up because there were a couple of even shittier teams in the division. In that same season, more supporters than ever before came to Goodison week in, week out, paying a minimum of twenty-four quid to watch eleven broken men look lost for ninety minutes. You don't have to tell us to get behind the club, mate. Our part of the deal is well and truly fulfilled. We will always support the club because it is our club, and as long as you can honestly say that you played to win and never gave less than your all, we will always be behind you. Yes, even if you lose.

Shystie

2004-08-09T20:33:00.000Z

I've spent the past week falling in love with Shystie's debut album "Diamond in the Dirt", which I bought one the basis of one Mp3. Like all the best "urban" (ugh! sorry) music, it's practically impossible to nail down musically, incorporating Rnb, garage, ragga, hip hop and proper gospel. I've heard it referred to as "grime", but it's much more accessable and melodic than grime as I understand it. And it's fucking ace. I've rarely heard a more engaging lyricist, and her MC skills are just mindblowing. Some of the "gangsta" posturing sounds a bit far-fetched to me, but what the fuck would I know? I probably understand better what it's like to be an Inuit than what it's like to be black in South London. "You don't know who I am, you don't know what I've been through... so how can you judge me?" Fair play. What really tickles me about the lyrics, though, is how many of them are about her being thrust into the public eye, wanting the press to back off etc... When she's really not that famous yet. I get a perverse kick out of people with crazily over-inflated ideas of their public profile anyay... think Julie Burchill's autobiography, or Tricky's second album (for fuck's sake man, you had a critically acclaimed album, that's all, no-one tried to nail you to a cross!) All very entertaining. In Shystie's case, though, it could be a pre-emptive strike, cos she is going to be massive... if there's any justice in the world, and I still like to believe there is. Anyhow, the bottom line is that this girl's the best MC I've heard since Ghost Face Killah first knocked me on my sorry ass, and that ain't no bullshit.

Munkyfest 5, or is it 6? I've lost count.

2004-08-01T12:54:00.000Z

I was planning to do a really professional, detailed review of Munkyfest, but I'm not a professional, so I got drunk by mid-afternoon and didn't take any notes. Here's what I remember of the day, with sincere apologies for any omissions/ inaccuracies.

Saturday was the first dry day in absolutely ages, proving that god likes munkyfest, or at least doesn't hate it. The sunshine wasn't quite enough to get me out of bed on time, so I missed the Fucks and Vegetables, although I'm told that both were fantastic. I got there just in time to catch Our Beautiful Ridiculous Plan, a guitar and Double Bass Duo whose stark, sweeping soundscapes at first washed right over me, but gradually drew me in more and more until I didn't want them to stop, especially after they brought on a clarinet player. Tigers are probably the best spazz-punk band ever to have played in Helsby wearing just tiger-print undies. Their music brings to mind several bands, including Napalm Death, Devo and squeak-core jokers Sticky. The performance was exhilarating and just the thing to get the fest properly kicked off. A couple of acts failed to turn up on time, so during a break in proceedings we were treated to a solo set from Graham. His voice is beautiful and it made me wish that Voo were playing. This Ain't Vegas were apparently not pleased at having to play almost as soon as they got out of the car from Sunderland, but they still managed one of the best performances of the whole day. The grimy guitars, sludgy bass and strangulated, emotive vocals compliment each other sublimely, and this is one band that I can see moving on to bigger stages. Flamingo 50 and Three Minute Margin did their changing over thing, which was top fun, and they played a song called "Highway to Helsby", as well as the day's first real anthem "First in Line", so boss boss boss. The Four Tomorrows, led by poster-boy slacker Ally, gave us the kind of classic rock that you can only produce on a Les Paul. Damn that boy can play. Lords wear their influences firmly on their sleeves (and the back of their shirts), but their posh psychedelica was impressive enough, particularly the drumming. Not that anyone could overshadow the drummer from The Wow, who once again showed everyone how it's done. I really don't think I could ever see too much of this band. The hits just keep coming with Tokyo Adventures, whose sound has been considerably beefed up of late. They look as if they're loving playing together, and the new songs are fantastic. A more back-to-basics approach is adopted by Hooker, whose riot-pop sensibilities tread a fairly worn path, but still manage to sound fresh and exciting. They also benefited from the clearest sound of the day. There's not a lot I can say about Victor FME that I haven't said in previous posts, and their Munkyfest set just reinforced my devotion to them. We were even treated to a couple of old favourites with Joe on keyboards, and one with him and Amo together- surely the best collaboration since Iron Maiden adopted the triple guitar attack. Zen Baseball Bat worked well late in the evening, with the crowd ready for a dance. They seem to have about 4000 band members now, but their caustic invective has not been dulled. I was fucking leathered by the time The Countryside Alliance Crew came onstage, which probably helped. They made me laugh but I think a group of city boys ripping the piss out of the rural community over a Venecian Snares-style mash-up that I might otherwise have enjoyed was an ill-advised addition, especially as the last act. I think these sentiments were echoed by the majority of people there.

One wall of the barn was decorated with a mural depicting the Munkyfest family tree. Among the names listed were extinct acts like Point 9 and pyridine, as well as those who have since evolved, like Honey Shop Screamers and Handy Jackoffs, and absent friends, like The Short Cuts and Grampus 8. At about 2 am I decided to walk home, which was much further than I thought. The worst thing about Munkyfest was that I had black shit the following morning. Black! What's that all about?

Get in there, father

2004-07-30T17:12:00.000Z

I was absolutely delighted to hear the news that a Priest and Nun have been caught "doing it" in a car outside an airport in Malawi. I love it when things that could happen in sitcoms happen in real life.

Munkyfest tomorrow. Get in.

No!

2004-07-18T11:04:00.000Z

GBV are only playing 25 more shows, ever- and none of them are in Europe, never mind the UK. In fact, all of them are in the USA. So that's it. No more GBV. In less anyone's up for Chicago on New Year's Eve?

Duncan the crab's favourite pastimes, in reverse order

2004-07-13T21:22:00.000Z

5. Scurrying

4. Foraging

3. Climbing

2. Burying food

1. Staying still for so long that I think he's dead.

I've really been enjoying Simon's Silver Dollar Circle lately, even though he makes me feel old by talking about music I've never heard of.

The best website ever

2004-07-11T11:54:00.000Z

Proof that there are people more obsessive than me out there.

Insert "crabs" joke here

2004-07-10T18:08:00.000Z

Today I got a new pet- a land hermit crab. He's very small at the moment and quite cute, if you like crabs. He's a great low-maintenance pet who eats anything you drop in his tank. I've decided to call him Duncan, because i find the idea of having a pet with the same name as me really funny.

Neurosis

2004-07-07T21:15:00.000Z

I know I'm a little late, but I just acquired the Neurosis & Jarboe album. It's everything you'd expect from a Neurosis release, i.e. soul-wrenchingly, heart-twistingly astounding. "Haunting" is a word that's bandied around way too much but there really is no other way to describe Jarboe's vocals. It's like having a particularly malicious ghost living in your stereo and spitting grey ectoplasm into your eyes through the speakers. Her contribution takes the music beyond the tribal and into quasi-religious territory. At times I could imagine it being recording in a monastery by the robed followers of some draconian sect devoted to the dark ecstasy of denial. It's a rite, a sacrament. There's more blood and guts on this record than in Jeffrey Dahmer's trash compactor yet it displays a prettiness and delicacy not often found in "industrial" music. The drawn-out repetition on the final track is getting to be a bit of an old trick, but I'd still heartily recommend this to anyone who, like me, finds the most fulfilling pleasures come from stretching the endurance of the senses. And to all you grannies and grandads out there still hankering after "tunes", get to bed it's after seven.

They rip the fucking shit out of horses, don't they?

2004-07-05T21:34:00.002Z

Have a read of this story about horse mutilations in England. It's weird, nasty and kind of funny (mainly for quotes such as "80% of attacks on horses are not committed by humans"). It reminds me of the AC song "I ate your horse", and also of a story I heard a while ago. A girl who used to work at Chester Zoo used to have a horse when she was a kid, which she used to go and feed every day. One day the hapless child walked down to the field as usual, only to find a strange man, for want of a better term, fucking her beloved steed. I've no information on what action was taken by the man, the child or the horse, but it seems to me that everyone wants to do something to these creatures, whether it's make love to it, rip it apart or put a saddle on it and flog it til it lets you ride it. I just like stroking their noses. Am I a pervert?