Wesley Willis

I have already managed to forget how I heard about Wesley Willis. I think his name was mentioned in an online article about some doomed semi-obscure singer. I am listening to his CD "greatest hits volume 2". Needless to say he never had a hit, but was famous enough to have fans. When he met them he used to head butt them in a slow way. His CD, "greatest hits volume 1" is selling for twenty quid on Amazon. He talks and rants in a semi-crazed way on the CD I now own.

pink elephants

I have been trying to cut down on drinking a couple of beers before I goto bed. In principle this should mean that I feel a lot fresher in the morning. However I find that I have very vivid dreams when I sleep sober. I think that the alcohol is suppressing my imagination. For example on Sunday I dreamt that I was wondering around town trying to find a place to mastibate in the street. Then there was a big hole in my penis, where blood gushed out. So I felt like sh*t on Monday, even though I didn't go out and party on the booze the night before. I am sure there could be some kind of Freudian interpretation of this dream, but it is particularly mean to use sexual desire in a nightmare. Normally sexual fantasy in dreams is a good way to hide from the killers in the nightmares. On Tuesday I drank some beer before I went to bed. I had a dream about a puppy and the dog I owned when I was a child. Ummm. Of course if I told this story in the real world, people would start to mutter about "pink elephants" and flying pigs. The Floyd are touring again, so the flying animal may in fact be real this time.

bins and entropy

Another week passes. Another bin full of rubbish. The cycle continues.

I think from the contents of the bin that `i try to live a frugal life.

4

I was planning to go and see some French film on Friday night (Tell No One), but a last minute computer problem forced me to stay slightly late. So instead I went to see the latest "fantastic four film" at the local Grosvner theatre. It was an OK film, but it didn't do too much for me. Frankly I don't go to watch super hero films, to see them have angst about getting married. More explosions! It was all too cute and bright, even though one of the characters get tortured for a short while. In his review of the fantastic 4 film Mark Kermode mentioned that you don't get to learn a lot about the mythology of the "silver surfer" from the film. The history of the silver surfer comic is interesting, if the Wikepedia entry can be believed. The comic got killed because of too much angst.

friendship

I have been living a fairly reclusive life the last few years, so I don't have too many close friends. I do read that people with a happy family and social life live longer. But trying to make friends by grasping people by the collar and shouting "be my friend. I don't want to die," has frankly not improved my circle of friends. The real reason for this post is that I wanted to sign up for Jost (Internet TV), but I need a friend to refer me. I don't know anyone who has Jost. I am not moving in hard core nerd circles. Anyway, let us see if the power of the google blog search will help me find a friend who will refer me to a beta Jost account. I so deserve to be an early adopter. Friends help their friends spend more time online.

Black-Scholes

On the train to my mum's house, I read "Fischer Black and the revolutionary idea of Finance" by Perry Mehrling. Fischer Black was a theorist who invented ways to study the stock market and money. I am starting to understand this derivative (in the finance sense) business a bit better. He was a loner recluse, but still managed to be married 3 times. He had a very clever filing system that allowed him to work very efficiently. I didn't know that they didn't understand the stockmarket in the late 60s, and early 70s.

stag night

I went to a stag do last weekend. While I was out in Edinburgh one time, I saw a lot of people wearing fancy dress. I was a bit worried that a stag night in Glasgow would also mean having to wear a some kind of fancy dress, or perhaps even worse a shirt. Luckily though a stag night in Glasgow is a more classy affair than in Edinburgh. The plan was to drink a couple of beers and then take a trip to a strip joint. I have to admit I bailed on the strip joint part. Obviously, a trip to a strip joint might have livened up the stories I tell, but frankly it all seemed very expensive. So I sat in a pub instead till closing time, choosing booze over naked flesh. The next day it was the West End festival. The West End was full of people. I didn't see any of the parade, but spent all my time dodging people. Somehow there seemed more drinks on the street this year, then last year. Clearly the best place to see the parade is to sit in a pub in Ashton lane, and munch on a burger. I am only happy when I am not happy.

bin day

I think it has been two weeks since I posted a picture of my bin. Somehow I didn't produce enough rubbish. Also I stayed at my mum's house last week. A bit of a harsh week.

Kate Nash

I sent to see Kate Nash play at King Tuts on Sunday. I got there just as the support act were finishing up. The venue was packed, but the support act were not very loud. The audience seemed to like them, so what do I know? Every time I have been to King Tuts, the venue has been packed. This could be because I only go out to see people half way up the escalator of fame and fortune. Kate Nash played a very intense set. She swears a lot -- a good sign.

El Topo

Hippies shouldn't be allowed to make films I went to see the film "El Topo" at the Glasgow film theatre (GFT) on Friday. The GFT is the main art house cinema in Glasgow. El Topo was apparently a famous film in the early 70s. F*ck knows why. It starts with a gun fighter looking for a gang who murdered a village. He finds the gang and some hippie chick. Then he goes in search of four gun men in the desert. Then he dies and wakes up in a cave with a bunch of people who are deformed. The plot goes on, but I guess that you are having problems following. I am glad I saw it, and it was not as pretentious as my crappy plot synopsis makes out. I am probably just bitter, because I cou\ld have gone to see "the battle of Algiers" instead.

another bin day comes around

Another week, another bin full of rubbish. It is the futility of it all that gets me the most. The week starts with the bin pristine and clean. After a week of harsh living the bin is full of decomposing food and polluting packaging. This pattern will repeat for the rest of my life. There must be a way of breaking out of this cycle of existence. Buddha, wot do ya say?

some old sounds

When I was around 16 to 18, I used to listen to Marc Boland's T-Rex a lot. As time passed I didn't play Trex so much -- partly because I am trying to keep up with the new sounds from new bands. Also Marc Boland was viewed by some people (such as John Peel) as a bit of a twat. Also I found out that Boland was one of the first "boy bands". Ok, maybe the monkeys were first... I was pointed in the direction of Boland's first band called "John's children". This is before Boland got into glam, but the sound of "John's children" is really exciting. Boland was writing the songs, but somehow he wasn't totally in charge. Since we are talking about groups who are perhaps not so famous, I also got a copy of the CD "Y" by the pop group. This group recorded during the late 70s. I am not an expert on musicology, but this doesn't sound like they are playing pop music. In fact it is not clear that all band members are playing the same song. This is not to say that they were one of those punk bands who couldn't play- but somehow it is a wonderful mess. Since we are talking "post punk", the fopp store in Glasgow tried to tempt me with a CD by magazine. For some reason, I remember that I need to own a magazine CD. Also, if you see me out in a CD shop you will sometime see me say "fu*k" near the section that starts with "b". I will get a CD by "the blue orchids" one day.

from autumn to ashes

I went out to see the band "from autumn to ashes" play at King Tuts last Sunday. They are a new metal band. Frankly, I just wanted a night out. They were pretty intense though, so I enjoyed their set. I also bought a ticket to see Kate Nash play. The gig is 8 days away. I can't wait.

steel

I have to admit I do spend a lot of time looking at myspace profiles. Some may call this stalking, others may simply suggest that I get a life. Some profiles have a picture of people pointing a gun at at the camera. I don't worry that these people have real guns. They don't look so hard to me. When I was at school I took a course in theatre arts (that I failed). One thing I did learn is that the audience in a theater suspends their belief for the show. They accept that people don't really die on stage. This seems similar to me not being worried by gun carying myspacers. Somehow I can accept that the gun is not real. Does the contract of disbelief transfer to other weapons? I think I would be more worried by pictures of people holding a knife. There is nothing fake about cold steel. Anyway here is a picture of my machete. You can judge whether you are worried or not. I don't view it as a combat blade.

beer from around the world

I was walking by the off licence at the end of Byers Rd in the fabulous West End of Glasgow. An old man with a long white beard beckoned me in. Dostoyevsky, I thought, and I walked into the shop to shake his hand. But poof he disappeared, as I entered the shop. The only thing that remained was a bottle of Bajithka 3. Wow, Russian beer imported to Glasgow. Yes, I can get beer from all round the world in Glasgow. Apart from common places such as Germany and Poland, the picture shows a beer from Argentina. I once had a wicked plan to seduce someone by claiming to be able to take them on a world tour. My cunning scheme was then to take them to bar that sells beers from around the world. Then I could innocently say, "what I actually said was that we were going to drink ourselves around the world". I am not sure it would have worked, somehow I guess that most women would think that that world tour means actually going to the country. My theories that drinking a beer from a country allows you to teleport there, wouldn't go down well on your average date. What have I learnt from drinking beer from many different places around the world? Well, beer makes you ill, fat and stupid, whatever country it is brewed in.