Saturday, 24 December 2011

i love urbandictionary

still or styll: an obnoxious term used by regular suburban kids or preppie white kids from Toronto who think they're from the ghetto. There is no specific definition of this word, as it was created and used by mindless idiots.

It is commonly used at the end of a sentence, usually after a suburban or preppie kid-turned wanksta speaks with proper grammer; the "styll" or "still" is added to the end to make the statement sound more ghetto
Next man 99 up, 4 down

1. A term used to describe a man you don't know but is or has been relevant to some aspect of your life.

2. A random guy.

Generally used in a derogatory sense, expressing distaste for the person in question.

Derives from the phrase 'as much/well/good as the next man'.
'So I went to the club expecting to hook-up with Kate but she was there with some next man'
I hear this stuff every day at work and I love it. Original combinations of words coming from my area. I thought language's development had come to an end but no.
As I write this Christmas Day has started. wtf am i doing.

Sunday, 18 December 2011

Albums I've Discovered This Year

And In the Endless Pause There Came the Sound of Bees - Johan Johansson
Very pretty, last track especially.
Astral Weeks - Van Morrison
Quite nice, but his voice gets in the way. Some crap tracks, some lovely ones like Madame George.
Barton Hallow - The Civil Wars
Just heard it last night. Man and woman folk stuff. Sounds nice.
The Book of Eli Soundtrack - Atticus Ross
Nice ambient. The first track 'panorama' or something is great, then the rest of the album is just variations on that.
Boxer - The National
Nice album. Ex get me into them; couldn't listen to it until I decided that the music and her were not the same thing and just listened. Fake Empire is nice. His voice is like mine. I like the drumming. Uniform and yet original.
Consolers of the Lonely - The Raconteurs
Just listening to it finally now as I'm doing this just to put another album on. Raucous. First track good. Rich Kid Blues is cool.
Daphne and Chloe - Ravel
Beautiful impressionistic classical music. Some of it drifts, but one track is just lovely. Acunt something. Not a cunt something.
The Dark Knight Soundtrack - Hans Zimmer
Not sure if I got this this year. But good anyway. The timbres of the first track are powerful. The Harvey Two Face track has some nice melodies.
Deathconsciousness - Have a Nice Life
I did hear this once but I forget it completely. /mu/ is always sharing it. I cba to listen to it again. It was depressing I think.
Definitely Maybe - Oasis
Was crazy for this for about a week. I really still like 'Columbia' but it's had its time.
Director's Cut - Kate Bush
She butchers old songs of hers. Not sure why. 'Deeper Understanding' is a travesty to the original imo.
Down Colourful Hill - Red House Painters
All prayers die in time. Something like that. One great track. Others too depressing.
Dry - PJ Harvey
Great rock album. I really like Joe. Sounds like something The Pixies would do.
End Times - Eels
Again not sure if I got this this year but still. Amazing album really. On My Feet has a great melody. But the one about pissing in the yard is the best. 
The Fanily Tree: The Roots - Radical Face
Disappointed. Heard it once. Nothing leaped out. Actually bought it as well.
Flattery Not Included - Mr. B The Gentleman Rhymer
Still good chap-hop album. Played 'Straight out of Surrey' to Bradley at schoolt he other day and he lolled. It has perhaps had its time.
Georgian Voices - The Rustavi Choir
Just got this because the Kate Bush song Hello Earth samples them. Very soothing and calming but at times the dissonant harmonies are like wut. Bit like the Bulgarian stuff I have.
The Fool - Warpaint
Pretty good album. First four tracks are great and then it sort of dissolves into some sort of acidic navel gazing bubble. 
Ghost - Radical Face
Just lovely. Why did adverts hijack Welcome Home godamnit.
Heat Soundtrack - Elliot Goldenthal/Various Artists
Great soundtrack. Really like the orchestral stuff too.
Helplessness Blues - Fleet Foxes
Oh man. Only played this once as I was sleeping and I was woken by the sound of screeching violins. Have begrudged it since and not listened. Probably should.
Hold Time - M. Ward
Really nice album. Just good songs and Zooey Deschanel has such a nice voice. andfaceobv.
Hombre Lobo -  Eels
Not sure if this year. Actually it can't have been. Still. Good album.
I Say! - Mr. B The Gentleman Rhymer
Shit follow up album. I like the Armitage Shanks one but the rest are diabolical. I was disappoint.
In the Aeroplane Over the Sea - Neutral Milk Hotel
Hipster album that happens to be fantastic.
Inception Soundtrack - Hans Zimmer
Good soundtrack. I like the third track best. Gets a bit boring in parts, though, like the film.
The Indifference Engine - Professor Elemental
Meh album. Remix version is better (see below) (well it wouldn't be above would it)
The Insider Soundtrack - Lisa Gerrard and Pieter Bourke
Only got this for the famous guitar piece, Ignazu or something. Rest were all tracks on her solo work.
It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back - Public Enemy
I like some tracks but the whole thing makes me realise that black people are mostly loud.
James Blake - James Blake
Pretty good introspective album that makes me almost like dubstep. It's like listening to the disturbing sounds you hear in your head at 2 AM when you can't sleep. 
Kind of Bloop - Various Artists
Lulzy 8-bit version of Kind of Blue. You grin when you first put it on then get bored after two minutes.
Kingdom of Rust - Doves
Pretty good album. Your usual indie stuff. They have a good wall of sound thing going on. That mixture of dance and rock.
Laura Stevenson: A Record -  Laura Stevenson and the Cans
Really nice voice. I like one track most. Something that starts quiet then gets loud. With an organ. Can't remember now.
The Legend of Zelda 25th Anniversary Special Orchestra CD - Nintendo
Let England Shake - PJ Harvey
Great album. Best album of 2011 but everyone knows that. Just good songs and lyrics. Sort of the album her whole career had been building to.
Loaded - The Velvet Underground
It's ok. I just like how there's one track whose melody is the same as the bridge from 'The Only One I Know' by the Charlatans.
Lyrical Masterpieces - Me
My production skills are getting better. But overall it's balls.
The Man Who Sold the World - David Bowie
Pretty good metally album. It all sounds the same, but it's a good sound. Dark and shit.
Marnie Stern - Marnie SternMeð suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust – Sigur Rós
I just like this for Ara Batur. Other tracks I can't really remember.
Melody/Summer - The Tumbled Sea
Probably my favourite album of the year. Can't count the number of times I haven't been able to sleep and have then put this on and felt an absolute peace flood over me. One track in particular I like the most. Seventh or Eighth one I think. Some moments in there of absolute beauty that have brought tears to my eyes if I'm feeling in the mood. Or if it's Sunday night.
The Milk-Eyed Mender - Joanna Newsom
Nice album. Her voice is annoying here but the songs at least are short. Lol. But I like the tracks. Jolly and stuff. I really like Peach Plum Pear. That organ. That chorus. It excites me.
More Tea? - Professor Elemental and Tom Caruana
Great chap-hop album. I like the Animals song he does with a woman whose name I forget. I also like the remixing on Fighting Trousers. So much better. But then he starts rapping in his normal voice it gets shit.
Only Revolutions - Biffy Clyro
Very loud but pretty great album, especially the singles. 
Passive Me, Aggressive You - The Naked and Famous
Second favourite album of the year. No shit tracks. The glorious intro to the single off it. The climax of 'No Way'. It's almost perfect pop. Indie pop. Whatever. The last track is shit but I stop it before it comes on.
Quiet Songs for Computer People - Falling for a Square
Rid of Me - PJ Harvey
Good album. Scary. I like 50 Foot Queenie. Didn't realise it was a single until I YouTubed. Sometimes people just KNOW what the best track is. Shame the production is kind of shit.
The Secret Eye of L.A.Y.L.A.H. - Zero Kama
An album played with nothing but chants and human bones. Should be epic but is boring and shit. Not even disturbing a la Galas.
Seven Idiots - World's End Girlfriend
Shit and saddening from the guy behind one of my favourite albums of the year. What a din.
Sigh No More - Mumford and Sons
Fantastic album. Twatty lyrics but dat sound. And melodies. 'I really fucked it up this time didn't I my dear?' How can any man worth his salt not want to sing along to that chorus?
Silver Threads and Golden Needles - Secret Sisters
Pretty if predictable album. Do You Love and Apple and Tennesse Me are just lovely though.
Sings: The Who Sell Out - Petra Haden
A cappela version of the album. First listen blew my mind. I admire it but not enough to want to listen to it that much. I appreciate it as a work of art though. Five years in the making I think.
Substrata - Biosphere
Apparently a classic ambient album. But no. Just spacey sounds I've heard before.
Symphony No. 1 "The Gothic" - Havergal Brian
Overlong, overblown, pretentious and poorly composed. How this guy beats Mahler to the longest symphony is beyond me. Mahler deserves it. This is prog rock. Bad prog rock.
Symphony No. 3 "Organ" - Saint-Saens
Had heard the last movement since I bought it years ago but only heard other three movements a few days ago. Pretty good symphony. But the last movement is the nuts. 
Things We Lost in the Fire - Low
Fantastic album. Depressing but still. One song 'Embrace' still makes me think of that time when I was forever alone this year, smoking out the attic window on a Wednesday night, thinking about nothing but death. So have found it hard to listen to it since. Even though my life is so much better now and  I have found someone I love.
To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey
Apparently her best album but I don't like it much. The water one is OK but only because of the whispering bit. I like the Snake Moan track though.
Tomorrow Morning - Eels
This made me feel forever alone when I first heard it. I was all like 'Urgh, he's happy and his songs are shit as a result.' Now I think the songs aren't his best but because I can relate I'm all like 'OH SO LOVELY!' like he is. That's one of the songs. Not just me shouting 'OH SO LOVELY' at random points in my life.
Tron Legacy Soundtrack - Daft Punk
Great soundtrack. Kind of had its time in my head though because for a while I did nothing but listen to it.
Uh Huh Her - PJ Harvey
Vargr Veum - Vargr Veum
Doom-filled musings that would be cool were it not for the fact that I know the guy who did these songs and he's actually pretty normal.
The Vertigo of Bliss - Biffy Clyro
Erm listened to it once. Passed me by like the fart from a passing penguin.
Violator - Depeche Mode
Good album. Nothing to write home about but nothing bad either. Just a bit... short?
Wenn Der Sudwind Weht - Hans-Joachim Roedelius 
There is some nice stuff here. One track that sounds like a carousel which I like.
Will You Find Me - Ida
You and I - The Pierces
Air Doll Soundtrack - World's End Girlfriend
Lovely ambient floaty stuff. Second favourite ambient album this year behind Melody/Summer. Sometimes even better. Sometimes.
21 - Adele
Good break-up album. Couldn't listen to it for a time but now I can. But I am a bit like 'calm down, dear'.
50 Words for Snow - Kate Bush
Ok album. Peaceful piano stuff. Kind of creates a weird world of her own. I like her vocals especially on the title track. Very low and kind of sexy.

Monday, 12 December 2011

People are Stupid

 I am sick of people right now. I just want to curl up into a ball and go hide in a corner and if my loved one wants to come and cuddle me that would be nice. I find myself too tired even to speak. Conversation is mostly a sequence of revelations about people that make you wonder why you bother. I find myself saying the same things over and over. I am sick of hearing my oh so interesting opinions on things that are ultimately meaningless. So I am part of the trap. If I could be born new and see the world with totally wondrous eyes that would be nice. But I am tarnished by my experience, my upbringing. Some guy today clearly saw on my face a mark of my jaded and tired state.
Are you alright?
Yeah I'm ok. You?
That's what annoys me about England. People always say they're fine when they're not.
(Leave me the fuck alone.) Yeah it's funny.
It's like, you know, it's amazing how we are put here for a purpose. And we all have a purpose, you know. You can do anything.
Yup. (Just let me smoke please.)
Take this plant. When it first grows up, it is weak. But when it is older. It is strong. Eh?
Yeah that's cool.
We are all here for a reason. You are powerful. There is a force behind everything.
(I know where this is going. This man's into religion. Fine. Just stop talking about it please.) Yeah.
 Evolution and that is all bullshit.
Is it?
Yeah, of course it is. We're the same as apes? Please. When was the last time you saw an ape conversing with a human?
(Oh my god. He actually is seriously saying this.) Mmm.
You know what I'm saying right?
(Of course I know what you're saying.) Yeah but.
But what?
Evolution is still going. It's true. Evolution is real. (You're a fucking teacher and I'm having to tell you this.)
No way. We're still evolving? Rubbish, man.
Yep. We're evolving and learning new.
That's a load of shit, man. No. We were put here for a purpose. It's a miracle that you are standing here, right now.
I know. It's my ancestry. (I could try and steer it towards the whole chaos thing.) All those years of people in the past and it resulted in me. (I'm now ripping off Watchmen but I don't care.)
So don't you start thinking you're the result of chaos.
Well actually that idea to me is more beautiful because from all the unpredictability we can still get life.
No. There is no chaos. It is all part of God's plan.
Don't you start thinking you're just a random result.
You go home and think about that.

Friday, 9 December 2011


I’ll take care of the driving
You take care of the map
There may come the occasional moment where our roles overlap

You take care of the children
I’ll take care of my pipe
You must understand I will eventually be contrite

I’ll take care of the spider
You take care of the noise
It appears that I currently have a monopoly on poise

You take care of the money
I’ll take care of the cash
Little do you know everything is in my stash

I’ll take care of the painting
You take care of the walls
With your gaze upon them it is certain they won’t fall

You take care of Sunday
I’ll take care of the roast
Let’s see which one of us ends up eating most

I’ll take care of facial hair
You take care of plucking
Either way tonight I assume we shall be

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Fashion is mysogyny. A social norm created by men with nothing better to do than create a world in which men get away with wearing a tux but women are scrutinised endlessly on whatever dress they're wearing, before having some fashion magazine let the rest of us know whether their dress was Hot or Not, a dress that cost somebody out there a lot of money to create and whose career has now possibly been ruined by some hack telling them that it's not Hot because the colours clash or some otherworldly bullshit. The culture we live in dominated by the male gaze, and the female gaze turned inwards, creates a fission of pressure and narcassism bound to cause anyone involved within it either to implode or explode depending on your viewpoint. And we all do this at some point.

Explode at someone else, or implode and destroy yourself from the inside to avoid harming anyone else. But the eye is ever watchful. Nothing is real until it is being observed. It is that point where you find yourself observing yourself, trapped in self-awareness ("I am being funny") that you start to understand what solipsism really is. Nothing is real until you process it through your valuable ego. I am blathering.

Sunday, 4 December 2011

Plastering over the Cracks

It's been a long time coming, sighed the hard-time but jocular fecund-based ballad writer from the Cockgrun estate off the Hackney & Westlake park. Parks devised of granite, illusory like Mr. Bubbles foam bubbles floating over a radioactive lake. Ideologies were carved on the surface of brick walls, momentary fleeting glimpses into a mind hidden at the top of a body crouching furtively like a shitting monkey amongst bracken and density. Neutrino is faster than light, not dark matter but flitting in and amongst the shadows, an elfin creature, mischievious and playful but worrying for it is not evil and therefore we cannot erase it or write it off. Like the urchin who crouches with his tag etched upon a deliverance surface, a statement made of identity, making themselves real, or at least as anything else out there, momentary existence, flash-in-the-pan message, a McLuhanian end-time package whose customers can only glance up in dismay before moving on, shuffled hands in pockets, listening to shuffled music, avoiding street skuffles and wearing coats of duffel. The neutrino graffiti artist cannot decide whether to stare at his own affirmation plastered on the wall, hangdog like misery lipstick draped on a bored fortysomething wife drunk one night slathering it on, ironically making herself look down-and-out, whereas anyone who's anyone knows that the true down-and-outs employ the most sophisticated makeup techniques.

With makeup any sin can be disguised. Our history has been made up to the extent that we can encapsulate all occurances into one pretty and manageable package. This happened - that's the way it was, and will always be, and so it must  make sense to us because it's now just part of history. The problem is applying this makeup to the present day; the economic climate requires a Max Factor of resolutions, a softening of truth, a Vaseline applied to the lens of stark truth; an actress whose entire career has been concocted by the falsifiers of this world becomes more real as a fake idealistic projection than in her actual self. The reality is that this fictionalised version of her creates commerce, and art, and actuality, and joy and sorrow to those who have witnessed this divine being living out a hyper-life out there on the big screen: a life to which we aspire, all the while glad that we shall never reach that peak. Glad that we are not manipulated, our identities forged in meeting rooms, our faces melded and etched onto manufactured headlines, our eyelashes smearing themselves onto the smudged harshness of cheap grain, so that the smudges we created as a mistake became a totality of representation upon the copy which becomes the original.

With the death of traditional manufacturing comes the death of the part of capitalism we thought would last forever: supply and demand. But only the death of the first part. The second part is a logical leap forward to another step of total submission to simulation; or, perhaps more encouragingly, a step away from simulation into a more real economics shorn of excess, shorn of surplus, devoid of fat, devoid of waste. A complete circular system, where the simulation and the original blend together in a frame of self-devouring that benefits those inside and bemuses those outside, but - crucially - does not brutalise them. The dream: a black wall upon which an image representing a supermarket shelf displays simulations of 'real' products on a 'real' supermarket shelf, which the customer then 'picks out' and buys on their phone. The actual product is delivered to the house, and, as the family sits at their table eating the fish fingers and chicken nuggets, no one is at all bothered about the altered nature of the purchase, cutting out as it did a particular section of consumer society that we had taken for granted for so long - the illusion that the product we were buying was actually ours to own.

You pick up the tin of baked beans in the supermarket, and at the point it drops into your trolley, you now own that product. You confirm this with the cashier, who grabs your product and passes it through a beeping system for a moment, invoking the feeling of a blessing, a digital confirmation. It emerges on the other side, completely yours, dropped into your basket, and through this strange ritual, we somehow come to believe that we own this product. But we don't. We don't own that tin. That tin could be any other tin on the shelf. We don't own that tin any more than we own all the other identical tins on the shelf. The tin does not exist in itself. It is only a representation, a promise of the beans inside. The baked bin tin delivered from a warehouse feels less like it belongs to you: you did not pick it out and hold it up to the light, or bless it with the priest on the counter. It was simply given to you. But the tin given to you contains the same beans as the tin you picked up yourself. The tin that exists on the virtual supermarket shelf is the most real tin out of them all, because that one image is exactly the same image for everyone else. The image is the same, only it is projected on different screens. The screens are different - the object is not. The object is real, because it is not copied. It is the same image.

In the future, the supermarket will either be non-existent, confined to an online signifier long shorn of its original signified ('Leading supermarket for the last 100 years!') or it will surrender entirely to the idea that the virtual wall of shelves are no less real than the shelves that we walk past today. Every supermarket chain will finally realise that it is identical to the one down the road, selling exactly the same image. Maintenance of this supermarket will be unnecessary. The fake employees will stand there, projected into our spectrum, forever smiling, always patient, always calling you by your proper name, waiting for you to make your order and offering assistance where necessary. The real shop assistant does not make eye contact, and must end work after eight hours. But the fake shop assistant will be more of a true shop assistant than any human. The promises of twentieth century capitalism shall finally come true. Total delivery of the entire capitalism package. But this is but a pipe dream. What most likely will happen is that supermarkets will shut, leaving no more than gigantic, anonymous, cold, hidden warehouses miles long on the outskirts of cities as the last remnents of an old empire, a decrepit ruin of a civilisation that had once given of an aura of lasting forever. Capitalism's smiling face will be buried beneath a mass of mole-like workers leaving packages on doorsteps. No need for good service now. The product - the signified - is all that matters, and the speed of delivery. Whoever plasters over the cracks fastest makes the most profit. Whoever slathers makeup over the cracks can keep their job. But having a job to make money in order to buy things will no longer be motivation enough. Without the prestige of total interaction, even with the fake, the act of buying will lose all meaning. Without the High Street, the fake will be lost, unless it can create total simulation. Any compromise and who knows where we will end up? Who knows what will become of us in a society where we've all woken up from the capitalist dream? Perhaps we will turn back to God. We shall have to see.

Friday, 2 December 2011

the way things are, were, and will be

In this day and age, it's all too easy to assume that answers are out there, waiting for someone to discover them. The postmodern situation however renders all that meaningless. There are no answers, no solutions - only further questions, designed to trap us inside the web of our own creation and misapprobation. Ariadne looks on worried as we somehow manage to burn the string given to us.

If nobody has the answers to a given problem, that results in chaos. An equation whose answer can only be found by looking outside of itself is an equation that shouldn't bother to exist. The outside source of China and the outsourcing to India render Europe obselete. Nothing exists here anymore. Today I attemped to recreate one of the best lessons I ever had aged 16 when my history teacher made the grand statement that money didn't exist. My mind was blown. I attempted to copy this lesson in a one-to-one session with L but his reaction to my grand statement was simply "Oh right? Let's talk about how to avoid AIDS again." I sighed and discussed how important it was for him to be safe. I further attempted to show him that events in history are doomed to repeat themselves, citiing George Satanya (sp?) by saying "those who do not learn from history are condemened to repeat it". His answer was simply "You're well smart, aren't you sir?"