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Showing posts from 2012

Sticking Plaster Childhood

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What is it that makes the juxtaposition of saccharine children's characters with the realm of daily struggle so full of potential to disturb? This was the question I asked myself as I sat waiting in the blood test waiting room when my eye fell upon this simple piece of subversive intervention. Far more resonant than a moustache on la Giaconda but sitting quietly neglected round corner after corner in a largely unused Victorian hospital. The reason I swiftly concluded was that the image derives from the commodification of childhood. I was thinking specifically of Disney . This is not to say that Disney cartoons are completely without merit for they have large teams of creative people confused enough to let themselves believe that it is somehow not the violation of culture they are involved with, who are, by the laws of probability bound to give some of their creative soul to the endeavor. But all the plots and images are ultimately shaped by the drive to commod

Candy Floss by Mikey Georgeson on Corporate Records

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Candy Floss by Mikey Georgeson on Corporate Records Mr. Solo AKA Mikey Georgeson with the whole beautiful wide screen Civilised Scene: On Drums Ben The Surgeon Handysides, on Bass Iain Duke 666 McCallum, on lead Guitar Simon Rare Breed Breed, on French Horn Nathan Mr Wolf Thomas, on Saxaphone Arec The Genius Koundarjian, on Guitar Simon Love Stone. These two songs were recorded in an eruption of psychic energy at Onecat Studios with Jon Clayton at the dials. Candy Floss radio edit was mixed by Luke Smith of Ulysses fame and the full version was crafted by the enigmatic Iain Duke McCallum. Daren Callow mixed the Civilised Scene's Revisitation of the Mr. Solo classic Industry. The twelve inch mix is by The Lavish Beast of Chiswick. Spread The Word

Kimey Peckpo Hatches Out

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Kimey Pekpo was inside his egg. Lately he had begun to feel very warm and happy indeed. “Momo has been hatching me very nicely,” he thought. “ I am all cosy-cosy but it is time for me to hatch out and show Momo just what I am.”  So Kimey Pekpo began to bash at the shell until he had made a little gap like an escape hatch at the top of the egg. He stuck his head out and looked around at the outside with a smile on his face. The landscape was very strange, being mainly pink with very few landmarks to speak of. “Its like a blancmange desert,” chuckled Kimey Pekpo to himself (he liked chuckling to himself). Still he couldn’t wait to explore and climbed out of the hatch he had bashed for himself and called out “Momo!” feeling certain she would come and lead him on his exploration of the world outside. “Momo!” he called again but no response came. He noticed he was still very warm and guessed that Momo was asleep and had forgotten to turn down her hatching heat. He looked up at her glo

Joe Ahearne, Doctor Who and the Secret of Crickley Bottom

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                                                             The Abandoned Mr. Blobby Theme Park Last night we started to watch The Mystery of Crinkly Bottom on catch up television. Obviously I was shocked and saddened that Mr Blobby’s ghost did not haunt the cavernous mysteriously (it’s a mystery drama) dank hall that the plot swiftly nay judderingly relocated to. Not even a tidy beard was in sight but the husband character (a rather bohemian engineer who didn’t do a lot of engineering) had a nice coating of designer stubble (the eighties is back). Once this Blobby free game changer had been absorbed (is there nothing I can’t point CBT at and come away a better human being? Well!!?) A veneer of credibility seemed to have been removed and I found myself thinking that The Mystery of Crinkly Hall or MOCH as they no doubt called it in the development meetings looked what I can only describe as, now this is tough, shoddy. Shoddy like the panelled walls might wobble

Echo-gnomics story

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I am a stupid boy. I have been a stupid boy all my life in full knowledge of being a stupid boy. I think stupid things all the time. I am not so stupid that I mistake my stupidity for some kind of enlightenment but occasionally I have an insight to a stupid thing outside of myself. Take today for instance when I forgot to buy my daily reduced price newspaper. The monorail had just pulled into the station and I was in two minds as to whether I should run back to the campus tabacconist or to forgo the endorphin lift of the lunchtime crossword and jump straight on board. I then realised that If I chose to pay the full price I could catch the monorail and buy the paper at the other end. This is the convenience of capitalism I realised. I had the money and so I resolved to use it to avoid over exerting myself. A vision of an echo-nomy based around stupid boys forgetting to buy papers quickly formed in my head. Soon there would be a whole vast slew of revenue sources based arou

TV Experiment Over

The great T.V. experiment of the late twentieth century is over. That little white dot on your screen Has finally popped Nothing Will fix it

Last Night's television

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Last night my wife left me. She went out and I was thus alone to watch the television. This morning she asked how my evening was “did you watch bottom face”? This I understood was DCI Banks the man who regularly pulls a face like a face that knows that it looks like a bottom. Yes I did after dabbling with a movie on the x-box Love Film ap I plumped for the soothing immersive experience of terrestrial television. I feel connected to my fellow citizens when I watch one of the first five channels. Even on hd. ITV eh? I can never fully shed the feeling that they make the TV programs that are the equivalent of Top of The Pops covers albums from the seventies. Last night the new lady detective played an admirable cover version of the lead actress in The Bridge. We, the viewer, think she is perhaps autistic and unable to bond with colleagues and yet is still remarkabley efficient at her job. In the Bridge this picture is painted slowly and with real depth but in the DCI Banks co