"The more I look around me, the more I come to believe that all the people on this planet are sparks or fragments of greater beings, which tends to imply that there are GREATER BEINGS! It's as if there were twelve or fifteen of these deities, these super-beings, and they built a 'game of the gods'...

...I wanted to be totally creative, to become a being that lived, breathed, and only existed to create, to communicate, and to discover."
Genesis P'Orridge

A thought on getting older: my teens were awful. So far, my twenties have been utter chaos.

'The Spice must flow'. Frank Herbert right... well... see I have this problem with science fiction. I was raised on a strict diet of sci-fi as a young person, and I will never tire of watching Dune the movie [at University, I pretty much watched Dune and Sid and Nancy, at least three times a week for about a year]. But why is so much science fiction obsessed with God and War?

I love the bad guys: diseased, psychotic homosexuals with unusual haircuts[typical Hollywood]. I even had the haircut [or a rough approximation] - if you haven't seen the film, I'll see if I can find a link... meanwhile:

How gay are you?
Me =
"Your score is 111
LEVEL 6 -- MOSTLY FEMININE
People are starting to place bets that you are gay. You do a lot of things and have a lot of behaviors that are the stereotypical gay feminine traits. You enjoy exploring your feminine side. Most people just assume you are gay, and go on with it, which is just fine with you."


"i ran away and i did not look after you because i wanted a chocolate bar. i ran all the way back though, i swear i did, but when you asked for some i just said no. you're too fat anyway, i felt sorry for you "
notproud.com

I'm up watching Hackers [yes, I know it's crap but still... just Angelina Jolie's eyes for two hours would be entertainment as far as I'm concearned], browsing Mac Warez sites [do I get in trouble for linking here?

I'm about 90 something pages into this story I've been working on for months and months. Well, I say story... it's more like a really long list... but it makes me happy.

My renewed thirst for art has lead me to this rather lovely site dedicated to the rather lovely work of the late and lovely Joseph Beuys.

Perception is 9/10ths of the law...

I just officially quit my job. I think I'm completely skint. I think I'm a fool. I think I'm free.
My left hand is shaking but my right hand is fine.

art-in-a-coat

This is me on a Sunday, with serious back pains for some reason. Worried about my diet, happy about music - just like, you know, music generally [like isn't Lou Lou attractive?]

So it's The Hafler Trio and me wondering if they were ever serious about there interesting yet confused sound experiments, an equally vague site too.

Enough crap - I don't seem to have found a point...

Do you ever get that feeling?

Hey - you're beautiful!

This is me on a Friday, too tired to go out, mind a flood of more crap ideas [I could and maybe will keep a blog just for my fleeting, crap-silly concepts] the kind of notions that keep me awake until dawn: the bedside lamp come on every five minutes as I search desperately for a pen.

Well my eyes are losing focus but that's OK by me. Joy in a Can is what we need right now. I had this idea, quite seriously, to put all of me ideas for writing into something that wouldn't exclude: With Eastenders For Subversives [a discription rather than a working title] I thought maybe you could have a Grange Hill audience, with an Eastenders kind of set-up, except that each of the characters would be putting over some healthy ideas, many of whom would be overbrimming with joy, as oposed to total misery. But I honestly thought that this would be the best medium because you could target this audience of say 10 - 18 who would be just ripe for subverting. Then maybe if you progressed to an Eastenders time slot you've got 14 - 40 and beyond - so you'd have to be a little more subtle. But your characters would still take the form of Phil and Mark and Peggy etc, accept they'd have the souls of anarchists, free-thinkers, manic adventurers, drug fiends, metrosexuals, etc. I'm seriously considering actually having a go at this.

Napster provides the perfect oportunity to rediscover all those joyous lost popsongs that filled my youth with moments of pure spine-tingling 'my god I have to do something wonderful with my life' joy. This evening, it's Big Audio Dynamite's E=MC?, The Breeder's Canon Ball, The Strangler's Always The Sun, and Visions of You by Jah Wobble.

This evening, Liz Frazer is the voice of god. Jah Wobble is the bass of god. Jeff Noon is the word of god.

I'm feeling really quite hyper [in a good way] at the moment. My life has almost no structure right now - but I'm getting so much more done it's entirely worth it. Focus. I keep using that word all of the time in the hope that I'll have some.

So I've been doing some regular meditation and visualization - focusing on some realistic goals for the first time really - and it's starting to work. I've always had an interest in the makings of 'magick' - I've just never called it magick really... It's just what you do. It's like having tea or coffee for breakfast - it's not out of place - because I'll be doing it on the bus or train, or at lunch, wherever - just fitting it in: why daydream when you can do it and mean it?

Too many thumbs - not enough pies...

Holy crap - I'm going to be in a film. Erm... scared...

Yes, it's a Saturday night and I'm still working - but it's fun so me not care. And I'm feeling inspired - by crikey! Because I don't have to do this see, I could have gone out and got splooshed, but I wanna CREATE... my god I'm turning into some kind of.... creative... person.... who.... does... stuff.... errrrr.... how.... not- normal...


Everybody wants to be in an 80's guitar based rock band

inane grin, leathery skin, poodle hair, terrible footwear, a serious gaze... Dadjeans and designer metal T-shirts.

Robbie Williams and The Spice girls have caught the bug: the comedy rock posturing, that kind of IkeaPunk attitude. As 'in your face' and politically keyed-up as a Ritz Cracker. Just the one, with no toppings,and as equally insubstantial. Vacuous beyond words. Laughabley thin production, those bass-free beats... so clean and so empty, the tragic school boy lyrics...

The all too serious sound check, the groupies, the total lack of IQ.

Bands like The Stereophonics and their 70's hair... those Dumb Ass expressions that suggest just how smelly and meaningless they really are. The gruff vocals, the fantastically vacuous delivery.

Hand picked, session-seasoned 'musos' for Robbie or Baby's backing band, 'really going for it' in that consumate drama school trained stylee... all smiles and trousers with nothing going on inside. Is this the face of Zeros youth? No, it's what we feed them.

Who's responsible? You are. We all are.

The latest genetically modified PopMetal: male models by day... painted pseudo metal heads by night: the same child-actor grins and choreographed poses. Too cute to be of any harm. OK, they're angry, but it's directionless and it's blind = offers no solutions to the crap it's complaining about.

Like Steps, but louder. Like if Steps were really cross about stuff. Like Nirvana if they'd all been aspiring male models plucked, preened, produced and scrubbed up by Stroke, Achin' and Water-retention.

Pete Waterman has almost single handedly destroyed my youth: I was fifteen in 1990 - I thought, I hoped and preyed that we'd seen the last of Kylie. I was very, very wrong. We had Nirvana, we had Curve, we RapRock, Acidhouse with Acidguitars, we had cool electronic shit and real, weak but sexy House.

Now, steadily crawling from the wreckage of the 20th Century, we have Strum and Bass, we have Sub Bangra frequencies, militant ArtPunk Divas, SpyPunk bands, DJ's using decks and military communications equipment, flanked by dancers twisting and tripping their way in and out of phase; drugs designed to erase the ID and comedown as an entirely different person, complete with a new address and wardrobe; conscious machines, faster than light music, actors and actress's from the past auditioning for the movies of the now.

Next week = everybody wants to be Merzbow.

Everyone wants to be a [Wedding Reception] DJ

For me, sadly, the notion of the DJ will almost inevitably signify the same thing for me: the birthday party wedding reception DJ with no records from the last ten years at all, because he doesn't understand all this modern crap.

They all have copies of Black Lace, The Birdy Song, Take That, Kylie and Jason, Jive Bunny, Status Quo, Meatloaf. These records, I'm convinced, must have come free when they bought the ancient Kay's Catalogue decks.

He [because the DJ is always a man] is in his late thirties, early fourties, he's losing his hair, and what's left he's had permed. Nice. It's longer at the back and it's swimming in gel. He's wearing a Bermuda shirt, leather trousers, trainers or cowboy boots. He's also wearing shades indoors - which would normally be cool accept that they are those orange tinted driving lenses and he's wearing an expression underneath like he thinks that he knows that you know they make him God-like.

And no, he doesn't do requests.

Not a massive amount of difference I know.

He's big on the Club scene: the Working Men's Club Scene.

This week, I are been mostly listening to Techno Animal, The Swans, Tom Waits and Radio XL. And no, I'm not a frustrated DJ, it's just my generation - but we had the human beatbox, and House was HOUSE in them days, etc...

Showing me age...

It's nice to have the place back to normal [I've actually plucked up the courage to start posting again] but I'm lost. I've a million and one ideas and I don't know where to shove them: I don't want to become a Rollo of all trades. Music, writing, nonsense. Filled another note book with things to do and little scenes. Etc. But it all feels insubstantial. No deadlines I guess. It's not so much writers block as writers incontinence...

Fuelling my thirst:

M = Pop Music
The Art of Noise = Tom Gunn Theme
The Blue Jam CD
Invisibles 3 -1 again and again
Jeff Noon - Pixel Juice
Mark Hollis album
Red wine and coke
New computer
Lila Says

Back to me notes..

Turmoil

Spent the entire day in a state of panic. What am I doing? Shouldn't I be doing something more productive? What should I be focused on? Who is this man? Who is he kidding? Ah!


Age of Aquarius / Long-count / Fish Symbol

From Mr Strieber's The Key


You have come to the end of the resources that were given you in the time that was given you. We measured the rate at which you would expand and grow very precisely, and fitted your development to a calendar we devised called the Zodiac. The constellations of the Zodiac are arbitrary inventions to enable us to mark the progress of the equinox and keep track of exactly where you are in your journey. At this moment, the little fish of Pisces is about to be spilled out onto the dry land by Aquarius. All you know how to do, little fish, is swim. How will you swim upon the dry land? Let me give you a hint: the water of Aquarius is the energetic body.


Also:

What you refer to as 'the consumer society' is actually a mechanism designed to ensure your proper transition from Pisces to Aquarius. After the suffering you are about to endure, mankind will never again lust after material wealth. You are about to suffocate in your own garbage.

Turmoil