Wednesday 27 January 2010

The Art Of... Cycling.

Funny really. I remember the days, when I was growing up, in the back garden/down the park on my little Raleigh Domino (with stabilizers) trying to learn how to cycle! Then there was the day when I was unleashed from the shackles of the balance aids... Accidents, wobbles, and crashes happened. Then, the day came when I had learnt. I was free! Free to pedal to the shop to buy sweets. I would go one-handed, then confidently no-handed! Sweet!

I reckon I am back here now! (Except this time without the painful-crash-learning-stage) Recently I bought a new bike. The assembly of it was like us bonding, making friends. However, it sat in my dining room, miserable. For a good few weeks we would stare at each other! This torture was endured because of the adverse weather, which from past experience does not lend kindly to any sort of pedaling activities!

So... The snow finally clears! The sun pops out briefly, and I even get a day of work! What a fine (chilled) day to head out on my shiny new cycle! After taking an age to work out the Campagnolo gearing system (confusing for a road-bike first timer!) I was away! All was good, except on such a bike you really notice how shit British road surfaces are...

Anyway, a good couple of miles in to my ride around the Queens estate and its immediate villages, I felt some great discomfort! I just felt like vomiting up my lungs! This is not because I am unhealthy. I lead a pretty nutritious and balanced lifestyle. I eat my veg! I quickly deduced that it was the hunched riding position that was causing this pain! Oww... I need to do a shit load of sit ups to make this feel normal! Painful indeed, but its all worth it when your racing downs hills at a good 30mph. Dangerously exciting!

Friday 22 January 2010

Weinberg From Above...


I totally forgot how bloody brilliant this was! I don't know where Weinberg turns up from, but I remember seeing this, for the first time, and darn well enjoying it! A lot!

It all made perfect sense soon after, as to my ignorance, it wasn't just an old random dude who had jumped out of the crowd or anything... Weinberg is an American drummer and television personality, most widely known as the longtime drummer for Bruce Springsteen, but also as the bandleader for Conan O'Brien on Late Night with Conan O'Brien. Arrr right! Death From Above 1979... Come back! Please!

Monday 18 January 2010

A list. A year.

Maybe I will try and stick to some of this stuff. The results, if stuck too, might be surprising?! I wrote this "manifesto" at the start of the year, and have only just posted it now! (so perhaps my productivity in 2010 might remain falteringly low, and inconsistent at best!) One objective that is not present was to find more music, which funnily seems to be all that I am doing at the moment! See Maribel - Flesh & Blood...

Friday 15 January 2010

Oh. Liberia looks crazy!!

Who needs natural disasters to torment a country when you have this many mental cases bouncing around a lawless state in Africa...

The Republic of Liberia, is a country on the west coast of Africa, bordered by Sierra Leone, Guinea, Côte d'Ivoire, and the Atlantic Ocean. The nation is home to 3,476,608 people and covers 111,369 square kilometres. Liberia's capital is Monrovia. Liberia has a hot equatorial climate with most rainfall arriving in summer with harsh harmattan winds in the dry season. Its populated Pepper Coast is composed of mostly mangrove forests while the sparsely populated inland is forested.

I was going to put Imperial greed at root-cause of the current volatilities, as well as the disrepair seen in Liberia at present. The Imperial past is so often at the centre of leadership problems in Africa. However, in this case the country was founded and colonized by freed American slaves with the help of a private organization called the American Colonization Society (1821-22). It was created on the premise American slaves would have greater freedom and equality there.

The plans seemed nice, as all the colonists formed an elite group in Liberian society, and, in 1847, they founded the Republic of Liberia, establishing a government modeled on that of the United States, naming Monrovia, their capital city, after James Monroe, the fifth president of the United States and a prominent supporter of the colonization.

But, a military-led coup in 1980 overthrew then-president William R. Tolbert, which marked the beginning of a period of instability that eventually led to a civil war that left hundreds of thousands of people dead and devastated the country's economy. Today, Liberia is recovering from the lingering effects of the civil war and related economic dislocation.

VICE founder Shane Smith and Editor Andy Capper, visited Liberia’s capital, Monrovia, to meet three men who participated in the 14 years of civil war. One of the men giving us a guided tour is Joshua Blahyi, aka General Butt Naked, an ex-war lord famed for forcing his soldiers to fight wearing nothing but shoes. Blahyi admits to killing more than 20,000 people and drinking the blood of children, but now spends his time preaching about his quest for forgiveness...

Not a place for the faint of heart...

This is apparently the Grimsby branch of B&Q. I don't really have any need to go into places of such industrious scale that often. Not being a home owner means that I do not need a new bath, or any plaster board for that matter. However, my brother (in the construction trade) does. He has recently acquired a white van from his company, bringing home all the connotations with it, and he needed some more stuff to fill it!

I was bored so went with him. Everything is on such a vast scale, from the car parks to the size if the trolleys. We headed for the tools section (covering a good 3 miles sq.) and christ there is a selection. All the knives, saws, screw drivers, and axes you could ever need. This bought me to think... If you were going to chuck a mental, or a hold up, B&Q and the like would be ideal!

After browsing this vast selection, and also walking past a million unconnected toilet units to find that their was actually no customer toilet (humorously ironic), we approached the self-service checkout, which I thought were only in supermarkets?! Anyway, we put through the crow bar, stanley knife, and WD40. I thought as much, the supervisor came over.

She asked, "Have you got any I.D?"
I thought as much. For the crow bar right?
"Nah, for the knife..."

James wasn't old enough to buy the knife. You have to be 21 apparently. Despite this, we still walked out of B&Q 2 minutes later with the knife anyway. She didn't care! What's more surprising is that going back to my thoughts on raiding B&Q etc. You can buy a crow bar no problems, all you need is the £10.99 to pay for the baton of metal. Whoa. I know were I am heading if I need a domestic incident solving...

Thursday 14 January 2010

Jay Reatard


Jay Reatard | MySpace Music Videos
I seem to be coming late to the party these days. I mean I have only just been getting into Mika Miko to find that they have recently disbanded. Now, Jay Reatard. Not only have I enjoyed his heavy garage punk, but also as a member of The Reatards and Lost Sounds he simply tore it up! It's sad that such a genuine man has fallen short, especially as his energy created such vibrant music!

This documentary, directed by Alex Hammond and Ian Markiewicz, offers a decent insight into Jimmy Lee Lindsey Jrs. life - showing plainly how he was an just an awesome guy! Plus, I love that he rips those French pricks to pieces!

R.I.P. Jay. Memphis' King is dead. May 1, 1980 – January 13, 2010

Tuesday 12 January 2010

They 'av taken liberties...

I suppose that this came about when I was playing a football game on a console. Talking to my opponent, the game became heated (in a friendly way) but the idea of football violence arose to me! I mean I am a devote Norwich City fan, but this is a club renowned for its 'family values'. This was apparent when I went to a match in October and my brother and I were shouted at by our own fellow Canaries to pipe down! This sparked me to shout 'Go sit in the away end!' Whoops! Anyway we went on to win 4-0 so all was good in the end.

What I am getting at though is football violence. Like I said, the most violence you will see at Norwich is an angered stare if Delia's half-time pie is not hot enough. But, this 'mean-streak' thinking was definitely more apparent in the 70s and 80s - showing from the video above! Cockneys having it out with planks of wood down Old Kent Rd! Sure. In light of all this, the other day I was watching TV and a 'Oi! I'm Danny Dyer' special was on about football gangs in Russia.

There Danny was prancing around Russia, being all hard, meeting football gangs and necking litres of vodka... Then came the Spartak Moscow Vs. Zenit St. Petersburg match that he was pumped to go and see. Hilarious. He started shitting himself before he had even got in the ground, and by half-time he had got his production team to get him out of the crowd. Flares were being fired, violent chanting. Stuff Mr. Dyer should be able to take in his stride... Coz he is aaard right?!

Turned out that a bunch of Zenit fans had spotted him in the crowd (Moscow end), and gestured a slitted throat. Well, there was always hope... Ha. But I suppose you can't begrudge the lad though for trotting off, especially when you take a look at this...

Saturday 9 January 2010

Is it just me...

Right. Well, I am not going to lie, but when my sister got my family and I tickets (for Chritsmas) to go to see "We Will Rock You", I was a bit of an ungrateful sod, and did not wholly appreciate this gift at the time. However, when it came round to 'family-trip-spend-some-time-together-day' (today in fact), it actually turned out to be a pretty good crack. The sibling train banter alone was hilarious?! Whilst the performance was pretty inspiring too!

Right, putting the fact that Queen are rock greats aside, and that the loss of Freddie is a tragedy... The musical (written by Ben Elton?!) is what I wanted to mention. I mean I haven't been to the theatre in a while, a couple of years ago or something, so I had lost a grasp on how these things go...

The lights dimmed, curtain up, we were soon into the first act(?!) - if that is what it is called? And, to my surprise, scantily glad 'Gaga Girls' it would appear. I was surprised mainly because I was totally unfamiliar with the whole WWRY story-thing?! Anyway, these (pretty erotic) dancers were interspersed by the token homosexual male dancers, obviously. As I watched these ladies there was that light bulb moment. I am sure it was the same one that I had (probably) when at Grease, aged 11, and all the other plays I have seen up until now. Women! Not wearing much! (Plus, everyone has a thing for bird who can sing!)

I had locked on 'the one'. You know, the one that you find most good-looking, the best body, nice face. From that point on, in your red comfy seat, in a room full of strangers, binoculars... you lock on! Always looking for the same girl in each scene. For me this time, it was a tasty brunette in the chorus. You monitor her every move, costume change, flash of flesh etc. What's more hilarious is that all the time you are further convincing yourself that they are sharing this same mental relationship with you... ?! Mental I know.

They are not! Never! By the end, it feels like you have had mental sex with them, studying their every twist and turn, curve, and imperfection. This is why at the end of the show, as they wave their farewell, you always feel a bit empty. Well I do anyway. The curtain comes down for the final time. They disappear. Whisked out of your life, as quickly as they had come into it! Bam, they have gone! So... despite thoroughly enjoying the show, I walked out of the stalls (good seats this time) feeling confused, and slightly cheated?!

Luckily it was a matinée showing, there is always the evening... Alas, I didn't make the evening show. Instead I spent the train journey home scanning the programme frantically (which I had bought on the way out), trying to judge which poorly taken, sepia mug-shot is the bird out the chorus. My crush, my love, my everything... Fuck.