With a lack of anything new to say, and forgetting everything I had thought of to write on here over the last few days (I really do need to start writing these down as I think of them), I'm putting up my latest piece of schoolwork. We had to take a nursery rhyme or children's story and write an alternate view of it. A more adult version. Darker maybe. Anyway, here's what I came up with. See what you think.
Nicolas by Paul Askew
i
I am Old Man Nicolas,
this is my life.
A year of near solitude,
just for one night.
A year of near back-breaking
labour and trial,
to give out some joy
to every child.
ii
The night that my wife died
I cherished her hand,
and the longest of winters
fell over Lapland.
I distanced myself from
the workers, and here
I now spend all my time in
the company of Deer.
A year of near lonliness
drives a man wild
and it’s hard just to live off
the words of a child.
iii
So now the sleigh’s loaded
It’s off and away,
time to give everyone
their Christmas Day.
Old bones in the cold
start to put up a fight.
How many more times
shall I see this night?
The sacks, they get heavier
every year,
my eyes barely open,
so tired, so weary.
I just about make it
and finish my rounds,
before I give in and
my eyes settle down.
iv
I feel myself slump
to the left and then fall,
then feel myself weightless
as nothing at all.
I feel my head suddenly
clear of all clouds,
I feel my limbs dangling
above me somehow.
I feel myself calm,
so pastoral, so mild,
I feel my goodbyes
said to every child.
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
Thursday, 20 November 2008
The Secret.
This is a piece I wrote for my course. Feedback/opinions welcome.
Robin stood there, hands behind his back as always, waiting for Andrew. Andrew had told him to have the car ready for nine, but Robin was not at all surprised to be still standing there at half past. He checked his watch again. Nine thirty-seven. He heard the door and quickly put his arm behind his back. “Good morning, Mr Other!”
“Morning Robin! Sorry to keep you waiting there chap, you know how it is sometimes. It’s like a bloody chimp’s tea party in there. Now, Leeds today, isn’t it?”
“Yes Mr Other, sir.”
“Good Christ Robin, you’ve been my driver for five years now, can’t you dispense with the formalities?”
“Sorry sir.” Robin opened the back door of the car.
“Sir. Sir. I’m not your bloody schoolmaster Robin. Oh, I can see this will take some work.”
Andrew got in. Robin closed the door and then got into the driving seat.
“What is it today sir?” Ignition.
“Oh, some charity lunch thing. Orphans I think. Something to do with kids anyway. I’m only going because old Bollocks is going.” End of the driveway.
“Bollocks, sir?” Onto the road.
“Rupert Baxter. You know? Made a fortune with those microwave meals. Bloody good bloke, old Bollocks. Not like most of the nouveau.”
“No sir?”
“Sir. Sir. Sir. I do wish you would stop calling me that. Makes me feel like a total arse. If I had one wish, it would be that you would call me Andrew for once.”
“Sorry sir.”
Andrew growled. “Force of habit I suppose.”
Andrew thought to himself for a moment, then broke the pause; “You know Robin, I just realised that I don’t know anything about you. I mean, I know you’re not married and you have the world’s best kept moustache, but I don’t know anything else. Maybe that’s why you don’t call me Andrew.”
“Sir?”
“Because we’re not friends, man. This is a one sided thing here. Well, it’s time to change that. We’ve got a couple of hours drive ahead of us, so let’s get started.”
“Sir?”
“Tell me something about yourself man!”
“What would you like to know sir?”
“Oh I don’t know, anything! Use your imagination.”
Robin said nothing.
“Why aren’t you married?”
“I was once sir.”
“Really? What happened?”
“I’d rather not say sir.”
“Fair enough. Delicate business. Bit much to start on. Erm..... well what about school? Where did you go to school?”
“I went to school in Oxford sir.”
“Oxford, eh? I know Oxford well. Bollocks is an Oxford man, you know. Sends his kids to the Magdalen Boys, know it?”
“Magdalen Boys is where I went sir.”
“Really? Well there’s a coincidence. Enjoy it did you?”
“Very much sir.”
Andrew suddenly remembered Robin’s age.
“You’d have been there during that scandal, wouldn’t you?”
“If you mean the Mrs Lindstrom incident, then yes I was sir.”
“The teacher who got pregnant by a pupil.”
“Yes sir.”
“That wasn’t you was it Robin? Eh? Eh?”
“No sir. It wasn’t.”
“I bet you knew the scallywag who did it though, eh? Ah ha ha ha ha! I bet you did!”
“Yes actually, he was a good friend of mine at the time. Simon Greenidge. Truth be told sir, all of us were rather jealous of Simon.”
“Bit of a fox was she, this Mrs Lindstrom?”
“She certainly was sir. Body to die for.”
“HA HA HA! That’s more LIKE it Robin! You’re loosening up a bit! Now if you fancied her at that age.....”
“They were like heaven in a shirt sir.”
“HA! A buttoned up heaven! Brilliant! Ah, to open up the pearly gates, eh? Bet she let you know it too. Wear tight shirts did she?”
“Yes she did sir, white shirts. Usually with a black or red bra underneath.”
“One way to get you buggers to pay attention, eh?”
“Oh yes it was sir. We were always very attentive for Mrs Lindstrom, sir.”
“HA HA HA!! I bet! Excellent! Excellent! Oh, why has it taken so long for us to talk like this? This is gold. Pure gold, Robin. Right, we’re on a roll. Now, did you go to university?”
“I actually got into Oxford, so I stayed in that same city sir.”
“Really?! Bloody hell, what are you doing driving me around then?!”
“Well I...”
“What did you study?”
“Classics.”
“Good Lord, what happened? How are you here now?”
“Well...”
“Third?”
“I actually never completed my degree sir.”
“Whyever not Robin?”
“Oh you know. Reasons.”
“Reasons? What reasons?”
“Just.....reasons.”
“Too hard was it? Weren’t up to the work?”
“No sir, it wasn’t that.”
“Money, was it?”
“No, I had a trust fund. Look sir, I’d really rather drop this.”
“Get kicked out did you?”
“Please sir.”
“Drugs, was it?”
“Look, I..”
“Beat up a lecturer or something?”
“Sir, I’d really rather not..”
“Played a prank that went too far?”
“Sir, please..”
“Vandalise the place did you?”
“Sir please, I..”
“Oh come on man, what was it?”
“Well I would really rather not..”
“Little scandal of your own, was there?”
“ANDREW, PLEASE?! JUST DROP IT, OKAY?! JUST DROP IT!!”
There was a long pause.
“Well, I don’t know if I should be furious or celebrating?! Blimey! For the first time you call me Andrew, but blow me down if you didn’t just speak to me in the most appalling...”
“I’m sorry sir. Andrew. I’m sorry Andrew.”
Another pause.
“Well, I suppose I was pushing it a bit, eh? Ah, no harm done. Although I am awfully intrigued...”
“Please drop it Andrew.”
“HA! He calls me Andrew now. Brilliant. Oh, Bollocks will be tickled when I tell him.
Robin stifled a laugh.
“What’s wrong with you man?”
“Oh, nothing sir.”
Robin stood there, hands behind his back as always, waiting for Andrew. Andrew had told him to have the car ready for nine, but Robin was not at all surprised to be still standing there at half past. He checked his watch again. Nine thirty-seven. He heard the door and quickly put his arm behind his back. “Good morning, Mr Other!”
“Morning Robin! Sorry to keep you waiting there chap, you know how it is sometimes. It’s like a bloody chimp’s tea party in there. Now, Leeds today, isn’t it?”
“Yes Mr Other, sir.”
“Good Christ Robin, you’ve been my driver for five years now, can’t you dispense with the formalities?”
“Sorry sir.” Robin opened the back door of the car.
“Sir. Sir. I’m not your bloody schoolmaster Robin. Oh, I can see this will take some work.”
Andrew got in. Robin closed the door and then got into the driving seat.
“What is it today sir?” Ignition.
“Oh, some charity lunch thing. Orphans I think. Something to do with kids anyway. I’m only going because old Bollocks is going.” End of the driveway.
“Bollocks, sir?” Onto the road.
“Rupert Baxter. You know? Made a fortune with those microwave meals. Bloody good bloke, old Bollocks. Not like most of the nouveau.”
“No sir?”
“Sir. Sir. Sir. I do wish you would stop calling me that. Makes me feel like a total arse. If I had one wish, it would be that you would call me Andrew for once.”
“Sorry sir.”
Andrew growled. “Force of habit I suppose.”
Andrew thought to himself for a moment, then broke the pause; “You know Robin, I just realised that I don’t know anything about you. I mean, I know you’re not married and you have the world’s best kept moustache, but I don’t know anything else. Maybe that’s why you don’t call me Andrew.”
“Sir?”
“Because we’re not friends, man. This is a one sided thing here. Well, it’s time to change that. We’ve got a couple of hours drive ahead of us, so let’s get started.”
“Sir?”
“Tell me something about yourself man!”
“What would you like to know sir?”
“Oh I don’t know, anything! Use your imagination.”
Robin said nothing.
“Why aren’t you married?”
“I was once sir.”
“Really? What happened?”
“I’d rather not say sir.”
“Fair enough. Delicate business. Bit much to start on. Erm..... well what about school? Where did you go to school?”
“I went to school in Oxford sir.”
“Oxford, eh? I know Oxford well. Bollocks is an Oxford man, you know. Sends his kids to the Magdalen Boys, know it?”
“Magdalen Boys is where I went sir.”
“Really? Well there’s a coincidence. Enjoy it did you?”
“Very much sir.”
Andrew suddenly remembered Robin’s age.
“You’d have been there during that scandal, wouldn’t you?”
“If you mean the Mrs Lindstrom incident, then yes I was sir.”
“The teacher who got pregnant by a pupil.”
“Yes sir.”
“That wasn’t you was it Robin? Eh? Eh?”
“No sir. It wasn’t.”
“I bet you knew the scallywag who did it though, eh? Ah ha ha ha ha! I bet you did!”
“Yes actually, he was a good friend of mine at the time. Simon Greenidge. Truth be told sir, all of us were rather jealous of Simon.”
“Bit of a fox was she, this Mrs Lindstrom?”
“She certainly was sir. Body to die for.”
“HA HA HA! That’s more LIKE it Robin! You’re loosening up a bit! Now if you fancied her at that age.....”
“They were like heaven in a shirt sir.”
“HA! A buttoned up heaven! Brilliant! Ah, to open up the pearly gates, eh? Bet she let you know it too. Wear tight shirts did she?”
“Yes she did sir, white shirts. Usually with a black or red bra underneath.”
“One way to get you buggers to pay attention, eh?”
“Oh yes it was sir. We were always very attentive for Mrs Lindstrom, sir.”
“HA HA HA!! I bet! Excellent! Excellent! Oh, why has it taken so long for us to talk like this? This is gold. Pure gold, Robin. Right, we’re on a roll. Now, did you go to university?”
“I actually got into Oxford, so I stayed in that same city sir.”
“Really?! Bloody hell, what are you doing driving me around then?!”
“Well I...”
“What did you study?”
“Classics.”
“Good Lord, what happened? How are you here now?”
“Well...”
“Third?”
“I actually never completed my degree sir.”
“Whyever not Robin?”
“Oh you know. Reasons.”
“Reasons? What reasons?”
“Just.....reasons.”
“Too hard was it? Weren’t up to the work?”
“No sir, it wasn’t that.”
“Money, was it?”
“No, I had a trust fund. Look sir, I’d really rather drop this.”
“Get kicked out did you?”
“Please sir.”
“Drugs, was it?”
“Look, I..”
“Beat up a lecturer or something?”
“Sir, I’d really rather not..”
“Played a prank that went too far?”
“Sir, please..”
“Vandalise the place did you?”
“Sir please, I..”
“Oh come on man, what was it?”
“Well I would really rather not..”
“Little scandal of your own, was there?”
“ANDREW, PLEASE?! JUST DROP IT, OKAY?! JUST DROP IT!!”
There was a long pause.
“Well, I don’t know if I should be furious or celebrating?! Blimey! For the first time you call me Andrew, but blow me down if you didn’t just speak to me in the most appalling...”
“I’m sorry sir. Andrew. I’m sorry Andrew.”
Another pause.
“Well, I suppose I was pushing it a bit, eh? Ah, no harm done. Although I am awfully intrigued...”
“Please drop it Andrew.”
“HA! He calls me Andrew now. Brilliant. Oh, Bollocks will be tickled when I tell him.
Robin stifled a laugh.
“What’s wrong with you man?”
“Oh, nothing sir.”
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
This Has Actually Made Me The Happiest Man Ever.
http://www.oxfordmail.co.uk/search/3846660.Piper_told_to_pack_his_bags/
I now believe in God. No more will I ever have to hear that piercing din from that talentless little gobshite. My prayers have been answered. This plague on Oxford ears has been cured.
Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou.
I now believe in God. No more will I ever have to hear that piercing din from that talentless little gobshite. My prayers have been answered. This plague on Oxford ears has been cured.
Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou.
Monday, 17 November 2008
Hmmm...
Can't work out whether someone was saying this as a joke or if I was actually being threatened.
Guy: "Have you got a light mate?"
Me: "No, sorry, I don't smoke."
Guy: "You should do. You'd smoke if I set fire to you."
It was on Rectory Road and he had a mental look on his face. Like he was either on drugs or about to bite the heads of some squirrels that he probably has in a bag in his cupboard or basement. You know the look. There was a character in Father Ted, I can't remember his name now, the one who drove a sewage truck in one episode, robbed a post office in another, and wanted to kill a bunch of rabbits by putting their heads in a vice and chopping off their bodies with a samurai sword in another. This guy looked like him.
On a lighter note, I saw the Razorlight video again the other day, the one where they're all lighting matches. God, that is a fucking funny video. If you haven't seen it yet, please do. It is so sincere and done without even a hint of irony. It is the most laughable music video I can think of right now apart from the video to "Smack My Bitch Up" by The Prodigy, which wasn't as ego-stroking and wasn't anywhere near as unintentionally funny as the Razorlight vid, but is right up there because it is just so so so utterly pathetic, making it just as ridiculous and laughable, if not more so. And there aren't a lot of things that you can put Razorlight above The Prodigy on.
I've lost my point now. Anyway, watch the Razorlight video. You'll laugh your arse off.
Oh, and watch a German film called "The Wave" too. It's really good. A really interesting look into the system of Autocracy becomes a fascinating insight into the world of gang culture, drawing alarming similarities between the two. It's an ace piece of film-making, and I wanted to make sure I wrote that before "Waltz With Bashir" comes out and I get too excited to write about any other film. I cannot fucking wait for "Waltz With Bashir".
Okay, bye now.
Guy: "Have you got a light mate?"
Me: "No, sorry, I don't smoke."
Guy: "You should do. You'd smoke if I set fire to you."
It was on Rectory Road and he had a mental look on his face. Like he was either on drugs or about to bite the heads of some squirrels that he probably has in a bag in his cupboard or basement. You know the look. There was a character in Father Ted, I can't remember his name now, the one who drove a sewage truck in one episode, robbed a post office in another, and wanted to kill a bunch of rabbits by putting their heads in a vice and chopping off their bodies with a samurai sword in another. This guy looked like him.
On a lighter note, I saw the Razorlight video again the other day, the one where they're all lighting matches. God, that is a fucking funny video. If you haven't seen it yet, please do. It is so sincere and done without even a hint of irony. It is the most laughable music video I can think of right now apart from the video to "Smack My Bitch Up" by The Prodigy, which wasn't as ego-stroking and wasn't anywhere near as unintentionally funny as the Razorlight vid, but is right up there because it is just so so so utterly pathetic, making it just as ridiculous and laughable, if not more so. And there aren't a lot of things that you can put Razorlight above The Prodigy on.
I've lost my point now. Anyway, watch the Razorlight video. You'll laugh your arse off.
Oh, and watch a German film called "The Wave" too. It's really good. A really interesting look into the system of Autocracy becomes a fascinating insight into the world of gang culture, drawing alarming similarities between the two. It's an ace piece of film-making, and I wanted to make sure I wrote that before "Waltz With Bashir" comes out and I get too excited to write about any other film. I cannot fucking wait for "Waltz With Bashir".
Okay, bye now.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Watch This.
My mate Tat put a link to this clip on Facebook.
If that doesn't work, or if YouTube is being as slow on your computer when you try to look at it as mine is now, then go here; http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/11/10/keith-olbermanns-prop-8-s_n_142862.html which is where Tat found it. There's also a transcript of his monologue there too.
If that doesn't work, or if YouTube is being as slow on your computer when you try to look at it as mine is now, then go here; http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/11/10/keith-olbermanns-prop-8-s_n_142862.html which is where Tat found it. There's also a transcript of his monologue there too.
Thursday, 30 October 2008
The World Is Fucked.
At the moment in the news, there are some pretty big and important things happening right now:
There's absolute chaos going on in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Tens of thousands of people are fleeing their homes, as infighting has escalated due to a rebel uprising. It's being called a "humanitarian crisis".
There's been an earthquake in Pakistan, killing 215 people and leaving tens of thousands homeless (up to 50,000 is the latest estimate). They are still trying to sift through wreckage to find people who are trapped.
Bombs have gone off in Assam, in India, killing 64 people. Apparently there were 18 separate explosions. Many more were injured (300 est.). There's been another suicide bomber in Afghanistan, they killed 4 people other than themselves and injured 23 others. Also a car bomb went off in Spain.
The whole world is suffering from this 'credit crunch', this recession. Economies are in danger, banks are going under and having to be bailed out, values of homes are falling, stocks plunging, etc etc etc.
There are "freak" weather conditions causing floods in Devon. There is a trial going on to determine what should happen about the shooting of an innocent man (Jean Charles de Menezes) on a tube train.
Oh, and in America there a little thing called the Presidential Election going on. It's a landmark election which will either see the first Black US president, or the first Female US vice-president. Either way, that's a pretty big step for the American Government. Whoever wins the election will be in charge of the country at a very difficult time. And as we all know, the decision of the American public impacts upon the whole world (and if McCain somehow manages to get himself voted into The White House, the whole rest of the world will either laugh of sigh with total disbelief, as we all say a collective "Oh for fuck's sake, not again").
I could go on, but most of you will be bored by now.
I would however be surprised if anyone in the United Kingdom knew about all of the things I've listed. Why? Because apparently, more important than this, is the fact that 2 people said some naughty things to someone on their radio show, a show which was on after the watershed. OH MY FUCKING GOD, HOW DARE THEY!! HOW CAN THIS TRAVESTY STAND?!
Seriously, this whole thing is fucking ridiculous. This is a non-story. This is nothing.
Yes, Russell Brand & Jonathan Ross said some tasteless things to Andrew Sachs. Yes they should've apologised for it, and they did. But this virtual lynching of them for the last 4 or 5 days is utterly ludicrous. The Sun today gave 5 whole pages to it. It took up about half of this evenings news at 10. It's on the front page of far too many newspapers. Andrew Sachs' granddaughter has been sucked into the tabloid media machine and is spouting basically whatever they want her to say.
Russell Brand has been practically forced into resigning and Jonathan Ross has been suspended for the rest of the year, EVEN THOUGH Andrew Sachs himself said that he was not after revenge, would not be taking this matter any further after getting his apologies and says he appreciates that they know they did something stupid and probably do feel very bad for it. He also said they will probably learn from this mistake and become better for it.
Which begs the question, if Andrew Sachs is happy with just getting sincere apologies from the pair, why this fucking witchhunt?! The BBC has not been disgraced, no matter how many tabloid journalists say it has. I personally find it a bit rich that newspapers that objectify women, continuously hound celebrities and have done things like the famous Mirror episode where they faked those military photos, which Piers Morgan, the editor of the Mirror at the time, got fired for (and then somehow bafflingly became a TV personality, in spite of the fact that he is a total cunt), can pull out the family values card whenever the mood takes them. Hypocritical much?
Seriously, when a non-issue like this gets blown out of all proportion to such a ridiculous degree, you know the world is fucked. The whole thing is absolutely pathetic.
There's absolute chaos going on in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Tens of thousands of people are fleeing their homes, as infighting has escalated due to a rebel uprising. It's being called a "humanitarian crisis".
There's been an earthquake in Pakistan, killing 215 people and leaving tens of thousands homeless (up to 50,000 is the latest estimate). They are still trying to sift through wreckage to find people who are trapped.
Bombs have gone off in Assam, in India, killing 64 people. Apparently there were 18 separate explosions. Many more were injured (300 est.). There's been another suicide bomber in Afghanistan, they killed 4 people other than themselves and injured 23 others. Also a car bomb went off in Spain.
The whole world is suffering from this 'credit crunch', this recession. Economies are in danger, banks are going under and having to be bailed out, values of homes are falling, stocks plunging, etc etc etc.
There are "freak" weather conditions causing floods in Devon. There is a trial going on to determine what should happen about the shooting of an innocent man (Jean Charles de Menezes) on a tube train.
Oh, and in America there a little thing called the Presidential Election going on. It's a landmark election which will either see the first Black US president, or the first Female US vice-president. Either way, that's a pretty big step for the American Government. Whoever wins the election will be in charge of the country at a very difficult time. And as we all know, the decision of the American public impacts upon the whole world (and if McCain somehow manages to get himself voted into The White House, the whole rest of the world will either laugh of sigh with total disbelief, as we all say a collective "Oh for fuck's sake, not again").
I could go on, but most of you will be bored by now.
I would however be surprised if anyone in the United Kingdom knew about all of the things I've listed. Why? Because apparently, more important than this, is the fact that 2 people said some naughty things to someone on their radio show, a show which was on after the watershed. OH MY FUCKING GOD, HOW DARE THEY!! HOW CAN THIS TRAVESTY STAND?!
Seriously, this whole thing is fucking ridiculous. This is a non-story. This is nothing.
Yes, Russell Brand & Jonathan Ross said some tasteless things to Andrew Sachs. Yes they should've apologised for it, and they did. But this virtual lynching of them for the last 4 or 5 days is utterly ludicrous. The Sun today gave 5 whole pages to it. It took up about half of this evenings news at 10. It's on the front page of far too many newspapers. Andrew Sachs' granddaughter has been sucked into the tabloid media machine and is spouting basically whatever they want her to say.
Russell Brand has been practically forced into resigning and Jonathan Ross has been suspended for the rest of the year, EVEN THOUGH Andrew Sachs himself said that he was not after revenge, would not be taking this matter any further after getting his apologies and says he appreciates that they know they did something stupid and probably do feel very bad for it. He also said they will probably learn from this mistake and become better for it.
Which begs the question, if Andrew Sachs is happy with just getting sincere apologies from the pair, why this fucking witchhunt?! The BBC has not been disgraced, no matter how many tabloid journalists say it has. I personally find it a bit rich that newspapers that objectify women, continuously hound celebrities and have done things like the famous Mirror episode where they faked those military photos, which Piers Morgan, the editor of the Mirror at the time, got fired for (and then somehow bafflingly became a TV personality, in spite of the fact that he is a total cunt), can pull out the family values card whenever the mood takes them. Hypocritical much?
Seriously, when a non-issue like this gets blown out of all proportion to such a ridiculous degree, you know the world is fucked. The whole thing is absolutely pathetic.
Friday, 17 October 2008
Off To See Holy Fuck Tonight.
They're playing at the Zodiac. Holy Fuck are in Oxford!! I am very excited. That's not why I'm writing this tho.
See, while I'll be upstairs watching Holy Fuck, who's playing in the downstairs room? Why it's only Delirious?, everyones favourite devout christian rock band.
Is it only me that finds that hilarious? Someone must've done that as a joke. In the same building as a band of worship rockers playing to a religious crowd, a band called Holy Fuck. Imagine the backstage banter:
"Hi there. Are you guys playing tonight too?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"Cool. We're Delirious?"
"Oh yeah? Haven't heard of you. What kind of thing do you play?"
" You might not have, we have quite a specific following. You know, we've got a lot of fans, but because we play rock music with a primary message of faith, we really only appeal to a Christian fanbase. So a lot of people still haven't heard of us, even though we are quite big."
"Oh right, yeah, we probably wouldn't have heard of you guys then."
"That's cool, no worries." Slight pause. "What do you guys do anyway?"
" We're kind of an electronic rock band. We wanted to play electronic music, but we wanted to do it all live without loops and laptops and all that stuff. So yeah, we're kind of a rock band I guess, but you can dance to us too."
"Sounds pretty cool. I might have to check you guys out sometime. What's your band name?"
"Holy Fuck."
After a long pause. "Ooooooooooooooookaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy. Well listen, you guys have a good gig and maybe we'll catch you later, yeah. Okay, good luck. God bless you." Scurries off quickly and uncomfortably.
What genius came up with this idea? Putting these two bands on the same day, in the same building? If this were America or Mexico, I can imagine there would be abuse, threats and fighting between fans. I mean, in Mexico you get punk fans fighting each other for being crust of straight edge. (Don't ask me, what "Crust" punks means, I don't know. I think "Straight-edge might even mean something different. I don't know.) This would cause a veritable civil war!
In other Axl news, I have too much homework. I can't seem to find the time to do it all, however I did just finish a bitch of an essay, so am on a well earned break. I tried doing some text analysis, but it was all just a blur. It meant I also had to cancel a trip to visit my chums Blake & Staz, who probably hate me now. Right. I need food. Food (while watching deleted scenes from Summer Heights High I reckon), more homework, Holy Fuck. Then maybe a bit of booze. That's my evening right there.
See, while I'll be upstairs watching Holy Fuck, who's playing in the downstairs room? Why it's only Delirious?, everyones favourite devout christian rock band.
Is it only me that finds that hilarious? Someone must've done that as a joke. In the same building as a band of worship rockers playing to a religious crowd, a band called Holy Fuck. Imagine the backstage banter:
"Hi there. Are you guys playing tonight too?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"Cool. We're Delirious?"
"Oh yeah? Haven't heard of you. What kind of thing do you play?"
" You might not have, we have quite a specific following. You know, we've got a lot of fans, but because we play rock music with a primary message of faith, we really only appeal to a Christian fanbase. So a lot of people still haven't heard of us, even though we are quite big."
"Oh right, yeah, we probably wouldn't have heard of you guys then."
"That's cool, no worries." Slight pause. "What do you guys do anyway?"
" We're kind of an electronic rock band. We wanted to play electronic music, but we wanted to do it all live without loops and laptops and all that stuff. So yeah, we're kind of a rock band I guess, but you can dance to us too."
"Sounds pretty cool. I might have to check you guys out sometime. What's your band name?"
"Holy Fuck."
After a long pause. "Ooooooooooooooookaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy. Well listen, you guys have a good gig and maybe we'll catch you later, yeah. Okay, good luck. God bless you." Scurries off quickly and uncomfortably.
What genius came up with this idea? Putting these two bands on the same day, in the same building? If this were America or Mexico, I can imagine there would be abuse, threats and fighting between fans. I mean, in Mexico you get punk fans fighting each other for being crust of straight edge. (Don't ask me, what "Crust" punks means, I don't know. I think "Straight-edge might even mean something different. I don't know.) This would cause a veritable civil war!
In other Axl news, I have too much homework. I can't seem to find the time to do it all, however I did just finish a bitch of an essay, so am on a well earned break. I tried doing some text analysis, but it was all just a blur. It meant I also had to cancel a trip to visit my chums Blake & Staz, who probably hate me now. Right. I need food. Food (while watching deleted scenes from Summer Heights High I reckon), more homework, Holy Fuck. Then maybe a bit of booze. That's my evening right there.
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
Free Writing.
We did this thing at college today where in groups of 3, we had lists of words and made sentences using a couple of them. Then we took a sentence someone else came up with and used it as the opening for a piece of 'Free Writing', which is what it sounds like. You write whatever comes into your head. We did this for 20 minutes. The other 2 people in my group really liked what I wrote, so I decided to put it up on here. The first sentence was written by a guy called Patrick, the rest is mine. It doesn't have a title.
Peering into the mirror, he was shocked to see his elderly mother looking out, he was morphing into her.
Jesus Christ, when did this start happening? Was it when he followed her into the family business? But he got out of that years ago. Did that start a chain of events? He couldn't deny the similarities of their lives; both married in their early twenties, both divorced at 28, both re-married in their early thirties, he was born on his mother's birthday ("My most wonderful little present." she still would call him.), both had 2 children, both had suffered the loss of one of them, both had an obsession with hats, both had six toes on one foot, the list goes on. Looking at his mothers face in the mirror, watching her touch her face in the same ways and places that he touched his, he cried, as she did, at the fact that his life was not his own. It was hers. His rage grew. He was overcome with anger and lashed out at her, and watched as her face shattered and fell to the floor.
This woke Alison with a start. "Jesus Geoff, what the fuck?!"
Geoff looked at the pieces of the mirror and wept. Alison noticed his hand was bleeding. She led him into the bathroom to wash his hand. He stopped dead as he saw his mothers face again above the sink. "Geoff come on, don't just stand there, we've got to get that clean."
But Geoff just stood in the doorway, staring into his mothers eyes. Alison took his hand and tried to pull him into the room. "Come ON Geoff." He turned his eyes to her and saw his mother again. She was in the room now. He screamed, punched her in the face and ran. He ran down the stairs and out the front door. He ran into the road and into the path of a car.
Peering into the mirror, he was shocked to see his elderly mother looking out, he was morphing into her.
Jesus Christ, when did this start happening? Was it when he followed her into the family business? But he got out of that years ago. Did that start a chain of events? He couldn't deny the similarities of their lives; both married in their early twenties, both divorced at 28, both re-married in their early thirties, he was born on his mother's birthday ("My most wonderful little present." she still would call him.), both had 2 children, both had suffered the loss of one of them, both had an obsession with hats, both had six toes on one foot, the list goes on. Looking at his mothers face in the mirror, watching her touch her face in the same ways and places that he touched his, he cried, as she did, at the fact that his life was not his own. It was hers. His rage grew. He was overcome with anger and lashed out at her, and watched as her face shattered and fell to the floor.
This woke Alison with a start. "Jesus Geoff, what the fuck?!"
Geoff looked at the pieces of the mirror and wept. Alison noticed his hand was bleeding. She led him into the bathroom to wash his hand. He stopped dead as he saw his mothers face again above the sink. "Geoff come on, don't just stand there, we've got to get that clean."
But Geoff just stood in the doorway, staring into his mothers eyes. Alison took his hand and tried to pull him into the room. "Come ON Geoff." He turned his eyes to her and saw his mother again. She was in the room now. He screamed, punched her in the face and ran. He ran down the stairs and out the front door. He ran into the road and into the path of a car.
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