Second Hand Blu-Tax
Firstly I must apologise, I have of late been greatly slack in actually posting on this little scamp. I have, also, of late spent very little time at home, which may have something to do with it. Now, my wandering days are over, and I intend to be getting a domestic on as much as I possibly can. Or at least a work-on, which may be the same sort of thing.
I'm preparing various posts at home about all the non-Brighton things, so, for fear of accidentally repeating myself, they might have to wait for a few days until I can wrest my laptop from Daniel Taylor and blog the six weeks of different forms of transport I have taken part in.
Instead, let us return to the fair city of Brighton and Hove, otherwise known as the Quite Windy City (curse you, Chicago! Just because you've got a musical and you're the home of ER and Police Camera Action, you think you can purloin an epithet like that? B&H was called The Windy City when it was burnt to the ground by the French in 1506!). I'm at work. I'm having a cup of tea.
For the last week or two I've been in the grip of a great poststructuralist Archive Fever. I have boxes of it, the clutter of many a mopped brow and emptied pocket. When I was back in St. Albans, I turned my attention to 1995-1999. I've since been working my way through 2000-2005. The former was condensed down to a mere cupboard-full, and with many surprises and notable memorabilia, including some original Ky Tung Pang artwork, my 1998 diary, Malteser Dancefloor booklets (hell yeah!), and letters upon letters upon letters...
Ky Tung Pang self portrait, 1999
Cover of 1998 Diary
Not only has this delve into Nostalgia been productive and fun (I even found my Picture-Of-Drew-Kirk-Jacking-Off-That-Is-Signed-By-Alan-Fletcher), but it's filled me with a great desire to catch up with numberous people I've completely and utterly lost touch with. I hate losing touch with people at the best of times (I imagine it probably goes hand in hand with keeping great boxes full of 'souveniers' from the past), and leafing through these massive crates of forgotten clutter really brought it home. So this is another resolution for the '07. To find them and to bring them home. In a manner of speaking.
The other resolution, I think, was to form a band in the style of Queen, and record a concept album about the murder of Jill Dando, telling the dual stories of Jill Dando and Barry George, the Amateur Stuntman Turned Celebrity Obsessive accused and convicted of her murder. And we're going to dress as birds of prey and have bird-of-prey-handler glove stylee microphones. As has often been noted before, there's not enough innovation in the music scene these days.
January is a frugal month, and has been breeding much home economics from those around me. Tom made four loaves of bread in 27 hours yesterday, one after the other, whilst Jed is converting a massive heap of sevilles into marmalades of varying sweetness. I bought some blackbean sauce to cook with but ended up spooning it.
So the downside of working today is that I don't get to witness Andy and Jacob's viewing of some hot philosopher on philosopher action. They're having a grand viewing of Donald Davidson in conversation with John Mc Dowell. Much as I would love to watch these titans clash, not to mention Mc Dowell and Davidson, I may have to wait for another time.
More resolutions to follow, I imagine.
I'm preparing various posts at home about all the non-Brighton things, so, for fear of accidentally repeating myself, they might have to wait for a few days until I can wrest my laptop from Daniel Taylor and blog the six weeks of different forms of transport I have taken part in.
Instead, let us return to the fair city of Brighton and Hove, otherwise known as the Quite Windy City (curse you, Chicago! Just because you've got a musical and you're the home of ER and Police Camera Action, you think you can purloin an epithet like that? B&H was called The Windy City when it was burnt to the ground by the French in 1506!). I'm at work. I'm having a cup of tea.
For the last week or two I've been in the grip of a great poststructuralist Archive Fever. I have boxes of it, the clutter of many a mopped brow and emptied pocket. When I was back in St. Albans, I turned my attention to 1995-1999. I've since been working my way through 2000-2005. The former was condensed down to a mere cupboard-full, and with many surprises and notable memorabilia, including some original Ky Tung Pang artwork, my 1998 diary, Malteser Dancefloor booklets (hell yeah!), and letters upon letters upon letters...
Ky Tung Pang self portrait, 1999
Cover of 1998 Diary
Not only has this delve into Nostalgia been productive and fun (I even found my Picture-Of-Drew-Kirk-Jacking-Off-That-Is-Signed-By-Alan-Fletcher), but it's filled me with a great desire to catch up with numberous people I've completely and utterly lost touch with. I hate losing touch with people at the best of times (I imagine it probably goes hand in hand with keeping great boxes full of 'souveniers' from the past), and leafing through these massive crates of forgotten clutter really brought it home. So this is another resolution for the '07. To find them and to bring them home. In a manner of speaking.
The other resolution, I think, was to form a band in the style of Queen, and record a concept album about the murder of Jill Dando, telling the dual stories of Jill Dando and Barry George, the Amateur Stuntman Turned Celebrity Obsessive accused and convicted of her murder. And we're going to dress as birds of prey and have bird-of-prey-handler glove stylee microphones. As has often been noted before, there's not enough innovation in the music scene these days.
January is a frugal month, and has been breeding much home economics from those around me. Tom made four loaves of bread in 27 hours yesterday, one after the other, whilst Jed is converting a massive heap of sevilles into marmalades of varying sweetness. I bought some blackbean sauce to cook with but ended up spooning it.
So the downside of working today is that I don't get to witness Andy and Jacob's viewing of some hot philosopher on philosopher action. They're having a grand viewing of Donald Davidson in conversation with John Mc Dowell. Much as I would love to watch these titans clash, not to mention Mc Dowell and Davidson, I may have to wait for another time.
More resolutions to follow, I imagine.
posted by Rufus Moonshine at 4:53 AM
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