Too early for a daydream
Too late for a nightmare
Wannabe skyscrapers, grey with the autumn
Cold
Reflect in puddles of glass
Then destroyed by pigeons that
Tiptoe between spent cigarettes
Resentment is a geyser
Trepidation a chasm every 2nd step ahead
Electronics fill the vacuum of space,
My mind drifts with too much time to fill
Each factor of my morning and life
And day and tomorrow and
Tomorrow is broken down further to its component
Parts
Too early for a daydream
Too late for a nightmare
These are just fears.
27 Sept 2010
23 Sept 2010
Great movie soundtracks, part - whatever
When I started the blog I posted up quite a few movie soundtracks which I intended to add to every now and then. Suffice to say I haven't added to the list because I'm forgetfull/lazy, and well - lets face it, there aren't that many good soundtracks out there.
Thought I'd add one from the film featuring this fictional band:
My least favourite Cameron Crowe movie, but great artists/records on the soundtrack.
Thought I'd add one from the film featuring this fictional band:
My least favourite Cameron Crowe movie, but great artists/records on the soundtrack.
Quote of the Day
It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than open one's mouth and remove all doubt. Samuel Johnson
Mapplethorpe
Robert Mapplethorpe (as you all well know) was an amazing artist who tended to focus on Homoerotic photography and sexual images, that - for all the controvery they caused - were undeniably great photographs. So it would follow that there is a new exhibition of his work in Eastbourne. Wait, what..?
Teacher, mother, secret lover.
That's a Homer Simpson quote about TV, if you needed telling.
Horizon 'The end of God?' was amazing - if for nothing else, the sight of Dawkins in a crash helmet and blinfold:
and the 1st part of Lost Land of the Tiger was just as good - though wish they weren't on at the same time. Yay for I-Player:
Horizon 'The end of God?' was amazing - if for nothing else, the sight of Dawkins in a crash helmet and blinfold:
and the 1st part of Lost Land of the Tiger was just as good - though wish they weren't on at the same time. Yay for I-Player:
21 Sept 2010
Nomenclature
World Famous Design Junkies have made this poster 'The Grand Taxonomy of Rap Names':
Click to big it up.
tax•on•o•my – noun
1. the science or technique of classification.
2. Biology. the science dealing with the description, identification, naming, and classification of organisms
(I had to look that shit up...)
Click to big it up.
tax•on•o•my – noun
1. the science or technique of classification.
2. Biology. the science dealing with the description, identification, naming, and classification of organisms
(I had to look that shit up...)
Quote of the Day
Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats.
H. L. Mencken
Intervention
My wife Lu’s blog for photographic artist Tim Simmons. He’s showing his installation series as a contender for the Artprize 2010 in Grand Rapids – you can CLICK HERE to vote.
Here’s the venue:
Here’s the venue:
Congrats Mr V
After going for a surf with friend and wedding guest Laird Hamilton, Eddie marries Jill Mcormick in Oahu, Hawaii.
Spin magazine article here.
17 Sept 2010
16 Sept 2010
Quote of the Day
I hang my head against the white
refrigerator and want to scream like
the last weeping of life forever but
I am bigger than the mountains.
Bukowski.
Blood into Wine
THIS is being released on DVD soon. Looks amazing - especially if you're a Tool fan.
Erwin Wurm
While looking through a photography book at home recently, I was reminded of the work of this guy. He's an Austrian artist who produces a variety of work including photographs and what have been termed 'one minute sculptures'. The latter inspired this old Chilli Peppers vid:
15 Sept 2010
Human rights.
I heard a screech like monkeys warning of a snake close by, and stood on tip toe to peak over the heads in front of me - there were at least 50 people between me and the chimps, all of us sandwiched on the narrow platform between 2 sets of train tracks. A young man – younger than me at least – was inches from the face of a small middle aged gay man who was in turn, backed against a wall; ‘GIMME THE PHONE. GIMME THE FUCKIN PHONE...’
The smaller one just stood there, looking away and muttering something I couldn’t make out over the chattering masses. The chimps screamed again ‘WHAY YOU TAYKE ‘IS PICTURE FOR!?’ I moved in closer as some of the crowd moved reluctantly to board their train. Still looking into the middle distance the man replied matter-of-factly ‘I took his photo because I find him attractive.’ At this point you would be forgiven for thinking his response was something along the lines of ‘I took his photo because I want to cut him into small pieces and fry his lower intestine in butter for my dinner.’ Such was the abject horror in which it was received.
Instantly and as usual, I disassociated myself from any empathetic feeling toward this fracas and – analysing the subjects involved, began to notice the differences in appearance between them; The gay man was small, older, and though slim looked sort of like a little potato. The younger man was obviously a labourer of some kind, scaffolder, roofer, chippy, and after a long day hauling crap had removed his shirt to reveal a tanned, rather stocky and worked-out torso – covered in sweat.
‘UURRR, WHAAAA!?’ The incredulous screeching continued from what I now saw to be 3 young blond girls on their way home from whichever branch of Burger King they worked in (there was no indication of fast food chain employment but from their actions and lack of language skills I could only assume that ‘meat warmer’ was their one collective talent).
This went on.
And on.
Then after several minutes of screaming and nobody intervening on anyone else’s behalf, the young man stopped simply demanding that the pictures of his glistening torso be deleted – and stated that in fact, the whole situation was ‘...against my human rights.’ This made me snap back into the moment and think, does he have a point? Is he afforded the fundamental right to demand his image not be held by a stranger for his own selfish sexual gratification?
It took me a sum total of half a minute to arrive at the certainty that everyone involved – and even those who weren’t, were morons and not worth another nanosecond of contemplation. The picture taker should have been more subtle had he wanted some new and stolen masturbatory material, the roofer should be more aware of the origins of his style choices (along side being sculpted he also had what could be considered a super-gay haircut) before unveiling his body to the world. And the crowd, almost baying at the minor spectacle like dogs about to fight over scraps of bone... they would go home and relay the funny story to their wives and husbands.
Human rights. That made me smile. Maybe it’s my human right that I should be able to buy myself lunch every day without freaking out about not having made another batch of brown pasta instead of spending what would amount to £20 a week on what we peasants regularly refer to as ‘fancy food’. And that I should be capable of standing in public without being subjected to the inherent retardation of most of the sub-human beings next to – in front of and behind me during my daily commute. But we can’t always have what we want now,
can we.
The smaller one just stood there, looking away and muttering something I couldn’t make out over the chattering masses. The chimps screamed again ‘WHAY YOU TAYKE ‘IS PICTURE FOR!?’ I moved in closer as some of the crowd moved reluctantly to board their train. Still looking into the middle distance the man replied matter-of-factly ‘I took his photo because I find him attractive.’ At this point you would be forgiven for thinking his response was something along the lines of ‘I took his photo because I want to cut him into small pieces and fry his lower intestine in butter for my dinner.’ Such was the abject horror in which it was received.
Instantly and as usual, I disassociated myself from any empathetic feeling toward this fracas and – analysing the subjects involved, began to notice the differences in appearance between them; The gay man was small, older, and though slim looked sort of like a little potato. The younger man was obviously a labourer of some kind, scaffolder, roofer, chippy, and after a long day hauling crap had removed his shirt to reveal a tanned, rather stocky and worked-out torso – covered in sweat.
‘UURRR, WHAAAA!?’ The incredulous screeching continued from what I now saw to be 3 young blond girls on their way home from whichever branch of Burger King they worked in (there was no indication of fast food chain employment but from their actions and lack of language skills I could only assume that ‘meat warmer’ was their one collective talent).
This went on.
And on.
Then after several minutes of screaming and nobody intervening on anyone else’s behalf, the young man stopped simply demanding that the pictures of his glistening torso be deleted – and stated that in fact, the whole situation was ‘...against my human rights.’ This made me snap back into the moment and think, does he have a point? Is he afforded the fundamental right to demand his image not be held by a stranger for his own selfish sexual gratification?
It took me a sum total of half a minute to arrive at the certainty that everyone involved – and even those who weren’t, were morons and not worth another nanosecond of contemplation. The picture taker should have been more subtle had he wanted some new and stolen masturbatory material, the roofer should be more aware of the origins of his style choices (along side being sculpted he also had what could be considered a super-gay haircut) before unveiling his body to the world. And the crowd, almost baying at the minor spectacle like dogs about to fight over scraps of bone... they would go home and relay the funny story to their wives and husbands.
Human rights. That made me smile. Maybe it’s my human right that I should be able to buy myself lunch every day without freaking out about not having made another batch of brown pasta instead of spending what would amount to £20 a week on what we peasants regularly refer to as ‘fancy food’. And that I should be capable of standing in public without being subjected to the inherent retardation of most of the sub-human beings next to – in front of and behind me during my daily commute. But we can’t always have what we want now,
can we.
Rilke redux
Rilke.
I grew up in this town,
My poetry was born between the train track and the roadside,
It took its voice from the rain,
And like the concrete, it steeped itself in the city.
I grew up in this town,
My poetry was born between the train track and the roadside,
It took its voice from the rain,
And like the concrete, it steeped itself in the city.
14 Sept 2010
10 Sept 2010
Watch the skies
From the Guardian, a selection of entries from the astronomy photographer of the year competition, 2010, held at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich:
9 Sept 2010
Quote of the Day
'...You better beat it - I hear they're going to tear you down and put up an office building where you're standing. You can leave in a taxi. If you can't get a taxi, you can leave in a huff. If that's too soon, you can leave in a minute and a huff.'
Rufus T Firefly.
Rufus T Firefly.
Ink Sweat & Tears
Ink Sweat & Tears have posted up some Haiku's of mine. These were written a while back and relate to the part of South East London that I live in.
D
D
7 Sept 2010
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