Plums. "during times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act"

Iraq Body Count Project Leeds United Against Racism


A girl. A busstop.
Tyrone Shoelaces. Geddit? Oh dear...
Fabulous Janina, darling
Missy Roolz
The seaside boys
Julie: thinks she's Butch. Ha!
Lady of the Flowers Gives Gracious Audience
Karaoke Activist
Rollo Kim Reporting
Cherry's da Bomb
Mr.Disco's bitchin'
Daniel Byron, scion of a proud family
Past the Flyboy's arm
Notopia dreaming
Nelson Evergreen's readers Vikings
The Gorgeous Blonde
Mordant's beautiful when ze's angry
Mark likes big rubber sticks
The thinking blogger's Pin-up
E.Randy Dupre speaks. you listen
Antipopper:For The Unconditional Military Defence of Britney Against Sexist Witch-hunts

Places to Play

Foodie Treats
Hermetech Records
Thin Line - An SS/SB Archive
Bisexual Underground
Barbelith Underground
The Statesman
Bengal On The Web
Bad Subjects
Urban 75
UK Indymedia
Kick It Out
Leeds United FC

You wanna piece of me?
bitch the bitch

Wednesday, April 30, 2003
US kills two more Iraqis during anti-US demonstrations.

(This at a demonstration provoked by the US having shot and killed upto 13 people at a demonstration a couple of days ago.)

This as Donald Rumsfeld says that Iraq belongs to the Iraqis
Zap productions have finally got their Brighton Circus Festival 2003 site up.

Check it out, come on down, most of it's freeeeeeeee.

And I'm not performing of course, but if you time it right and its the kind of thing that floats yr boat you may well be able to find me hanging upside down in Preston Park somewhere on Sunday afternoon. Lots of free workshops, come and have a go...
Working very hard to keep 'consummate hipster' image in mind as I go to work. Clad in my cleaning gear, consisting atm of knackered pink trackies, baggy t-shirt and big hair. Sexy me, huh?

"Lookin' back on the track for a little green bag
Got to find just a kind or losin' my mind
Outside in the night, outside in the day
Lookin' back on the track gonna do it my way
Outside in the night, outside in the day
Lookin' back on the track gonna do it my way..."
Tuesday, April 29, 2003

I would like to point out that The Girl is in no way, nor ever likely to be, a breeder. Het, yes, dropping sprogs, a resounding no.

Apologies for any offence caused.
Oh, and have just woken up from an incredibly vivid dream featuring tedious people I went to school with, sitting in a cafe at 3am and talking endlessly about 'largin' it' .

I have seen hell, my friends.
Thanks to Fly, I know now what kind of hipster I am.

The Consummate Hipster: newbies bow to him, everyone else just stares, as he swagger down the street with
You are the Consummate Hipster. Newbies bow to
you, everyone else just stares, as you swagger
down the street with "Little Green
Bag" stuck in your head.

What Kind of Hipster Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

This doing the quiz with single and multiple answers. Ha.
Thursday, April 24, 2003
And now.. and now!

I'm sleepy and dopey and relaxed and 'time for bed'ish. At half eleven. Wowsa.

Am full of satay stir fry. and have Justin's 'Cry Me A River' on the in-head stereo. And yet even with all this contentment (you can't hear the relief dripping from every single word, can you? my god it's nice not to feel manic, crazy and exhausted) can't bear to watch any more of Girl, Interrupted.

Even for Angelina...

Fucking Wow Fucking Hallelujah. All Hail Edward Bach. And My Therapist

I got my first decent nights' sleep in two weeks last night. I did wake up once, at 3am, but my therapist said that this might happen a couple of times while my sleeping patterns readjust. Took some more mix and felt right back to sleep. I never fall right back to sleep. Ever.

And now I feel tired. Not bad tired, just tired, like someone who needs to catch up on their sleep does. The wired, jittery, Plumsonspeed thing that's become my baseline is *gone*. My head's slowed down, I no longer feel like this, *screamed* only yesterday. Feels experientally miles away/weeks ago:

"Had some interesting perspective today, while seeing a bach flower therapist about my insomnia/inability to sleep/mind-racing when exhausted stuff.

We talked about how I could really feel that there wasn't focus to my thoughts, but there definitely was obsession. That my tiredness/excess nervous energy blocked me from the progress/process thoughts that a focus involves, and instead involved repetition, getting stuck in familiar places, getting stuck with the holistic/experiential version of a skipping record."

And my instinctive response? To presume it's a placebo effect.
(not that I care, frankly, given how much better I feel.)

Damn me and my small-mindedness (only as regards me, I've been sending people in J's direction for a year or so now, in all sincerity). She said that given my extreme state and the powerful mix she was giving me I should feel an effect within days.

I wouldn't be dubious about Valium beng noticeable.after one days' dose, or cocaine, would I?

It's great. I feel good *and* like I learnt a real good lesson in openness today.
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Oh, and don't panic people, apart from this, life has been pretty good. Socially butterflying about tahn and getting some major beachtime in. Going and sorting out therapy is a major piece of self-nurturing in Plumsworldterms, so I'm feeling suitably pleased with myself...

Was also odd because the therapist is someone I helped give (listening skills) training to in another organisation. So was discombobulating to find myself her client, and not to turn things round into a 'how are you' session. Fortuntely, J is far too old a hand for that, and gently but firmly put the focus back on to me...

Typically for a mental health/therapist type, I have been appalling in the past at getting help/treatment for my stuff. Am a damn sight better at this, and improving steadily...
Am banking on my newly acquired potion to do the trick re the sleeping nightmare and attendant fuckedness. If it does, feels like it'll be in the nick of time....

I'm sick of walking through treacle and seeing through vaseline... and I can feel myself lingering/obsessing over things I can't change, taking unpleasant but comfortably familar refuge in passive replays of past events, not having the energy to work on things I can, to engage, get active, move on....sadness, anger, resentment, old bad habits resurfacing.... Sleep is so important, can really feel the cracks opening...

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Bach Flower Remedies, the therapist prepeares a personalised mixture, having asked a whole bunch of questions invovling what western medicine would separate into physical, emotional, mental/intellect/energy/digestive-based factors...

It's an odd process in itself, occupying a space between a counselling session, psychiatric interview, confessional, doctor's appointment...Found myself unexpectedly in tears at one point, following what would seem an innocuous question about my sleeping patterns... Experienced myself as a holistic enitity, could almost trace the connections between processes that I'm usually only able to experience once I've quantiified them as mental/emotional/physical etc, even though I tend to then weave them back together... A weird, interesting and exciting experience.

On the other hand, maybe I just need some fucking sleep. Cross your fingers that this works folks, things are getting silly now...(I have very good reports of this therapist's work from our clients, so am cautiously optimistic)

An Undeniably Glorious Thing is that this wonderful woman volunteers her services, so I can access what would otherwise be prohibitively expensive therapy for a couple of quid... This gets you a consultation and individually mixed remedy. There's no limitation on length/regularity of treatment...

A second UGT is the space which facilitates this therapy, the Brighton Women's Centre. They provide a wide range of cheap or free therapies, counselling and computer/phone/creche access, information on everything you could ask for, a safe space to relax, sexual health advice/free contraception and much more.

A bunch of incredibly dedicated volunteer helpers/therapists and a handful of paid staff, operate on a shoestring budget to provide Brighton with a vital and wonderful resource.
Tuesday, April 22, 2003

We're almost certainly (crosses fingers/touches head/wood/lucky leprechaun's foot) going to be playing Premiership footba next season.

Thank fuck

(and tonite I listened to the match and gabbled with a similarly-obsessed, similarly-stuffed-for-football-chums chap. I get very excited about these conversations, as they're very rare in Plumsworld. He's a Villa fan, So you know what we're doing, last day of the season. there'll be beer, and cussing. and a sleazy oldskool gay pub, knowing him)

And I really didn't think I'd ever say this, but how I *heart* Mark Viduka, let me count the ways etc...
learnt in conversation this evening that apparently the 30's euphemistic term for gay man was 'musician', as in 'he's a terribly nice chap, but he *is* a musician, you know....'

ohmygod. The Annotated Wimsey. I'd always wondered what 'placetne magistra' actually meant....
Perhaps GWB should be in line for the Nobel Peace prize. He has after all liberated Iraq and managed to get the Shi'ites and Sunnis in the same marches/round the table, within a fortnight.

Nice work.

More here
More goodness:

Young, gifted and black
How I long to know the truth
There are times when I look back
And I am haunted by my youth

Oh but my joy of today
Is that we can all be proud to say
To be young, gifted and black
Is where it's at

(from Young, Gifled and Black, 1969)

Four Women:

Nina Simone

My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is wooly
My back is strong
Strong enough to take the pain
It's been inflicted again and again
What do they call me
My name is AUNT SARAH
My name is Aunt Sarah

My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me
My name is SIFFRONIA
My name is Siffronia

My skin is tan
My hair's alright, it's fine
My hips invite you
And my lips are like wine
Whose little girl am I?
Well yours if you have some money to buy
What do they call me
My name is SWEET THING
My name is Sweet Thing

My skin is brown
And my manner is tough
I'll kill the first mother I see
Cos my life has been too rough
I'm awfully bitter these days
because my parents were slaves
What do they call me

You'll be sadly missed
Monday, April 21, 2003

When the darkness appears and the night draws near
And the day is past and gone
At the river i stand
Guide my feet, hold my hand
Take my hand precious lord, lead me home

R.I.P. Dr.Nina Simone, singer, lyricist, musician writer, activist 1933-2003:

"Jazz is a white term to define black people. My music is black classical music,"

Saturday, April 19, 2003
Gender. It's a funny old world, innit?
Should be I concerned that Atomic Kitten are really speaking to me, maaaaaaaaan. Or embrace my inner scene queen and go down Revenge dragging my 'poof trapped in breeder body' girlfriend with me? Or conclude that my last post and this are somewhat connected and that normal service will be resumed shortly...

It's true what they say, 'gay men and little girls, they're the ones that know'

So which one am I?
Friday, April 18, 2003
The tiredness is getting somewhat altered state, as anyone who's spoken to me over the last coupla days will attest. It's actually quite interesting. (I'm only sanguine as I will hopefully have it sorted Wednesday)
Look heads, if you want me to play your city, I'd venture to guess you've checked out this site, or one of my records, and you know me a little bit. You know that I'd LOVE to play your city. The reason I haven't played your city yet is not that it hasn't occurred to me -- believe me, I've spent many a night in bed with a flashlight and an atlas, masturbating to detailed fantasies of a Cex show in Peoria, IL or Jacksonville, FL or Truth and Consequences, AZ. It's true.


Find a space with some speakers I can plug in to, design a good flyer, then email me so we can pick out a date and negotiate the exact amount of money that we'd each need to spend to get me down there. This is the only way I can play a show. I honestly wish I had the car with the magic gas tank and stomach with the magic stomach lining and calendar with the magic free days that people like Mr. imply that I have, but until my Ebay searches for "magic stomach lining" and "infinite gas tank car" start turning up something, we're going to have to talk about promoters and money and dates and all that boring shit.

And this:

If you happen to send an email and do not get a response, please don't be offended or upset. Lately I've been getting more emails than a single man can handle -- even a man who is as extraordinarily excited by emails as me. Sometimes I'm out of town; sometimes I have social calls. Sometimes I'm in a bad mood.

how cute?
Oh, and in trying to find something on Sabbath, I stumbled across the Cex website. He did a great set at Sabbath a while ago; and check this from the intro:

Maybe it's a little vain, but how vain is not ever talking straight to the people, acting like some magic hermit who keeps mystical secrets locked in his laptop? F that. I'm in this game to bleed out the secrets on stage so we can paint things on our bodies together with the blood-secrets.

So what you are getting with the Cex web site here is a close-up, candid, and none of the acne airbrushed out. It's a picture of my real face.

What I can't help you with is a lot of weird, futuristic graphics with vague misinformation, scarce text, and intellectual posturing. Look, I'm not smart enough to write about the future with flash animations. And I will not write about myself in THIRD PERSON on my OWN WEBSITE that I CLEARLY MAINTAIN. God.

I'm basically a little boy and I don't always do the right thing, and sometimes I make mistakes. A lot of times I make mistakes.

I think I love him.
fuckingbuggerbollockarsewankKilroy (Kilroy is my new swearword, after realizing in conversation how much I hate him)


But, life is actually purdy good.

Danced myself silly yesterday at Sabbath. Music/atmosphere fantastic, being surrounded by mates (its basifcally mah local) great, watching other people go for it, being, insomniacal wiredness played out in hard fast dancing, puching, slinking, bumping, slicing the air with hands, spinningout (achey old plums today. always sign of a good night)...

All combining to give me a pretty full-on Ecstasy contact high. Haven't had one of these for aaagggggggeeees, good couple of years. Felt it really strongly. Drugs for free/without attendant seratonin slump. Fucking great. And so unexpected and odd.

Was actually quite a shock leaving the club and snapping instantly back to baseline.

Then tonight, catching up, meeting new folk, talking performance art and pretension/the whole fascinating question of the documenting/recapitulation of performance artworks, admiring the specially designed pack of three beermats....artskoolnonsense, basically.. Might even be producing some nonsense myself.

Thursday, April 17, 2003
I judge the weather by clothes. Eg last week it was the first 't-shirts on the beach' day of the year. And today was even better, we were (briefly according to the weathermen, grr) in 'vests/ 3/4length trews/ sandals' season. Glorious.

Can tell I'm feeling summery when Kirsty MacColl's 'Tropical Rainstorm' becomes essential no.1 listening again. One of the best pop albums of the last ten years...

from England 2-Colombia 0
You lied about your status
You lied about your life
You forgot you have three children
You forgot you have a wife
Now it's England 2 Colombia 0
And I know just how those Colombians feel

It is not in my nature to ever pick the winning team
Sometimes I think I'm happy then I remember it's a dream
Now it isn't in my nature to ever pick a winner
I always pick a bastard who would have me for his dinner

from Autumngirlsoup
Get me on the boil and reduce me
To a simmering wreck with a slow kiss
To the back of my neck
Carve up my heart on a very low flame
Separate my feelings then pour them down the drain
Close my eyes and sweeten me with lies
Pierce my skin with a few well chosen words

from Wrong Again
I thought my karma might protect me
From any harm you might subject me to
That my heart could be ruled by my brain
Wrong again
So you took a little piece of me
Laid me open for the world to see
But if I meant so little to you
Why couldn't you just leave me be?
It wouldn't have made so much difference to you
But it meant the whole world to me

Kirsty had such an evocative and yet offbeat lyrical style; her vignettes are incredibly vivid and touching. All this and fantastic Cuban-inspired pop. And *that* voice, by turns angry, vulnerable, nostalgic, seductive, coquettish, blistering, regretful, empowered....

A sad loss. Bigging this gives me a chance to recount my favourite Kirsty story, told to me by the much-more knowledgeable busstopper. During the recording of the album, Kirsty brought rock pals Keith Richards and Jonny Marr, two of the most cheerful men in pop, in to put down some guitar tracks. After hours of retakes and gallons of whiskey, at two in the morning they record the perfect take. It sizzles, they can feel its rightness, and are rightly congratulating themselves when the intercom from the producers' booth buzzes and Kirsty speaks:

"about bloody time"
Catching up with the Bust Op Blog after an unforgivably long time, I read this and am instantly grinning. More of this for you honey, if there's any justice. Much more. No-one deserves it more.
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
So Fraelyboy has designed some rather fine
T.W.A.T T-shirts

T(he) W(ar) A(gainst) T(errorism) . Of course.

So he's wandering around the Lanes, collecting cash from outlets, modelling said apparel.

Sells one to a cheery guy who mentions that he's in a band, and would be interested in Fraeley doing some t-shirts for him. Cool.

Our hero asks what sort of band, they get chatting.

Turns out to be The Damned. F not having realised that he's chatting to Captain Sensible. (he then joshes him about his novelty record. Snooker Loopy)

Ah bless, eh?

Tuesday, April 15, 2003
Ooh. Lil' Claire (I think, if we're going to go with a longstanding nick, she'd prefer The Gorgeous Blonde) has a blog.

I'd just like to point out that I love this woman dearly, in spite of

a)her taste in music.

b)the fact that she likes liiving in Southampton. Likes. Living. In. Southampton

true love? i think so.

Oh, and congrats to the senior partner on getting a fab new job, about seven days into dolescumlife. The defintion of 'snapped up', yes?

You rock, sweetheart.

Now I see what Flux meant about wanting to see what happened after I got very excited after last weeks' episode. (Sopranos, peeople. Do keep up) This one was way better. Balanced the pychological, space-creating moments with sudden sharp shocks... eg Artie's ear...

This week's episode tackled suicide/attempted suicide/suicidal ideation/survivors' guilt* (these in a psychologically convincing, genuine, non-pornographic way. Swop you the Sops for some hens teeth?) - raising the ghost of Gloria Trillo for Tony to deal with, class (again. Sops being one of the best treatments of subjectivity formation/dissolution by class you'll find right now. in this case class divides in relationships*... and (teenage) stereotyping. Tony jr.s Ultimate Wasp girlfriend is disappointed that he doesn't live in a compound....), romantic/sexual and non-r/s relationships in terms of the obligations/compromises/agreements they force*... and how close in tenor they can be at times* (Tony and Janice at dinner have the air of an old married couple... for better for worse... in a family-oriented culture, this applies even more to your blood family than to those you choose for love*...... the ever-present family relationship stuff, esp. the parent/child: (tony and carmela have *no idea*, do they? but in an utterly realistic 'parents of teenager'way*...

Mind you, professionally speaking, I find it a bit unlikely that Melfi wouldn't have terminated her session with Tony as soon as she realized he'd been at the armagnac* (see, he gets drunk on the free gift, w hich turns out to be the indicator of getting out of yr depth, and the provocation for suicide. and full of this, storms into his therapist's office with a 'house of cards' show of violence. nice. ) But she's on the ball enough to identify and ask Tony why he's so quick to assume blame for Gloria's death*... why does he find it so easy to feel assume he's 'Toxic'*, a recurring theme... in the grip of his response to Gloria's suicide he overcompensates materially everywhere* - with Carmela and the trust fund, Brian and the suits, the dinner for Janice(when have we *ever* seen him do this), and almost fatally, with Artie. From whom he took the armagnac. While overcompensating. Etc. etc.

This entire episode (see also Tony and Janice at dinner, being oh-so-surprised to find themselves relating as adults. Tony trying to learn from Janice, spooking them both. They take refuge in the expensive liquor (and revert to the more typical/reassuring relationship*, provide for me, brother...., the one they understand...).see also Furio, Carmela interesting herself in finding him dates, including him...) was an exercise in provoking 'hide-behind-the-hands'/cringe responses.

Christopher. Tony priming him, what a fucking joke, he can barely walk straight: 'Me and A had a bottle of wine'...

Tony: 'you're going to take this family into the 21st century'
'but Tony, we're in the 21st century
*stony slience from Tony*
C: *sudden realisation that he's said the wrong thing*, desperate attempt to make up: 'yeah, I'd follow you into hell....'

Gawd, C, please stop saying that, we all see you preceeding T into hell every time you say it...Shut up, child.

Cut to an extended illustration of why a smacked-up half-wit is a better bet than his own children... Tiny might be head of a Family, but he's not much good as the head of a family...

Tony summing everything neatly for Dr.Melfi ' I made a donation in her name'. It's sorted.

Yep. Of course it is.

I'm much too into this, aren't I?

*thought it might interrupt the flow (humour me,yeah?) to keep inserting (identify? moi?) every other line.

But, on the bright side, interpreting everything in 'roman a clef' mode is a much milder reaction that I usually have to stuff along these lines.(see The Hours)

I think I might be growing... Yikes
Okay, I'm really really going ths time. God, I love flexible working hours... let me count the ways...

... time spent relatively usefuly: actually eating breakfast for once, finally downloading Trillian (so if anyone wants get right at me, drop me a line at the bitchmail and I'l think about it, I seem to have lots all my contacts from AIM somehow, so don't assume I can get at you. this shoud hopefully save me a much -needed fortune in phone billls) and discovering How To Spot A Lesbian

Bloody hell, it's alot more complicated than I thought..

If you thought *that* was involved, don't get me started on how to spot a bi-type....

Bumping into someone in the bar at Bicon is probably a reasonable indicator... but you can never be sure in this queer old world, they could be a 'bi-friend', 'bi-sympathiser', 'bi-curious', 'queer het' etc *g*
Duh me, there's a whacking great MSN Brighton Circus Festival group.

It's a wonderful event, in its third year and going from strength to strength, the best international circuses perform alongside free smaller events and workshops.

Work. yes.
The internet. Six degrees of separation? Six?

Trying to find some accurate online information (Ha! But if anyone wants to buy some hen's teeth, I'm yer blogger) about the 2003 Brighton Circus Festival (17/18 May), I end up wandering around the Tunbridge Wells Juggling Club site. And discovering that the site owner's favourite blog is Plasticbag, the palatial online residence of the lord creator of Barbelith.

How odd.

Really should go to work.

The internet, rather more like Richard Smiths' description of UK gay dance labels as the music industry equivalent of his theory that 'you're only two shags away from every other gay man in the UK. You've shagged Boy A. Boy A has shagged Boy B' etc...
Monday, April 14, 2003
Posting on a blog is the purfect substitute for a life.

Posting on a blog is the (purfect) substitute for a life.

Posting (/on a blog/) is (/the purfect substitue for/) a life.

(Posting on) a blog is (the purfect substitue for) a life.

Posting on a blog is the purfect (substitue for a) life.


This to the person who found my blog when searching for 'evil lycra mistress'.

Sorry, I had to kick her out, she was leaving her bodysuits everywhere want me to pass on a message?


Rereading that Andy Martin article, if I ever have a band/club night/need a silly name, which is unlikely, admittedly, it's going to have to be:

(The) Tupperware Terrorists.

or possibly

(The) Pyschiatric Socialists

Pure Class. In the good sense.
'How to Marry a Millionaire' reminded me of just how beautiful Lauren Bacall was.

In a 'touch me and I'll kill you' way, of course.

(from reelclassics)

Did I say was?

Check out sliverscreensirens as well for lots of beautiful images of Bacall, Hepurn, Lamarr, Garbo etc. The styling is so perfect in 40s images.... Ultimate Glamour, darling...
Currently listening to Indecent Proposal- Timbaland/Magoo

Timbaland could produce Thora Hird reading a shopping list and it'd be good. Mind you, People Like Myself is a bit lame... Those 'primary school maracas' just don't work, luv.

(bear with him, he's new and fresh.)
Sunday, April 13, 2003

Enchantress from the Stars, and more importantly, Children Of The Star and The Far Side of Evil have been reprinted.

This is very important news in Plumsworld. These novels were a major part of the fabric of my childhood. I obssessed, wanted to be, thought I was Elana

The torture scenes in Far Side... stuck in my head for years, still do in fact. Elana, an Anthropological Service agent, has been sent to a planet as an observer. Things go wrong and she has to fake her own 'capture' and 'interrogation' by secret police. Scare quotes, because as a member of a more evolved civilisation, Elana could easily block the impact of the interrogation, but is not allowed to,as this would reveal her 'alien' status. So she must put her defences aside and suffer as a native would. The relationship built up between the 'captive' and interrogator is electrifying... as is the level of misunderstanding, uncertainty... eg the interrogator is puzzled why this young woman seems able to deal with his 'harsher'
physical tortures, but finds sensory deprivation genuinely terrifying...She is allowed to 'block' physical pain as she can do this without revealing her psychic skills, but cannot do so in the s.d. tank. So finds her subjectivity/consciousness beginning to dissolve... I remember finding this absolutely terrifying...

In fact, as you'll probably have already twigged, it occurred to me a good few years ago that buried somewhere deep inside an incredibly naive 10 year old, I had a powerful sexual/erotic response to these scenes....

Although, checking out Engdahl's page, I see that she specifically recommends these books for teenagers only. What where my parents thinking? *g*
Saturday, April 12, 2003
Oh, and via Joe, check out antipopper:

In the 'it'd be funny if it wasn't so desperate corner'(from the 'messy' Guardian article)

"There is also some embarrassment over Sheikh Muzahim Tamimi, the tribal leader appointed by Britain to take charge of Basra province. It has emerged that he is a former brigadier-general in Saddam Hussein's army and was once a member of the Ba'ath party. Several hundred protesters threw stones at his house earlier this week.

One theory circulating in London is that the sheikh was appointed accidentally because British intelligence confused him with his anti-Saddam brother (who turns out to have been shot dead by the secret police in 1994)."
Indian anti-war women's collective organise symbolic blood donation programme.

"Manasa is an autonomous women's collective based in Bangalore, India.
We strongly oppose the Iraq war. In support of the suffering people of Iraq, we are organising a blood donation programme "

"We give our blood to the people of Iraq, who have
endured twelve years of "the most pervasive sanctions
ever imposed on a nation in the history of mankind"
and are today being devastated by an unthinkable,
atrocious war.

We give our blood to Ariane, Mariam, and hundreds of
children like them in Iraq who are surviving on water,
too weak to eat, whose little bodies are fighting a
different kind of war: a war against deadly leukemia
or blood cancer, caused by the use of depleted uranium
in the 88,500 tons of ammunition used by the US and
its allies to bomb Iraq in 1991. "

"It is sheer folly to imagine that any of us is safe as
long as the Iraqi people suffer.

The effects of uranium radiation, present everywhere
in the food, water and air, devastating the Iraqi
people today is not confined to their bodies alone.
The life cycle of all living beings, our
interconnected water resources, and the unfettered
movement of goods in the free market, ensure that
right at this moment, radiation is reaching not only
us in India, but also, the people in the United States
and Britain; indeed, people everywhere. "

"By donating blood in the name of the people of Iraq,
this is our message to them: "You are not alone. The
precious blood you shed today is not just yours; it
diminishes all of us. When you suffer, the collective
human race suffers. When you are unsafe, we are all

The freedom you lose today is the loss of our
collective freedom."

Such are the consequences of the war and the
decade-long devastation of public infrastructure that
the blood we collect in the name of the women, men and
children of Iraq may not reach them. However, if it
reaches needy people in our own country, our act of
donating blood will not be in vain."

Click the link for the full text of their statement.

And well done to all those who participated in a protest today.

In Barcelona a group of protestors shut down the Burger King "restaurant" at Plaza Catalunya and opened a popular kitchen on the street in front of it (more pics) as part of the campaign "Active Boicott".

Check the pic. Indymedia barcelona English language site for more...
So. The 'war is over', and 'looting isn't a serious issue'. American combat troops are being asked to function and policers and peacekeepers. Good job, it's not as if there's anyone who's actually trained to do this, is it? But apparently(BBC News 24 report), in Baghdad, they're not policement and are staying out of it, even though locals are begging them for help... In Basra, Iraqi police, the front line of the Hussein's oppressive regime, are co-patrolling with UK troops. Er, hello? This ties in with 'liberation' how exactly?

But 'looting will die down', apparently, so that's alright then. Unfortunate turn of phrase

Talking of which, no need to worry, Iraq's just a bit messy at the moment. Could Donald Rumsfeld care any less?

I am messy. Hungover, sleepy and generally a bit rumpled and chaotic. I'm often a bit messy emotionally, a bit all over the place.

Iraq is not messy. Iraq is an unneccessary catastrophy in progress; a tragedy and an outrage.

Iraq is in chaos, violence, looting, the almost total collapse of the medical service, and water and electricity provision, are just some of the symptoms of a country disintegrating. BBC news24 shows a surgeon, mask and gown on and Kalashnikov in hand, needing it to defend his hospital. Last week he ran out of vital supplies as medical supply aid convoys were hijacked. This week, looters are stripping the hospital itself.

The humanitarian tragedy is only just beginning, and excuse me if I'm not terribly optimistic about the ability/desire of Rumsfeld, Bush and co to minimise the suffering. Would it be terribly cynical of me to suspect that the more Iraq tears itself apart, the more desperately it'll need the IMF/the US? The good old divide and rule (see also Korea) handed down to the US by their English forefathers...

Over the past week, the Bush administration and many others have made many jubilant comparisons to the fall of Communism. I find it genuinely terrifying that the Powers that Be apparently haven't watched their archive CNN tapes any futher than the Moment The Commies Got Theirs, thus seemingly remaining ignorant of the chaos, violence and anarchy that ensued as the former USSR split apart. And er, how about the former Yugoslavia? Or how in Russia the power vacuum was gleefully filled by organised crime?

What now? Turkey invading in the north to prevent the Kurds gaining control of the valuable oldfields/moving for autonomy? Syria next?

Internation co-operation, as represented by the UN, perhaps fatally damaged?
And in other news, the divine Loz has a blog. Rah.
Auntie Skater points us in the direction of an excellent essay by Andy Martin, ex-Apostle, on the anarcho-punk scene Here's a few choice bits, but it's well worth reading in its entirety. And hits a little too close to home to make for comfortable reading. Which is a very good thing. Touches on lots of very topical concerns, politics, activism, hypocrisy, The Trouble With Leftist Political Scenes, self-awareness, reflection, why people join the Revolutionary Communist Party (something I've always wondered about. )

"an as yet non-categorized collective of individuals who went on to industrial music, The Temple of Psychic Youth and occulture in a big way. Disadvantages: only two which spring to my mind. First of all, this group became by its very nature elitist and snobbery was rife: second and more importantly, the package was soon adopted: one read H P Lovecraft and Robert Anton Wilson, one quoted from Aleister Crowley, one forced oneself to be almost obsessed with Charles Manson, Jim Jones, William Burroughs, Bryon Gysin, the assassination of President Kennedy. dreamachines, Wilhelm Reich. Anton La Vey and who Genesis P-Orridge hates this week."

"But it’s easy to be both cynical and wise after the event. What did I have to be so proud about at this time? I was a member of the Revolutionary Communist Party (MarxistLeninist) because I was a revolutionary and it took at least six weeks for me to appreciate that Asians and Afro-Caribbeans really don’t need a band of middle class liberal tupperware terrorists ridden with white guilt to fight their battles for them and lead them on to socialism."

"Picture the evening vigilante squads I joined after I’d actually left the party – a gang of seething Asians who guarded their (capitalist) concerns (shops) from vicious racially motivated attacks by (working class) skinheads and fascist thugs (also working class) with me as the token whitey because I was opposed to racism and couldn’t care less whether my brothers and sisters had read ‘Das Kapital’ or not. That these angry Asians accepted me doesn’t mean that I’m anyone special – but it does mean that they knew what the RCP was and that they resented being used by a party which is probably as racist as ever was the National Front."

"Yes, we were all rather too political in those days; that way we didn’t need to look too closely at who – and what – we really were. I was lonely, a short and rather ugly young man who’d never had a girlfriend and joined a punk band as a possible means to further his career in amorous adventures."

"I also learnt that the loudest, most fanatical and unreasonable feminist elements were also those who tended to be male and sexually promiscuous. Ridden with guilt and desperate to prove their political credibility, such people required an enemy... rather like the RCP and other psychiatric socialists."

"Being neither a punk, an anarchist nor a pacifist, it is perhaps strange that I should have occasionally supported and even worked with Crass. However, as I hinted earlier, I was a communist who refused to toe the party line; this meant that I could work with people toward a commonly agreed goal. [...] I supported The Angry Brigade, armed insurrection against capitalist states and the education and politicization of the working class: I stood for gay rights, feminist issues and took an openly hostile stance against all forms of racism (l.e. not just white racism). Our position was both revolutionary and warlike. Je ne regret rien. We were often naive. We were never gullible. There’s a distinct difference"

"The bands behaved no differently to any other pop group in the commercial sense. They practised, rehearsed, played concerts (called ‘gigs’, a real rockist term) on a stage in front of an audience, often ended with an encore, posed and strutted around like Led Zeppelin (but without the musical ability) and then pretended this was permissible because it was in the name of anarchism. What rot! [..]

The covers frequently evoked all that is most despicable in egomania (the compulsory four members stand against a brick wall and look surly, a sombre reflection upon their hopes for fame and stardom) or else displayed an obsession with death and masochism which hardly promoted an attitude of libertarian optimism after all!"

"During the early 1980s there was an element of danger attached so even the most placid plaited hair event: skinheads."

"This was achieved in various ways. The Apostles used a direct method; we printed 20000 questionnaires and distributed them through the independent network of people who ran cassette and record distribution services. The questions simply asked for general basic information about hobbies, likes, dislikes, hopes, fears and so forth –nothing the CID) could use, you understand.

Addresses were supplied by those who wanted others to correspond with them. This scheme was not unlike a glorified pen-pal service but with the addition that we would try to ensure that people were linked by common aims and interests. It should be stated that it is people’s differences that really intrigue me but we decided to play safe when we dealt with people who had often been close to suicide over loneliness and their sense of isolation.

Those who could attend the social centres would meet and arrange other meetings with other people they encountered there and this series of chance meetings was by far the most successful and widely used method adopted."

"Live concerts also served as meeting places but due to the awful noise made by the bands, real communication was often prevented"
Having an oddly enjoyable hangover, oddly soothing to be floaty and vague. Yep. More so than normal.

How to Marry a Millionaire is helping loads, though.


C'mon TV, give me some of that sweet sweet pap...

"And now Cagney and Lacey"


(from this rather cool site of simpsons graphics)

Is it 'cool Women's Hour' on BBC1?

Cagney just said 'perp'

Perp! Yes!

(and she's wearing a beautiful pink cardigan, really brings out the bottle in her blonde)
Friday, April 11, 2003
IH: How long do you see Make Up lasting? Is that something you have thought about?
J: "Like an expiration date or something?"
I: "Well, we figure a lot of people retire into the church from rock n roll, because it's not subject to the whims of the market place. So that's what we're doing right now, so we've basically already retired. This is our retirement. The church always provides steady work."
PSC: As far the political message of your lyrics...maybe this is just me, but it seems like nowadays when people try to make a statement, or talk about revolutionary ideas, it isn't taken very seriously. People think that its a joke.

Michelle: Politics aren't taken very seriously anymore. America is so de-politicized that its actually grotesque. Its really sad.

I know a lot of bands...well, some bands are even political in a way that's supposedly like 'Oh, well, we're reactionary now.' That's about all it is. Obviously, there are a lot of bands who take politics seriously, but the way that... -well, that's what this is about. (Michelle holds up a copy of her zine.)

Ian Svenonius: Well, the PROBLEM is the way people think about politics. And the way politics are fed to us in a capitalist society.

Capitalism is an invisible ideology. Democracy is a veneer. Kind of a mask, right? The one person/one vote, blah, blah...

The governmental and political arm of life is this really abstract thing. So when people do talk about politics, it sounds like this really odious, boring thing that deals with white men in suits, old men in suits -and its completely divorced from their actual lives.

But in a capitalist society, industry constructs roads. (Industry) constructs the architecture that we have to live around. It constructs the kinds of transactions that we make. Everything, right? So that's why democracy is such a has nothing to do with what actually creates the conditions around us.

So when people are political, they have to subvert the idea of politics -as they exist today...Its like Raoul Vanegeim said in The Politics of Everyday Life, because everything that we do is political.

That's really an accepted idea now (the politics of everyday life), but the problem is people don't understand...they misuse that a lot. They use it to better one-another. You know? By saying 'Oh, you're allowed to say this,' or 'you're allowed to do this,' or 'I'm essentially more oppressed than you, because of my gender/sexual orientation/class/race/etc.' -but that's not the way that phrase is supposed to be used.

The revolution of everyday life is supposed to be used in the sense that you undermine the assumptions of everyday life that are fed to us. Like psychology, for example. Psychology -which we're taught to subvert any ideological tenet that we have. To sort of subvert any intentions that we have, by saying that everything is actually perverse/ulterior/ sexual/etc.

that's another thing: when people are political they put it in this humorless realm.
fThere seems to be a bit of a Vanilla meme in plumsworld right now.



Dance, Bum rush the speaker that booms
I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom
Deadly, when I play a dope melody
Anything less than the best is a felony
Love it or leave it, You better gain way
You better hit bull's eye, The kid don't play
If there was a problem, Yo, I'll solve it
Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it...

Quick to the point, to the point no faking
I'm cooking MCs like a pound of bacon

Yo -- so I continued to A1A Beachfront Ave.
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving Lamborghinis
Jealous 'cause I'm out geting mine
Shay with a gauge and Vanilla with a nine

Cut like a razor blade so fast, Other DJs say, "damn"
If my rhyme was a drug, I'd sell it by the gram

Think it might be time for An Ice Revival...

Echoing Fly on musical obsession, I'm currently unable to listen to anything except Make Up. Only have 'I Want Some' so far, a compilation of past singles, but it's on constant rotation. Haven't been this excited by a band for ever.

On the stuff I've heard, there are definite dollops of The Cramps, The Rolling Stones, Prince, Arthur Lee, classic Gospel, all the best garage-punk... You can hear the Nation of Ulysses roots, but it's such a leap forward from that. And they sound like they're having *such* a good time with it.

Re: The Make Up
From: The Rock N Roll Comintern

Due to the insidious CIA promulgation of Make-Up clone groups on an
international scale which pervert and distort the message and trajectory
of the 'Gospel Yeh-Yeh' form; the Make Up Organization, in conjunction
with the Central Commitee of the Rock N Roll Comintern, has determined
that a new phase of it's operation must commence; a "total war" against
the collective enemy. In the meantime, a tactical retreat into the
underground. To our brothers and sisters and all who've supported us,
keep up the struggle against bourgeouis mediocrity; and in the words of
the murderer imperialist pig Douglas Macarthur: "We shall return".

Wow. Via Fly, Nelson Evergreen's illustrations for Gulliver's Travels and Frankenstein. This guy's seriously talented.
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Oh, and in the slightly-more-justifiably-nostalgic corner...

Lyrics I have been hearing, part 2

I'm movin' on up now
Gettin' out of the darkness
My light shines on
My light shines on
My light shines on...

And I refuse to link to Primal Scream's site cause it's just too annoying for words. Got carried away with Flash, did we, boys?
Extract from Garber's Stanford lectures on Cross Dressing and Cultural Anxiety...

"Between is properly used of two," wrote Samuel Johnson in his dictionary in 1755, "and among of more." Ever the realist, he added, "But perhaps this accuracy is not always preserved." Indeed it is not. The American dictionary-maker Noah Webster observed "that between is not restricted to two." The editor of the Oxford English Dictionary, Sir James A. H. Murray, surveyed past practice from the vantage point of 1888 and reported, "In all senses between has been, from its earliest appearance, extended to more than two." He concluded, as William Safire notes, that "between is still the only word available to express the relation of a thing to many surrounding things severally and individually, among expressing a relation to them collectively and vaguely." Wordsmith Safire himself generally prefers between for two, and among for more than two, but says he would "feel more comfortable with 'the battle between Japan, Europe, and America' because it is a battle between Japan and Europe, between Europe and American, and between Japan and America" ["Betwixt Among and Between," "On Language," New York Times Magazine, September 12, 1993, pp. 28-30].

Is bisexuality a relationship between or among? As we have seen, those who confuse or conflate bisexuality with nonmonogamy, and nonmonogamy with group sex, tend to think of it as a tangle of bodies or body parts. This is not only because the fantasy of three-in-a-bed is exciting [...], but also because of the difficulty of visualizing or conceptualizing bisexuality except as triadic, triangular, kinetic, or peripatetic.'

According to some definitions, though obviously not those of self-identified bisexuals, a person who used to be straight and is now with a same-sex partner or partners is gay, and a person who used to be gay and is now with an opposite-sex partner or partners is straight. This "law of the excluded middle" excludes bisexuality, which, in some people's minds, must be concurrent or simultaneous in order to be real. "Sequential" bisexuality is just wishy-washy hetero- or homosexuality, and "situational" bisexuality (in same-sex schools, prisons, the armed services, or the locker room) is just fooling around or making do.

A three-dimensional diagram of bisexuality, or, as I have already suggested, a Möebius strip, comes closer to drawing this undrawable line. The following description, in actuality that of a shoelace, will give a sense of the in-and-out-ness of the Möebius path:

In its rewinding passing and repassing through the eyelet of the thing, from outside to inside, from inside to outside, on the external surface and under the internal surface (and vice versa when the surface is turned inside out...), it remains the "same" right through, between right and left, shows itself and disappears (fort/da) in its regular traversing of the eyelet, it makes the thing sure of its gathering, the underneath tied up on top, the inside bound on the outside, by a law of stricture
Unclined to sleep, I find myself fantasy book-shopping. I really shouldn't do this, and discovering Amazon's sample pages really doesn't help matters...

The contents/contributors of the 'Bisexual epistemologies' section have the dormant theory-btich in me sitrring. And drooling...


"But most bisexuals, needless to say, do not think of themselves as "having it all" in the sense of an easy life. Many describe their isolation or ostracization from the gay or queer community, and their sense of apartness from the world of "heterosexual privilege" in which many gays and lesbians have long thought them to be seeking refuge. If "having it all" and "having things both ways" imply repletion and total satisfaction even in the face of contraditionc, "having your cake and eating it, too" with tis tacit monitory prefix (you can't have...") suggests that retribution, whether from individuals or from society as a whole, is somehow on its way. (So there.)

I suspect that some of the animosity toward bisexuals, what the bi movement has come to call "biphobia" is based upon a puritannitcal idea that no one should "have it all" "Choice", itslef a contested word inn some queer circles is taken to imply choosing against, as well as choosing with--"not choosing" something as a way of choosing something else. And politically speaking, choosing a person rather than a label or a category is often seen as denial rather than acceptance. Especially for those who feel they have "no choice" about their sexuality "

I love Garber's writing(which is definitely not to everyone's taste). But if you like the look of this, check out Symptoms of Culture and of course Vested Interests: Cross-Dressing and Cultural Anxiety.
Oh, and reading, back over my recent posts I seem to be talking about sex an awful lot.

That'd be spring for you... when a young girl's fancies, an' all that....
(warning, dollops of clubbing nostalgia follow. For things from, like, 1997. Jeez.)

Okay, so someone was asking me who the 'much lamented Kemistry' was.

Kemi Olusanya aka Kemistry was one of the major movers and founders of the UK Drum 'n Bass scene, and 'not a lot of people know that' she was responsible for introducing Goldie to the then-nascent scene, *and* giving him his first DJ slot. She also, along with Goldie and her DJ partner Storm, set up and ran MetalheadZ, the record label responsible for some of the pivotal records of the first major wave of D 'n B (and on a personal note, responsible for some of my best nights out in London. I still nurse an incredibly childish grudge against Bluu for rising from the ashes of one of my favourite clubs and providing Hoxton with Yet Another Bar. ). She was also a huge influence on, and encouraged people like Adam F, J Magic to make D 'N B records/get involved in the scene.

An amazing woman.

So yeah, referenced in that rant for being damn good DJs, appearing to have a great time making great music and (along with DJRap) for being for a long time the only visible women in an incredibly-male dominated genre, the trailblazers. K&S were always very conscious of encouraging, by example, other women/young girls to get involved, make music, DJ, make a career...

More info, soundclips from their contribution to the DJKicks series.

Do a search at
Thump Radio for a set from 1999.

(On a slightly more flippant note, wft is Goldie talking about on that site: "You know who I am; I know who you are. Now ingest and digest the site using the links on the right.". Err, yeah, mate.)
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Finally got around to seeing Channel Four's 'The Truth About Lesbian Sex', the other night. And I seem to be doing most of it right. Well enough to pass, anyway...

It was mix of the so-so: a good deal of it..

The unsuprisingly cringeworthy: 'so, how do women manage to have sex without penises, we'll show you...after this break'

And the glorious, watching Shar and Jackie demonstrating fisting with a cushion vagina, doing their no-nonsense and funny sex-education thing and demonstrating a variety of strap-on positions. Have been a big fan for quite a while now, but we hardly ever get to see them over here. A wonderful surprise treat.
A beautiful snatch of dialogue from Blue Steel, on a couple of nights ago:

Dorky guy: you're a goodlooking, attractive woman, how come you want to be a cop?

Jamie Lee Curtis: because I like slamming people against walls.
Check out Sitcom and Water Drops on Burning Rocks also.
Alright, and lots of very sexy pictures of the 8 Women cast.
Ozon's own site is fascinating, lots of interviews and insights into his directorial project, as well as lots of visual material, vital to any discussion of his work.
Various conversations have reminded me of the glorious 8 Women, one of my favourite films of the past few years. And prompted me to go digging for interviews with Francois Ozon.

With this film, it was special, because the story comes from a play, and I didn't want to lie about the origin. Because it was an artificial film, about actresses and characters, I wanted the audience to never forget they were in front of a film.

My problem with "reality" in film is that it is also a manipulation. There are many choices in mise en scène, all the time. I think, when I make an artificial movie, I say to the audience, "It's fake, and I'm beginning the manipulation." As a result, the audience is more and more able to be adult in front of images--because you are used to seeing images all the time, you can project them onto anything.

Ozon's stated aim of making cinema that maintians distance makes for some interesting viewing experiences.
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Mmmm. The Sopranos. Pomodoro ripieni di riso. With improvised and delicious spinach/ricotta sauce, leafy salad and garlic dough balls. Beers. Similary addicted friend for post-mortem and giggles.

Cliterati links page. Lotsa goodness
I wants it, but I can't have it.


Saturday, April 05, 2003
remember Plums, everything looks shite at 4am when yr not at home and all the rooms have occupants so you can't watch telly/read books/listen to music/knock yrself out with Calms/excellent scotch and are reduced to tapping away here as quietly as poss so as not to go totally gaga. and the birds are tweeting. and you need to be up at 9. warm milk just don't cut it.

repeat to fade...
Mordant and Lurid are safely in Barca.

That's right, they're living in one of the most beaut cities in the world. Have a wonderful time, darkies*...

*FYI they're somewhat gothic, I'm not a racist.

Not a racist.
Friday, April 04, 2003
Having subdued the adolescent cry of 'yr so tragic yr sat at home on a Friday night' and the post-adolescent ' you have no friends', realising that chilling out at home is loverly and I'm too tired, skint and plain uninterested to be social anyways ...

Getting domesticated and transforming what had turned into a 'Young Ones' bedroom back into the swelegant Plums Place is such a relief. The place was becoming dangerously reminiscent of the Worse Student House Ever, where wading through 10cm depths of pizza/takeaway boxes/books etc was only broken up by occasionally discovering you'd stood on an incredibly rare piece of vinyl/expensive guitar/rat.

Combine this with vast amounts of acid/mushrooms/booze, stir... and panic. :)

Spending quality happy time with myself, planning a few long-overdue home improvements. Reading Harry Potter originals and fanfic, pondering having a slash..

Now to be honest, I'm not much of a writer in the stylish, evocative technically-gifted senses, as is probably apparent (more your basic, self-indulgent, occasionally competently therepeutic/academic/exploratory writer, me.) but I think what the what the world needs is more poorly written Snape/Black.


I did, long ago, write terrible porn 'professionally', so I'm hoping there are transferrable skills... We'll see I guess.

See, I've gone from a total ignorance of slash/fan fiction, to a vague awareness of, to an enthusiasm for the odd pairing - provoked in part by the wonderous Smallville, which as far as I can tell is tvslashing complete in itself, rendering Smallvilleslash gloriously pointless, to the beginnings of(humour me, kay?) an obession with a specific pair, in about a year or so. So it's all new and fresh and odd... Touched for the very first time etc. And the amazingly variable quality of slash is constantly interesting, and encouraging to an extent. There's something very approachable/accessible/punk about it which appeals.

There's alot of it about. Slash link - don't click if you find slash (see above def)/porn/m/m sex etc offensive, or if you're under 18 etc

People are talking...


Cold beers, and digging through my luscious lovely vinyl.

On rotation:

Joy Division Still (which rather worryingly, yahoo lists under Goth. Have I just been fooling myself about being in remission?)
Marc Almond - The Stars We Are
Roxy Music- Manifesto
Roxy Music- For Your Pleasure
The Make-Up- I Want More
And ooh, whatever I decide to surprise myself with next. mm-mmmm.

And in case anyone's wondering what the point of this stunningly banal entry is, it's a reminder to myself. I'm quite happy at the moment. It's good. I need reminding of this constantly. Its what this place is *for.

For you lot?


Although for balance, a nervously-anticipated review with my doctor turned into a love-fest, where I explained how I'd been feeling alot better, and just have to rein in my impatience, given that I'm now feeling well enough to imagine life beyond next week, wanting to have everything sorted and better, and to be getting on with Big Things, NOW. And that I've probably reached the End of the Beginning, when I want to be at the Beginning of the End, in terms of the work i've got to do, my process.

Talked about trying really hard in future to keep on the A-Ds, and to value what they're doing for me, the huge part they're playing in my gradual facing of the Big Scary Stuff, instead of being sulky and equivocal. That my healing improvement is about a combination of personal cirucs being more favourable, the A-Ds, the counselling kicking arse at the moment, perhpas the weather, friends, etc...

And she told me that I seemed miles better than when I'd last slumped into her office wanting to die/to sleep for ever and that she could see and hear how much improved I was, and that she understood that being (a) patient (ha!) was difficult. And that she was really pleased for me, and that maybe part of my improvement was just down to my own hard work paying off.

Which was so great to hear.

So spent tuesday/wednesday bouncing about in the Best Mood Ever, feeling from the heart that I'm doing things the right way for me, and that I'm gradually learning to trust myself in most situations and to identify the ones where my 'instinctive'or typical judgement is warped, and needs to be kept an eye on. Wandering around town, along the gloriously sunny seafront singing out loud, practically skipping. Exhilirating being alive.


Which is useful for me to remember today, in 'blah' land. it's just the filters, I'm okay.
Companionable blah

Went to see Frida with a friend (and the critic in me sees big problems with it, but I loved it, coming soon a big old rave/sudden adolescent desire to be hard-drinking incredibly talented artist hanging around the 30's Mexican artistic/political scene) I hadn't seen for a while.

After much mutual raving, alked to her about how incredibly diificult I find it admitting to vulnerability, sadness, when they're going on. I specialise in the throwaway 'oh yeah, last week I was crying all week/didn't leave the house/felt like shit. but i'm okay now' type of communication. Which tries and often succeeds in precluding comeback, enquiry.

And then about how I'm gradually developing awareness of who wants to hear this stuff and who doesn't, of who's appropriate, rather than assuming no-one does. And finding halfway spaces where I can 'write out' what's going on inside. Which aside from having some kind of exorcism-type effect, gives me distance, perspective, and a way of analysing and grappling with the 'shtuff' , rather than leaving it as one amorphous and often terrifying swirl of feelings, fear, pain.

And feeling the amazing healing power of getting used to being around someone else without having to strap on a jolly face/'play nice' etc. But instead being able to admit I feel a bit crappy and non-communicative, or to moan, talk out the stresses, pains. Not following my instinctive route of locking myself away the instant I feel a little down, like some kind of psychological leper.

Or to just sit in a room with someone silently and comfortably, smoking, drinking cool beer, and listening to No More Shall We Part.

Small things. But to me, amazing.
lyrics i have been hearing:

David Bowie's Fill Your Heart:

Fill your heart with love today
Don't play the game of time
Things that happened in the past
Only happened in your Mind
Only in your Mind-Forget your Mind
And you'll be free-yea'
The writing's on the wall
Free-yea'. And you can know it all
If you choose. Just remember
Lovers never lose
'Cause they are Free of thoughts unpure [sic]
And of thoughts unkind
Gentleness clears the soul
Love cleans the mind
And makes it Free.

Happiness is happening
The dragons have been bled
Gentleness is everywhere
Fear's just in your Head
Only in your Head
Fear is in your Head
Only in your Head
So Forget your Head
And you'll be free
The writing's on the wall
Free-yea'. And you can know it all
If you choose. Just remember
Lovers never lose
'Cause they are free of thoughts unpure
And of thoughts unkind
Gentleness clears the soul
Love cleans the mind
And makes it Free!!


from Nick Cave's Sorrowful Wife.

I married my wife on the day of the eclipse
Our friends awarded her courage with gifts
Now as the nights grow longer and the season shifts
I look to my sorrowful wife
Who is quietly tending her flowers
Who is quietly tending her .....

The water is high on the beckoning river
I made her a promise I could not deliver
And the cry of the birds sends a terrible shiver
Through me and my sorrowful wife
Who is shifting the furniture around
Who is shifting the furniture around

Now we sit beneath the knotted Yew
And the bluebells bob around our shoes
The task of remembering the telltale clues
Goes to my lovely, my sorrowful wife
Who is counting the days on her fingers

Just call me yo-yo. :rolleyes:
Thursday, April 03, 2003
For own ref, but others might find it interesting, list of various CS thinkers/approaches with particular emphasis on (feminist)post-colonial work.

I'm a bad Dayglo Goddess, I know fuck all about post-colonialism.
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
But, lets not forget: the Guardian's timeline, day 14 of the war

via Indymedia, Iraq peace team, a site with extracts/reports/diaries from members of the team, still in Iraq.
England 2-Turkey 0.

And while the start was worryingly evenly-matched, after the break England played as well as I've seen then since the World Cup. Passion, commitment, skill, teamwork, excellent running on and off the ball. Almost every player impressed in the second half, despite some wobbles in the first. And this against Turkey, a quality side stuffed with players from top German, Italian, Spanish and Turkish clubs.

The way England gradually exerted pressure over one of the best midfields in Europe, and managed to contain and then overpower them was very encouraging. For once we played up to expectations, and didn't choke.

Talking of expectations, Rooney was incredible; calm, skilled, a major influence in his first start, as the youngest England players ever. Has the lad never heard of nerves?


gah. hungover and have to go work. boo. hiss. really should go right now. really shoulda gone an hour ago.

going now
more drunken ranting, but am actually pretty pleased with this, think its something I've been tryinig to articulate for a good long while. and feels much better out than in:

"have been trying to stay away cause this is going to mean ranting...been picking over this...

The unthinking, herdlike, Pop Idol-watching masses and people who use terms like "the unthinking, herdlike, Pop Idol-watching masses"

very nice and easy if you don't have to deal, as i suspect those of you who subscribe to this, don't..but pretty crappy as a cultural attitude nonetheless. nice and easy to be so vitriolic if this isn't yr stuff...yr defining yrself against it pretty strong, which suggests a certain level of comfort/distance.

but my imagining that such folks should be instantly reborn as those they despise for a bit of fucking understanding and empathy. to realise how fucking close/unable to be superior they are, is prolly on the same scale.

have been yr sketch. am now.

and not swopped back, as to them, being viewed as part of the appalling(sp?) working class, tabloid-driven lumpenproles would probably be the worse fate poss. gah.

doubt it would produce any empathy, sadly, but would be fucking amusing.

as well as:

theoretical multiculturalists/queerists.

who are very sweet at times, and very useful. not decrying them but for duality purposes...

it's very easy to put 'woolly liberals who don't belong to these groups but feel that they should stand alongside'/to feel that they can talk to overpatroniised members of these groups who have to deal with the crap.

Which is not to say that sympathisers have no validity, but more a personal thing of realising that very few people I know share my viewpoint and are unable to. Because I'm a reasonably sucessful 2nd gen kid and am broadly middle class, I guess, prolly lower middle if you asked me to define.

And the successful bit relates to having done a wee bit of social climbing. (anyone else have this?), and so being in my case apparently about leaving the very definitely non-english stuff behind. so being with people who can't really appreciate where I've come from. that's what we're meant to aspire to.

And the rest is about being very fucking aware that i'm really fucking lucky not to have to deal with the extra shit of being non-white and nonetheless I still have to be twice as good as the next person to attain career goals.

an interesting paradox. or fucking annoying..

sorry, this seemed topical at the time.

so - white - non-white.

a duality that all over the western world has big fuck off impact.

enuff. already"
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
gawd. drunken ranting on Barbelith again, haven't done this in a while:

"I think. Ideally, I think that punk should make people feel a sense of "I could do this. I'm a big weirdo, and I don't fit into any (musical) stereotypes, but I can go up there and be myself and do it." (quoted, this was flux)

My emphasis in quoting flux as punk was much more than not being able to fit into musical stereotypes, it was a wholesale attack on/rejection of stereotypes/cultures/lifestyles in culture in general. that's why the influence of punk stretches way beyonhd stylistically similar/invested scenes.

But my mention of Riot Grrl and Queer/Homocore fits perfectly with yr definition. they were *all about* this and often very punk in soound. And had alot more invested in it than alot of the original punk bands... due to seriously compromised/rstricted/dangerous lives due to gender/sexuality

Bikini Kill were a bunch of women personifying yr quote, basically. Specifically, as the Slits were, an 'I can go up there, by myself, a woman punk muso in a male scene, and do it on my terms' thing. Ditto Huggy Bear, L7. (quel surprise, only very derisory coverage in the Inkies, on this side of the Atlantic, anyways)

Sister George, another grand example of the inclusivity/invitation 'get up and do it, we're not stars' vibe and 'we hate the scene that bred us'/we critique where we came from' stuff...a fucking wonder *swoooon*.

And very Slits-ish, musically, at times. and very capable of having a great time. V bouncy, and very much a product of their east end/london roots...Mixed race/generation, mixed sex, mixed sexuality, music that was a product of all of this. (surprise, almost no mainstream coverage ever. and v.equivocal pinkpress mentions. they pissed people off.)

Mind you, Im not terribly surprised, as these scenes, which were very active in the early/mid 80s on both sides of the atlantic (excuse my refs being more uk-based, they were hard to find out about) were utterly ignored by the 'mainstream' indie press as the didn't fit in, and were a little too 'outsider' for people to be interested/appreciative.

And yeah, there's resentment in here, as I remember UK inkie coverage of these bands, when I was still very influenced by the NME/MM telling me essentially that it was crap as it was all over emotional/too political/tuneless/screaming/can't play their instruments women.

This last being the big problem, as men who screamed about their angst, out of tune, with basic chords were all the rage just then...

And also hence my use of the word 'influence' rather than the phrase 'sounds like'...And to answer fly's qu I don't neccessarily want my favourite bands to spawn lots of identical sounding bands, they're very rarely going to be as good(they won't be a surprise for a start and will have adapted their version of a deeply personal stance evolved from specificity(of band members, place, time, nationality, race, influences etc)) , but to impart their attitude/broader style in such a fashion that people extend and can mess with it...

how about blondie? pop, smiley, smidges of punk and reggae/calypso, girl-fronted/identified...

Elastica - female post-punk bouncy pop sound, lots of attitude?

Can I have people like Peaches, Miss Kittin, Smokin' Jo on the merging soundstyles, having fun, being female and getting up there and doing it tip? The late, very much lamented Kemistry, and Storm? Lil kim? Depends very much what you think the Slits were as to where you see their influence.

Erase errata sound fun, someone tell me about them.

'the best book about music and pop culture'. off the top of my head:

Time Travel-also John Savage, Seduced and Abandoned-Richard Smith, Feminism and Youth Cultures(I think) - Angela McRobbie, Altered States - Matthew Colin, Manchester, England - Dave Haslam, (if we include tv- the rhythmn divine-Smith/Savage/Sheryl Garrat. There was meant to be a book of this, which was pulled. arse.). oh and there's an amazing book about dub/reggae dancehall which i've lent out and the name of which escapes me, might be called 'blood and fire'.

ED *is* great. bold claims tho'

(God, you can't tell I dream of being Jon Savage/Richard Smith. Can you :rolleyes: )
Fly, I'm looking at you.

just posted this on Barbelith:

"the best book about music and pop culture"

...would actually be the one I'd write about boy bands, housewives' choices, riot grrl, dancehall, jungle, hardcore, r 'n b/hip hop and autonomous female space/interventions in male space. Ha. except you know I'll never get around to it, and don't have the skills/cash. ah well.

And I'm pretty sure Angela McR is already doing a far better job as we speak.


and didnt even believe the overblown claim even as i was writing. would like to be able to do it though. someone should, and it doesn't seem to be anyone doing this yet, all the 'women in music things' are women in rock, and too focussed on women as performers or consumers and don't value the important connections between these two positions... will one of the people who reads this and can write and isn't a depressed slacker do it? I'll settle for a dedication...
The Sopranos: a guy kicks shit out of someone else who's made weight cracks about his wife.

This isn't the interesting and bloody original bit, oh no. That's the scene where he and Tony discuss how 'it's different for women, they got body image, self-esteem shit to deal with', Tony conceeding the seriousness of the insult.

I *love* this programe


and now 'the gangsta view on chicks with dicks'
'Time Traveller' busting for insider trading, thanky Greggy for that:

In a bid for leniency, Carlssin has reportedly offered to divulge "historical facts" such as the whereabouts of Osama Bin Laden and a cure for AIDS.


Officials are quite confident the "time-traveler's" claims are bogus. Yet the SEC source admits, "No one can find any record of any Andrew Carlssin existing anywhere before December 2002."

(my emphasis, love the 'quite'...)

Powered By Blogger TM   

Weblog Commenting by