Friday, December 31, 2004
Closed until next year.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:59 PM
Thursday, December 30, 2004
You know when you're listening to the radio and you hear a line from a song and it strikes you somehow? I thought it would be fun to trawl back through 2004 and record twenty lines that did it for me. Some of these made me laugh, some I like to sing along to. Some have a resonance with how I felt / feel. Some I just liked and don't know why. How many can you identify?
1. I can do it put your ass into it.
2. I can teach you but I have to charge.
3. Just as you started to make your big advance with the milkshake and that little doughnut in hand.
4. I can see everything here with my third eye like the blue in the sky
5. My heart was broken, I was not open to your suggestions, I had so many questions, That you just kissed away.
6. Why can't the boys be the toys, That the girls want the boys to be, And why can't the girls see the world, That the boys want the girls to see, yeah.
7. I messed my pants, When we flew over France.
8. Straight to the hotel, I'm cellabut so, boy,you gets no tell, Kiss,kiss and still you gets nowhere, Just two blue balls down in yo' underwear, I play unfair, I'm a hot gal.
9. I've been dreaming of a time when the English are sick to death of Labour, and Tories.
10. Sunrise, sunrise, Looks like morning in your eyes.
11. Winter fruits and summer wine, Sweet perfume and columbine.
12. Can't think of a better way, and that's all I got to say. I love you, is that ok?
13. I saw this thing on ITV the other week, Said that if she played with her hair, she's probably keen.
14. Satellite's gone way up to Mars, Soon it'll be filled with parkin' cars.
15. Won´t you just tell Cincinnati, I´m gonna need your love, Don´t you give me your love.
16. My performance is easy, I am the god of romance, And in my confusion I have the right to reign.
17. Free! don't think about being less than yourself.
18. I don't mind spending everyday, Out on your corner in the pouring rain, Look for the girl with the broken smile, Ask her if she wants to stay awhile.
19. slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot com slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot dash dot slash dot com dot com dot com.
20. Guns don't kill people, rappers do, From Bristol Zoo to B&Q.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 4:32 PM
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
A logistical operation, matched only by major military campaigns, underpins a futile consumer orgy of waste.
Gold fake Christmas trees.
Being asked, "Good Christmas?" by people who don't care what the answer is.
Eastenders annual despairfest and cliched cockerney community spirit.
Worthy televisual nonsense featuring pillars of the British Acting Community - Judy Dench, Patrick Stewart, Kenneth Branagh et al.
Cheap nasty 'seasonal merchandise' cynically materialising everywhere.
The inability of organisations and people to function correctly for two months either side of Christmas like it caught them by surprise.
Deferential royal propaganda.
The endless speculation about whether it will be a white Christmas - then the endless weather warnings and chaos when it snows.
The sharp contrast between my comfortable well padded holiday and the sadness and suffering all round.
Watching too much telly.
The intensity of it all.
Missing people I've loved - very much.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:55 PM
That people make time to spend time.
Coloured lights that bring a touch of magic to humble houses.
The no mans land in between Christmas and New Year when time stands still.
Home made mince pies and Christmas pudding.
Films worth watching on late night TV.
An excuse to consume about ten thousand calories a day.
An extra bit of niceness in the air.
Purring inwardly when someone gives you something you really like - because they knew you would like it.
Red and green things - especially dark green leaves and scarlet flowers and berries.
Being a bit spiritual.
Being a bit spiritual - single malt especially.
Coloured birds in winter sunlight.
The intensity of it all.
Seeing people I love.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:52 PM
Saturday, December 25, 2004
"If the governments of the rich countries were as ready to devote to peace the resources they are willing to commit to war, that would be to see with new eyes and speak with a new voice and perhaps then others would listen to us with new ears."
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 1:00 AM
Friday, December 24, 2004
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Mariscal - his name adopted from a philandering grandfather - designed the famous Cobi mascot used during the Barcelona Olympics in 92. His studio site is a quality piece of work, blending thoughtful personal philosophy with some wonderful images of his prolific and distinctly Spanish work. The studio designed the visual identity for the Glasgow Lighthouse and took visual cues from the work of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, architect of the building.
I've never seen this before but apparently it's a vastly popular site.
Portraiture at it's most elemental. Minipops use pixels most sparingly to caricature celebs. Worryingly addictive.
On the same site:
10 fun things to do over C*******s.
Even more C*******s cheer.
Fret no more - that gift problem is solved. Who's heart would not melt upon receiving the Princess Diana clock? Hurry now to order before he runs out of Pritstick.
From B3TA comes their rude ripoff of Bandaid. [Some of us addressed this theme previously] With a strangely familiar masthead in the opening frame. Surely they wouldn't? The vid is very funny if you're sick to the back teeth of 'Do they know it's Christmas?'
[ A. I think they probably do by now - shut the f**k up ]
Thought for the day
"Birth is circumstantial. To whom one is born and when and where one is born, amounts to nothing more than circumstances. What is important after birth is to not confuse these circumstances with essences."
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:47 PM
Monday, December 20, 2004
Pity them for they will live the majority of this decade governed by a man they have little respect for - and they are truly sorry.
Here's one for you to make later
Should you be in need of some creative exercise during the next few weeks why not make one of these?
All you need is electricity, a suitably configured computer, a compatible printer, printer ink, paper or card, scissors, sharp knife, sticking plasters + directions to nearest hospital, glue and a bit of patience.
Better still why not make several and give them to all your friends and relatives as expensive and fascinating gifts that will remind them of your generosity throughout the year?
I bet you feel good now - I know I do. Clicky
Play your cards right
Those Labour gurus are a bundle of festive fun.
So confident are they that you will want to pay £85 for a plastic card with your eyeball on it they are urging you to sign their little petition.
Current cost: estimated at £13 billion. [This will go up. This sum would significantly alleviate African hunger - I vote to spend it on that.]
They say you won't be compelled to carry it. The police say you should be compelled to carry it. I wonder who will win? There are c. 60 million people in the UK. What proportion of these are potential terrorists / NHS & benefit fraudsters? and how will a plastic eyeball card catch determined naughties? Plainly there are better ways of achieving those objectives so what will the cards really be used for?
It reminds me of teachers who punish the whole class to flush out the badboy. We used to riot when they did that. I refer my honourable readers to the alternative arrangement I recommended some months ago.
It's not too late to fax your MP.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:42 PM
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Rhubarb can cause double vision.
If Jesus were alive today he would probably be a Professor of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science at MIT.
Mutant has been arrested for being naked in public.
Blue Witch is a sucker for soft toys.
Neville Brody designed the Guardian website.
Contemporary musical popularity is at odds with my ageing perception of quality.
Kylie suffered from 'deConstruction interregnum'.
Russian history is not always black and white.
If current trends continue, all Americans will be overweight by 2050.
Zed is lingually perforated.
There are at least 3 types of wheel clamp, Hanson, Triangle and Dutch.
I know this because soon I can become a
fully qualified vehicle immobilisation executive.
[* Month as in 4 weeks]
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:16 PM
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Suitably disoriented by trying to find it within the grim Barbican complex, I had the place pretty much to myself. What other fool would be visiting on a cold wet evening in late December?
The exhibition is presented in a haphazard grouping which echoes the fragmented aesthetic of the architecture itself. Projects are grouped around loose themes rather than chronologically and are represented in slideshows, models and panels. Sadly there weren't many orginal drawings or sketches to be seen. This gave the show a sterile quality that was only partly relieved by some talking head footage of Libeskind discussing his work on the opera, Saint Francis of Assisi . I'd known that he'd been a virtuoso pianist and accordionist before taking up architecture. I hadn't appreciated how much music is integral to the conception of his ideas. When you know, of course, you can see it - not least in the poetic titles of many project elements. 'Wedge of light', 'Park of Heroes', 'Air Shard', 'Void', 'Orion' - to quote a few.
Of course, it's the World Trade Center rebuilding project which has propelled Libeskind fully onto the international stage. This project takes central place in the exhibition and is represented chiefly by a reproduction of the winning model from the New York competition. [Shame you can't get closer] This model gives a strong impression of the cluster of new buildings grouped around the hallowed Ground Zero. The towers, benign sentries with steeply angled roofs all pointing down towards the twin tower footprints etched into the memorial park at their base. The model is lit from within and the translucent walls of the buildings glow comfortingly like church candles. There is strong emotion running through this design which reconciles the almost impossible tension between the need to remember with dignity and the need to satisfy Manhattan mammon. I wrote back in February about the difficulties Libeskind has been having in realising his vision. Having seen at first hand the coherence of his ideas for this site I hope the vision can survive - it will be a fitting and powerful memorial.
A tantalising glimpse of the axed V&A Spiral in the form of samples of the fractal tiles which would have covered the building. The exhibition text describes the Spiral as though it is a live project - a day after the show opened they decided it wasn't to be. Our loss.
Libeskind apparently makes no distinction between unbuilt and built projects. He's interested more in the ideas. What it is to be driven by your ideas - sufficiently brilliant to get others to pay you to develop them? The sometimes disorienting visual language came from music. A suite of early drawings, shown in the exhibition, articulated a musical score-like aesthetic which can be seen running through the subsequent architectural and theatre projects. I'd not known this previously. I still don't fully get it. Those drawings are very mysterious to me. He's out there on the edge this man.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:21 PM
Friday, December 17, 2004
I thought it was time that I paid a visit to the recently opened Architecture Gallery at the V&A. It's a rich mix of all sorts; from the Islamic to the High Tech. From the Acropolis to the Gherkin with all points in between. I think the gallery serves as a very good survey of architectural ideas, styles and history. It's only one, admittedly large, room - so nothing is covered in huge depth. Nonetheless it's thorough and scholarly. You can pull open a drawer and see an original Mies van der Rohe drawing. Work out for yourself the differences between Corinthian, Ionic and Doric orders. Appreciate the mathematical beauty of Utzon's Opera House shells. I really enjoyed my visit and I think it's one to go back to again and again.
Highlights this time:
1. Model of Basil Spence's Festival of Britain Sea and Ships Pavillion.
2. Original drawing of Giles Gilbert Scott's K2 telephone box.
Secondly, a visit to 'Space of Encounter: The Architecture of Daniel Libeskind'. At the Barbican. First off, the Barbican is a nightmare. How on earth they ever designed such a godforesaken pile of alienating crap I'll never know. Dark, menacing, confusing, oppressive - I won't go on - it's irredeemable in my book. The exhibition is difficult - Libeskind has to be experienced in 3d I think and this exhibition is very dry and theoretical. If you've not seen a real Libeskind building [ and there's only two in the UK so far ] it might leave you cold. The show really made me think though and I'll be back tomorrow to say a bit more.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:59 PM
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 8:37 PM
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Tallest bridge in t'world. Deceptively simple. Gerkintastic M'Lord.
Two and a half inches thick and 1400 calories - and they wonder why their eyelids need liposuction. Gross.
Licence to kill
Living wills disturb me. Doctors get it wrong. People change their minds. Miracles happen. Life is sacred. 'Slopes' and 'slippery' come to mind.
"geezers.co.uk - a new haircare range for men who want the 3 "F"s - fun - fashion - and the other. [ er - would that be faux fur ? ]
A range of 12 "men only" haircare products that will ensure that you look the "dogs b******s" on every social occasion."
Geezers Gunk Removing Shampoo looks promising.
Do they know it's baaaad?
The mogadonmart singers have created a cover version of 'Do they know its Christmas'. I heard it tonight for the first time. Like multi-Pasquales accompanied by the Smurf Chorus. Who needs Dizzee Rascal when you've got Ron from accounts karaokeing for minimum wage in hiz spare time? Bitchin.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:54 PM
Monday, December 13, 2004
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world"
Interesting day today. The first day since I started my new life where I've spent a large proportion of the day in 'negotiations' over what people are going to pay me and when they are going to pay me. As a hitherto institutionalised wage slave it's a little different to waiting for your online bank balance to magically ramp up a few digits at the end of the month. This is all new to me and I have to say it's really quite interesting. Not least because it determines if I can eat over Christmas.
Most of the financial negotiations I've done in the past have been when I'm spending the cash - either mine or others. The power balance is different now. I'm trying to remember my strategies for dealing with people trying to part me from my money. Which ones were the most successful and how did they persuade me? I want some of that skill now. I realise it's not enough to be good at what you do, smile a lot, and have great hair. No, now you have to give 'added value' to your customers. I'm considering offering a free swedish massage and primal therapy re-birthing pool in an effort to add a touchyfeeliness to my stark wares. Aware of the need for sustained and meaningful eye contact at key moments, I've been practicing looking empathetic yet assertive in the mirror. So far I've just managed to look shifty - which is not the desired effect.
When it comes to the verbals I'm also in need of work. I need to make my offering more seductive to my prospectives. I find that the Barry White basso profundo scares nearby fauna so maybe I need to do a Pasquale and go for the nurturing side of my clients - predominantly female so far as it turns out. It's all so complicated. So much easier if I could go in wearing a T shirt saying, "Gimme your money - I'm really good at this and I need to buy bananas for my babies".
[ This post appeared yesterday in early editions of bignjuicy - whilst I was asleep ]
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:36 PM
Saturday, December 11, 2004
These are some of my favourites:
Your red scarf matches your eyes - you close your cover before striking.
Come, walk with me baby this were my life 1980 year that God made me.
The more you ignore me the closer I get - you're wasting your time.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life.
Ask me and I will play so sweetly I'll make you smile.
Bands won't play no more.
Now he's swapped his legs for roots, his arms and soil are in cahoots.
Isn't she lovely, isn't she wonderful.
But as you ascend the ladder, look out below where you tread.
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.
A full on chemical reaction brought by dark devine intervention.
What do we do for our dreams to survive?
Swirling clouds of violet haze.
Bonus points if you can id the artists or track.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:31 PM
Thursday, December 09, 2004
He's at it again. Frothing and foaming and using words dripping with bile and hatred. He's in the spotlight and all he can do is do what he's always done and play to his audience that think like him. He is the mouthpiece of a generation that have suffered. He's getting old now and the bluster isn't quite as fearsome as it once was. There are children in Northern Ireland that don't know what it is to live in fear of bombs and bullets. There was a time when I never thought that would happen. The fact that it has happened cannot be denied and it is marvellous to behold. When I see the twinkle in the eyes of young people in Northern Ireland I know there is hope. When I look in to the eyes of yer man I quickly change channels. There was an old dear on the telly the other day who was about 80. They asked her what she thought about the latest 'peace talks' breakdown. "Like the song says - give peace a chance", was her smiling reply.
© Steve Bell 2004
If you use blogger, gmail, google, amazon or any combination of the three - this link - via Birdy portrays a vision of future conglomerates that will know you and your habits probably better than you know yourself. Makes me think about what I commit to this blog and what might become of it. Once it's out there you never know where it's going to end up and how it might affect you or others in the future. I decided to remove the Google desktop search I've been trialling. Very useful but slightly sinister methinks - confirmed by the fact that the uninstall routine took control of my browser and directed me to a little googlequiz about why I didn't want them anymore. So now I've told them about this via blogger can I expect some googlegook calling me to find out why I've left the fold?
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:59 PM
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
The prospect of another 'proper job' is on the scene. Just as the trauma of my previous imprisonment receded, the financial reality began to kick in. Dangling before me is a reasonable guarantee of 'security' - albeit part time so I'd be able to pursue my dreams in the off hours. The choice is do I trade some of my new found freedom and take the bitter shilling doing something which pays the bills but leaves me largely cold or risk continued uncertainty? Healthy pressure not knowing where your next bean is coming from - pressure enough to drive me to make a success without 'going back'. Dear reader - what oh what should I do?
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:59 PM
Sunday, December 05, 2004
Laboratoires Bignjuicy have been conducting research into decrepitude in an effort to stave off the purchase of a sportscar and botox combo. [ I blame Ant and Dec ]. We discovered this amazing gizmo - which as far as I know is the first thing ever that regenerates the elastin within human skin. Bignjuicy Hall is currently floodlit with them. I'm going to be as smooth as a bambino's botticelli. We're talking taut baby.
We're also looking into recruiting onto our team geneticist, Aubrey de Grey the sight of whose beard alone makes me feel ten years younger - but even better he reckons it won't be long before my life expectancy will be a thousand years. More worrying is the thought of everyone living to a thousand. Imagine, they'll raise the retirement age to nine hundred. You'll be in the pub and get chatted up by someone. Next thing you know you're waking up next to a 600 year old. David Furnish eachyerheartout.
Also on our recruitment list is Howy Jacobs.
He is a kuledood if ever there was one and I like the way he thinks:
"We are at our most productive when we share our thinking,' said Jacobs, professor of genetics at Tampere University, Finland, for the past eight years. 'One night of crazy brain-storming over a few beers is likely to produce more exciting results than 20 years' solitary study in the laboratory."
"And as for the general issue of why I dress like a punk, it's a non-question. Punks are rebels and scientists are rebels. So this fits perfectly."
Howy is a man after my own heart, "I didn't want to follow the path of one of those little sea creatures that finds a niche for itself under a rock and then quietly filter feeds for the rests of its existence."
Using a group of hunchback mice suffering from hair loss, osteoporosis, loss of fertility, heart disease and Parkinson's disease like symptoms - [ what's the likelihood of finding a hunchback mouse in Finland you may well ask ] - he and his team have opened up the understanding of mitochondrial DNA errors and the potential for solving a number of serious age related illnesses. He's now been awarded the prestigious Descartes prize for the work.
Bookings for the Bignjuicy Ultra Rejuvo Process will be taken shortly.
Now I just need to find a way to locate my phone under infra red light.
The TV has gone mental too - keeps switching from channel to channel willy nilly. One minute I'm Walking With Dinosaurs the next I'm finding a 900 year old woman in the jungle with purple hair strangely attractive.
Better up the dose.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:43 PM
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Following my anxiety attack. After a frenzied few days I've done Xmas:
Everything has now been consumed and
a: Been thrown in the bin.
b: Flushed down the toilet.
c: Fed to the cat.
The only task remaining is to have the Serious Family Disagreement (aka Blazing Row) - this is pencilled in for between 2.30pm and 3.15pm tomorrow. Then we can all go home and enjoy ourselves. What a relief.
Thankyou advertising agencies and retail masterplanners - if it hadn't been for your timely reminders from August onwards I might nearly have forgotten about it all. Please can you start earlier next year. Maybe March?
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:42 PM