The only thing that ultimately matters is to eat an ice-cream cone, play a slide trombone, plant a small tree, good God, now you're free.
21 May 2013
16 May 2013
'World War 3' is a working title. This is the start of the start of the beginning of a short story I'll probably never finish... peace.
Ours is a small story, told from inside a far bigger one. The biggest story we’d ever been part of – and the biggest there would ever be.
The house was merely shell. Orange brick turned to white chalk. Fragmented and abstract. Blackened, charred. The bright smouldering long since cooled. Luckily for us the layout of the small 5 room building was such, that when the last of the big blasts came, the shockwave passed the south east corner of the house in a kind of slipstream. This left the large rear bedroom more or less intact – structurally at least.
We had the 3 beds for the 4 of us to share, a luxury that we’d told the children not to let on to anyone outside the family. The small stove worked fine and what was left of the bathroom was still attached to the inside wall of the bedroom so the toilet was workable most of the time.
Running water hadn’t been anyone’s reality for I think about 3 months by that time. It was hard to know for sure. We knew the date from the radio broadcasts, but the events of the period overall, were all just blurred into one another. The important thing was that the 3 remaining exterior walls were mostly intact also, forming something that still resembled a home. Or at least what strangers and scavengers could recognise as having been a home, once upon a time…
We had managed quite well for the year since last winter – the one they named ‘the dead winter’. We had seen neighbours leave in the hope of settling somewhere more populated, seen others perish. We had watched as those who had retreated to the countryside and outer suburbs - returned only to fade away weeks later. Meanwhile the decision was made that we’d stay put – wait it out. What we expected to happen wasn’t entirely clear, but we felt staying in one place would be safer for the kids.
We were wrong.
9 May 2013
"Skateboarding is not a hobby. And it is not a sport. Skateboarding is a way of learning how to redefine the world around you. For most people, when they saw a swimming pool, they thought, ‘Let's take a swim.' But I thought, ‘Let's ride it.' When they saw the curb or a street, they would think about driving on it. I would think about the texture. I slowly developed the ability to look at the world through totally different means."
8 May 2013
I constantly try to reinvent my sensibilities and my ideas. I enjoy some of the satisfaction that I get when I feel good about what I've done. But the process is quite lonely and quite painful. Vincent Gallo
24 Apr 2013
22 Apr 2013
A while back I was trying to explain to someone how skateboarders see the world on a day-to-day basis. Literally the differences in what we focus on walking down the street or looking out the train window... They didn't really get it and I guess that's not their fault. Unless you've been doing something pretty much constantly for 15-20 years there's no way of identifying that this random outlook just becomes - not even second nature - more like 'first nature'. It's just who you are.
19 Apr 2013
16 Apr 2013
Yet another sideways mood
overtaken at sunrise by it
contemplating the core of it over
a bowl of granola
Awoken with it lying in bed next to me
On my pillow with me
Looking into my waking eyes
The simplest desire of all humankind
The one universal truth other than death
The single most shared emotion and resentment
Is the one of having to get up every morning
And go to the job
I don’t care how good the job may be
and I don’t care about those who love their work
like their work colleagues
Even if my career involved waking up at noon and
Hanging out with international rock stars
Even if I could stay in bed and interview world-famous
Actors and actresses
Over the telephone for a few hours a day and
Thousands of pounds a week -
I would come to r e s e n t it
There is no time for work
To assist another in attaining a final product that
As recently as a few years back
You had no knowledge of whatsoever
So really how much can it all mean
Sick of it all again
Sick of red wine
Sick of bleeding hearts and liars
Sick of both the demands of life and the lack thereof
There is no reasonable justification for this
I have far too many other things to figure out.
21 Mar 2013
A late night
An alternate reality
Lives hanging in the balance
An old man with an old heart
Regretful and wanting
Dissatisfied and yearning
A stomach like a calm sea
Shark mind constantly swimming
A late night
Pangs of nostalgia for
Lovers no longer prisoner
To the anger I bring out in people
If I am good at anything
I am good at that
It is a natural gift
Or a flower opening to the sun.
15 Mar 2013
What is responsible
The Alpha waves
The Gamma waves
The will to create rather than diminish
- there being no third option
Today I saw a black woman punch her
On the street in broad daylight
No loss of control on her part
As though the normalcy amused him
And then she punched his sister
Fist to arm
A good swing
They both giggled and skipped off
As though they’d been caught
Sneaking one more cookie from the jar
Than was allowed
We are surrounded by concrete and cardboard
Rotting apples and unnameable beliefs
Stupidity lit by neon
Beggars on horseback
And a distinct lack of necessary
No desire to learn
No desire to love
No desire to grow
A waste of the white matter
Any potential future left unconsidered
The formulae to curing this madness
Could lie somewhere in linear examination
In chaos theory or in the darkness of thick oil paint
In words on a page that though understated
At least try to focus sunlight on these pointless
12 Mar 2013
1 Mar 2013
From Indiewire:Michael Parbot, a French journalist who gained unprecedented access to the 'Empire' production, contributed his footage to two documentaries: “SPFX: The Empire Strikes Back,” a behind-the-scenes look at the film's special effects, and a 1980 Dutch TV program showcasing lightsaber rehearsal footage and interviews with the cast.
The first made it onto the trilogy's Blu-ray release in 2011, but the Dutch program has only been seen in near-unwatchable snippets, appearing last in 2012 with 15 minutes available. Finally though, our clearest and most extended (30-minute) look has arrived, and it features fascinating conversations with Irvin Kershner, Mark Hamill, and a bashful Harrison Ford.
George Lucas himself is notably absent, but the doc shows instead the incredible technical work done by both the actors and crew, facing such situations as shooting in Norway's extreme weather to depict Hoth, and also how to wrangle Tauntauns and Wampas as well.
28 Feb 2013
So I'm going to this Jose Parla show this Saturday. When I started the blog - it was going to be a combination of my writing, art and music interests, and some other stuff that gave context to what inspires me and the work I (eventually) produce. That format went kind of awry over the years but it's nice to look back over old posts and see things come full circle. Makes me feel like I'm doing something right...
I was about to post the usual 'hey I was SO into this before you guys...' when I saw the date I posted the original piece - exactly five years ago today. Exactly five years. That's satisfying enough that I don't need to make the point about 'being in there first'.
But I was.
Cary Grant was once told, "Every time I see you on the screen, I think, 'I wish I was Cary Grant.'" He replied, "That's just what I think!"
I've been repeating that story ever since I first heard it, and it never fails to amuse audiences, all of whom seem to understand it immediately. Everybody groks that Archie Leach, the poor boy from Liverpool who became "Cary Grant" never fully believed in "Cary Grant," since Cary was, after all, his own invention. On the other hand, here's a similar story, which I also like to tell, that produces very mixed reactions, with some people laughing and others looking puzzled or slightly offended.
An art dealer once went to Pablo Picasso and said, "I have a bunch of 'Picasso' canvasses that I was thinking of buying. Would you look them over and tell me which are real and which are forgeries?" Picasso obligingly began sorting the paintings into two piles. Then, as the Great Man added one particular picture to the fake pile, the dealer cried, "Wait a minute, Pablo. That's no forgery. I was visiting you the weekend you painted it." Picasso replied imperturbably, "No matter. I can fake a Picasso as well as any thief in Europe."
Personally, I find this story not only amusing but profoundly disturbing. It has caused me to think, every time I finish a piece of writing, "Is this a real Robert Anton Wilson, or did I just fake a Robert Anton Wilson?" Sometimes, especially with a long novel, I find it impossible to convince myself that I know the answer. After all, as Nietzche said, "there are no facts, only interpretations"...... Continue reading...
Tizer ID crew first solo Show will be at Pure Evil Gallery the 7th March 2013.
13 Feb 2013
nigger no invented for color it was MADE FOR THE PLAGUE the word (art) must be redefined-all mutants and the new babes born sans eyebrow and tonsil-outside logic-beyond mathematics poli-tricks baptism and motion sickness-any man who extends beyond the classic for is a nigger-one sans fear and despair-one who rises like rimbaud beating hard gold rythumn outta soft solid shit-tongue light is coiling serpant is steaming spinal avec ray gun hissing scanning copper head w/ white enamel eye wet and shining crown reeling thru gleem vegetation ruby dressing of thy lips puckering whispering pressing high bruised thighs silk route mark prussian vibrating gushing milk pods of de/light translating new languages new and abused rock n roll and lashing from tongue of me nigger 20.10.74 r.e.f.m.
- Patti Smith, liner notes for Rock N Roll Nigger.