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February 2006
Tuesday, February 28th, 2006

Last night, I watched Wild At Heart, and tonight I watched The Straight Story. One celebrates youth, and love, and the power of the unknown, the belief in the intangible, the throwing of caution to the blouses of the gods. Two throbbing bloodsacks tearing down the highway with the top down and everything to look forward to.

It made me teary, and it made me believe in romantic love again, as the end credits rolled, and Sailor serenaded Lula on top of that beautiful old car. Sometimes I forget, and am cynical. Sometimes I am realistic. Sometimes I think I should buy a snakeskin jacket and fuck off to the dust and the bak-ed earth over West.

Sometimes I figure I’m doing just fine.

The Straight Story, in contrast, is about one old man’s journey to make his peace. It is about family. It is about kindness. It is about humanity, from cradle to grave. An old man traveling 300 miles on a lawnmower with a trailer full of wienies and a box of cigars. It made me miss my Granddads and the old lady who taught me a little piano when I was very little. It made me remember Dyffryn Nantlle, like I haven’t before. It made me want to phone my grumpy little brother and tell him I love him. It made me want to look at the stars, and listen to the night. But there is just the old orange glow, out here in Stokey, and the whir of machinery.

I like it, the glow, the machinery. But they are tricks, tricks we played on ourselves in this recent age, and they will be gone soon enough. Then it will just be bloodsacks and old men and the stars and the dust, like before, and one day even the bloodsacks will burst, and the old men will lie down.

— Tuesday, February 28th, 2006

Tuesday, February 28th, 2006

“They want me to burn like Guy Fawkes
they wanna hear dead on arrival
they wanna destroy my character like my childhood idol Michael”
Bashy – Never See Me Fall

How did I miss this?

Morrissey Quizzed by FBI

Contact Music | February 24 2006
Singer MORRISSEY was quizzed by the FBI and British intelligence after speaking out against the American and British governments.

The Brit is a famous critic of the US-led war in Iraq and has dubbed President GEORGE W BUSH a “terrorist” – but he was baffled to be hauled in by authorities.

Morrissey explains, “The FBI and the Special Branch have investigated me and I’ve been interviewed and taped and so forth.

“They were trying to determine if I was a threat to the government, and similarly in England. But it didn’t take them very long to realise that I’m not.

“I don’t belong to any political groups, I don’t really say anything unless I’m asked directly and I don’t even demonstrate in public. I always assume that so-called authoritarian figures just assume that pop/rock music is slightly insane and an untouchable platform for the working classes to stand up and say something noticeable.

“My view is that neither England or America are democratic societies. You can’t really speak your mind and if you do you’re investigated.”

— Tuesday, February 28th, 2006

Monday, February 27th, 2006

That cartoon there, by the ever wry Nicholas Gurewitch, raises an excellent point regarding the ever-flawed on-screen depiction of vampires, I think. The perma-brooding Buffy co-star Angel, for example, sees nothing in his mirror, but surely we should see half a pound of hair gel floating about, hmm? Quite.

Ah, glories of the interweb. Mere moments after enquiring of you what all that foreign regarding myself was about earlier, a reader, one Simon Lasett writes:

“Babelfish, he say

The one of the Welshman Akira The Don we could say that he is something as well as the one of Juan Palomo, that is to say, I I stew and I like, but it is that it is truth. Aside from doing hip hop fused with the first sort that is happened to you, the chaval becomes the animations flash for its videos and in case still it was not little work, also curra blog that visited it, until makes very poquito, 70,000 people. Dale the welcome to new bad boy cybernetic.

Couldn’t agree more :)”

Me neither. Brillopad. I reward you with a story, or something, my little brother posted on his website (I nicked “brillopad” off of him an all).

The Virginity Badger

I was seven when Alwyn first called me a ‘virgin’. Alwyn was really cool – he was always the one who introduced new insults to our school. I was six when he first called me a ‘bastard’, five when he first called me a ‘cock’ and four when he first called me a ‘cunt’.

Alwyn always learnt the words from his dad, Gwyn. Gwyn was really cool too – he must have been cool to know all those words. When I used to go and stay the night in their farmhouse I’d hear him shouting them from the living room pretty much all the time: Bastard, cock, cunt. I knew what all those things were though, so they didn’t bother me anymore. But when I was seven, ‘virgin’ was a new one.

Obviously, I spent ages saying I wasn’t a virgin, but I couldn’t prove it because I didn’t know what one was. Alwyn never taught you what a word meant – you had to work it out.

I asked my sister, Sian, because I was the only one with an older sister. Sian was fifteen and she said I was a virgin, because of something to do with a ‘condom’. But I was playing Sonic The Hedgehog then, so I was only half listening.

Anyway, I thought I was really clever the next day, when Alwyn called me a virgin and I said,

“Shut it, you condom.”

But then he said,

“You’re just jealous ‘cause the Virginity Badger hasn’t come to you yet.”

And I said,

“What?”

And he told me that if you didn’t want to be a virgin, you had to put a ‘condom’ under your pillow to protect you from the Virginity Badger – so that when he came you’d be okay. That’s what a ‘condom’ was – protection. My new word, and Alwyn knew what it meant before me. That was pretty gutting. Not only that, but I’d never even heard of the Virginity Badger before. Only boring stuff like the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny.

Anyway, while Sian was away one week I went through her stuff and after loads of horrible fluffy, slimy, glittery things that I didn’t understand, I found a box with ‘condoms’ written on, and took one and put it under my pillow.

I didn’t know what I’d do with it when they came. I didn’t know what they’d do with me when they came either, but I was pretty scared.

Alwyn suddenly moved away and he never came to say goodbye and the headmaster just said he’d gone and didn’t explain it. I was pretty gutted then because my sister would get annoyed if I asked her too many questions and you don’t ask my mum questions like that, not if you don’t want a slap.

Anyway, I had that condom under my pillow for years – I even carried it around with me in my wallet. Once a teacher confiscated it in class, but I got another one before the badger had a chance to get me. One year at Centre Parks there were badgers on the patio, snorting and grunting really loud every night. I didn’t get any sleep at all. I just held on to the condom, ready to rip open the packet in case they came in and tried to get me.

When I went to big school on the mainland, I met Alwyn again and pretty much the first thing I asked him was about the Virginity Badger and he said, “You stupid bastard, it’s just your dad dressed up in a suit – like Santa Claus.” So I felt pretty stupid after that.

— Monday, February 27th, 2006

Monday, February 27th, 2006

Anyone know what this means?

AKIRA THE DON El nuevo bad boy cibernético by Jorge Álvarez

Lo del galés Akira The Don podríamos decir que es algo así como lo de Juan Palomo, es decir, yo me lo guiso y yo me lo como, pero es que es verdad. Aparte de hacer hip hop fusionado con el primer género que se te ocurra, el chaval se hace las animaciones flash para sus vídeos y por si todavía no fuese poco trabajo, también se curra un blog que lo visitaban, hasta hace muy poquito, unas 70.000 personas. Dale la bienvenida al nuevo bad boy cibernético.

I get the nuevo bad boy bit. I like that. It’s from this article. I have a fucking huge folder of interviews and reviews and things that have appeared over the past few months, I have been going through them for the past twenty minutes and I feel a bit dirty. I am going to quit that and finish this song I’m writing about being my height.

— Monday, February 27th, 2006

Monday, February 27th, 2006

Roll out the barrel! A nice man just came round and installed my phone line. I HAVE INTERNET IN MY GAFF!

— Monday, February 27th, 2006

Monday, February 27th, 2006

Back in the day I used to write exhaustive accounts of my to-ings and fro-ings which might have seemed incredibly narcissistic, and it was, but if people didn’t do that sort of thing then we would have no idea about the human condition, so you can piss off, actually.

Haha.

Anyway. As I haven’t had an internet in my house for ages, I have been crap at that sort of thing for a while. It takes me fifteen minutes to walk to Netbuddy from my house, and its cold these days, AND there’s a tramp I have to avoid because I gave him twenty quid one time because his legs were bleeding puss, and he anted to check into a night clinic and not sleep outside KFC like he always does, but now every time I see him he screams out to me, “CHEEEEEEEEEIF!” and “BOSS!” in this awful bloodcurdling rasp, and hobbles after me as I wave my hands in a “I have no spare money” fashion, even though I have, like, a fiver or whatever, and prolly he could do with it more than me. It is quite depressing. When I have lots of money I have decided to buy him some new legs.

His scream reminds me of the lady in the cell above me that time they locked me up in Birmingham nick for three days. She was on her period, and spent two nights wailing “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOS! I’m BLAY-DING!” in a trill Brummy roar to replies of, “shoot oop slag,” from the “boss”. I wonder what she’s doing today. Maybe she has new internet too, and is downloading old Nixon speeches, like me.

Anyway, the reason I mentioned the whole writing about one’s doings thing, is because I just read one of Bravecaptain‘s, and it is all warm and emotive and reminds me I need to try harder, always.

— Monday, February 27th, 2006