December 2001 - Sinister

Sinister: Judy never felt so good except when she was sleeping
by Daniela Varanda 02 Dec '01

02 Dec '01

Hey. I had never had a dream coming true so fast. Yesterday I got home at 7:30'PM and I had nothing to do in the evening. I hate these Saturday nights. My boyfriend had traveled and I had to stay here in order to do a stupid test on Sunday (the test you gotta do in order to enter college. I'm trying to study another course, so I have to do this again). And when I was lying in my bed, I thought to myself "I wish I only woke up tomorrow". And I only realized that at 2 AM, when unfortunately I felt like going to the bathroom and woke up for 10 minutes. Then I fell asleep again. For an insomniac girl, this is almost like watching a B and S concert (let's say ... a "little" less exciting). Now it's 8 AM and I am having some pizza. My junkie days are coming back while my bf says I'm getting "fluffy". Isn't he the "cutest" thing????????? Beto, I need an information: where did you buy the new EP? I wanna find it today here in São Paulo, but i can only afford the brazilian one. I hope you have a great Sunday (I know we are all able to do that). Tonight I'm gonna meet my iugoslavian friends and have some european food and drink a lot of wine and meet my ex boyfriend and pretend I don't love him anymore and get home drunk as hell lying to myself pretending I'm happy. Love and wine, Daniela (wish me luck this afternoon, please!) _______________________________________________________________________________________________ Yahoo! GeoCities Tenha seu lugar na Web. Construa hoje mesmo sua home page no Yahoo! GeoCities. É fácil e grátis! http://br.geocities.yahoo.com/ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: The cat done wrong again
by Rosseta 02 Dec '01

02 Dec '01

Booooooooooooooo When I opened that account, this damn connection kept the name of my owner !!!! I´m going to scratch this connection !!!! *grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrsssssss* =^..^= Sent by MeowMail.com http://www.meowmail.com The online colony for today's well-wired cats and their human valet. +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the undead Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "peculiarly deranged fanbase" "frighteningly named +-+ +-+ Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: ensorcelled by sinister on a clear, cold December first night
by figure2＠fsmail.net 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

Ocht.I just feel like it. Stumbling over this threshold into a vacancy I don't suppose I should be filling. But say I get out of the habit? I could end up in a gorilla outfit. Actually, I am hesitating and feel a bit furry around the ankles. Mmm... carry on: it's only letters on a screen. Squeezed out, like juice from a glace cherry: the twitches of intimacies concealed; the gagging of a loudmouth! Or someone with little to say, even if he did buy some CD's the other day, ate sausages and travelled by the public omnibus more than once. paraphrasing, sort of I knew it. I'd get material by reading other posts. I. 'm .scared. of. plagiaBCDEFHIJKLMNOPQRism, and 1) I can't write like girls do 2) I have an oxidationsmittel-set for instant rust, if not trust 3) Jeremy must be English 4) non-sequiturs are the new 1) I can't write like girls do it got me started what the cuckoo clock didn't tell I have a tip that I'm afraid only works in Scotland if you have a radio alarm clock and you get up at 5am weekdays. If you tune the alarm to go off at this hour, on the hour, there's a swirly but rousing jingle on that frequency at that moment which dovetails with charming neatness between somnabulance and bouncing out of bed into the freezing pre-dawn air in a sickeningly determined - if not yet aware of its own cheerfullness- way. I used to have a cuckoo clock, which went off all night. I liked it, but I was young then and got to lie in. It is in a cupboard now, beside a collection of some hundreds of hotel brochures I collected. I sent these wee white cards edged in gold from one of those special marker pens requesting a brochure from the... the life of a delusional small-town snob ... various Grand Hotels of the world, most of whom replied, with a greater or lesser degree of enthusiasm. The Atlanta Hyatt sent me a T-shirt and a whole stack of brochures, the Hotel Richmond in Geneva has one of the nicer brochures, and the Connaught in London has no brochure at all, but sent leaflets outlining the facilities of Claridges and the Berkley instead. Not our Princess, but one of the Windsors, uses their open-air rooftop pool. This information is not in their leaflet but the hotel is in London, after all, where you can't move for the grand and the ghastly. And good, rich people who swim a bit. On a similar ticket, Rolls Royce cars sent me a book. Why am I spouting all this garbage? CUCKOO! CUCKOO! Piss off ye false bird propelled on cheap Swiss clockwork! [a closet door slams with turbulence arising of a simmering satisfaction on the one side and ruffled plastic feathers on the other] have I done my bit in the length/duration department? Questions, questions, always questions, innit? No. mmm I think I have the answer. And so to bed. Gordon with every ground smooth weld shoring up a glassy elevator; when intricacies of corinthian on Pall Mall are only stone; whether oblivious to one hardness or all too aware of another; the shadows and the light combine to chiaroscuro and reflections, not grey _______________________________________________________________________ Never pay another Internet phone bill! Freeserve AnyTime, for all the Internet access you want, day and night, only £12.99 per month. Sign-up at http://www.freeserve.com/time/anytime +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: Daniel Johnston and Yuji Oniki
by pharkle＠gmx.de 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

hey y'all, this is kind of unrelated, but Daniel Johnston will be performing at 12:00 noon EST on our college radio station tomorrow, and there will be an interview with japanese pop-guru Yuji Oniki at 1:00pm and i thought i'd let you know in case you'd like to tune in. you can listen over the web at www.wbar.org thanks for the support, -alex -- GMX - Die Kommunikationsplattform im Internet. http://www.gmx.net +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: well...a diary entry a day late is better than none at all.
by lindsey baker 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

hello sinister. i am proud to report that on november 30, 2001, one sinister miss mandee may and one sinister miss lindsey lou met. worlds collided, lives were changed. and yes, boys were pulled. we posted in the midst of our frenzy, and had foolishly attached a wee photo of us in a lincoln coffee shop. oops. so, you all didn't get our fantabulous message or photo. but. never fear. i will, at least, post a copy of our post. and some kind of photographs of the event will come to you in some way. of us two, smiling and giggling at the boy who took our picture. and, it is hoped, we can get you the much lauded coffee-shop web cam photo. because we look so damn cute in it. oh, yes, one more thing to add to this revamped post, especially from misslou: mandee is adorable, kids. :) and, she gave me a cigarette. i thought smoking was attractive before. but. now that i might do it from time to time (against the bidding of all my friends), i think it got a whole hell of a lot sexier. ok. here we go again. note: i have edited some parts of the following post so that it makes, ahem, sense. > hey kids. > > misslou and missmandeemay here. > > specifically. in the back. like two birds on a wire, huddled in front of > #sinister. giggling. and drinking. coffee. not booze. :( > > he he. > > mandee is crying for that emoticon, mind. > > but. we are :) to be together! > > so. be jealous that you could not be with us. your lindsey is on the > leftmost side in the back, and dear mandee the right. (EDITOR'S NOTE: this refers to the web cam photo of mandee and lindsey, wherein the two are pictured sitting at a bank of computer's in lincoln nebraska's own coffee house.) > > let's see. this COULD have been a midwest picnic bash blast, but. no one > responded to our offers. so. we did it anyway. :P > > what we have done so far: > > listened to mandee's sister leslee read an amazing little story at a way > artsy-type club here in lincoln. then. went to dinner at lindsey's most > favoritist restaurant in lincoln. then. went to lindsey's abode (tonight: > roach-free.) then. went to a small performance of lindsey's, ahem, > BOYFRIEND. he he (don't get jealous, now, about that.) then. coffee and > computers and waving at web cams. > > many more jealous-making activities to come. > > and lindsey might add that we both look FABULOUS tonight. we have really had > to fend them off, if you know what i mean, especially this dude working > here. we have pulled SO MANY, that our bags are bursting with digits. all > the boys, though, are of course not worthy. > > props to topher for making the photo part of this email possible. :) (EDITOR'S NOTE: the photo part is actually, as of yet, not possible. but. props to topher anyway.) > > no props to our missing #sinister friends. > > he he > > we have but one more mission to complete and truly rock the town of lincoln. > it is bound to become a sinister picnic tradition that will be carried on > throughout the world forever!! > > so. you'll have to wait to hear about that. > > so ends this part of the lou-may sinister event. > > your misslou and mandee may > and so. the rest of the story is to come. love to the peeps. your misslou (and mandee, i should think, in good spirit) ______________________________________________________________________________ Send a friend your Buddy Card and stay in contact always with Excite Messenger http://messenger.excite.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: ease your virus in the sea (PLEASE READ)
by Kenneth P Y Chu 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

Please read: This is a public health message for sinister members. I think a few of you (especially those who have posted recently) would have been receiving mysterious e-mail messages from various members of the list. Titled Re: Sinister: whatever your message was. With some kind of attachments like Card.doc.pif or great music.mp3.pif. They are mostly characteristically 40k in size. And the tell tale sign is the ".PIF" extension in the file name, "great music.mp3.pif" may *look* like an mp3 file, but it isn't because the extension is actaully .pif which is a runnable program (and thus, probably a virus, why else would it be disguising itself as an mp3). I think this virus transmits itself by replying to every message you receive with a virus, and therefore something like this list would be very vulnerable as everytime you post someone would send you a virus (it's ok as long as you don't open the attachment) and so please, be careful. If you think you have a virus (e.g. if you've opened something like that recently - for example a supposed mp3 file that did nothing). Write me and I'll find out how to get rid of the virus for you. Or if you're a pretty girl looking for love, write me too. :-) Finally if you're an expert on virus removal please shed some lights as to how to get rid of these e-mail viruses. No puns today, with the seriousness of this virus talk I felt a pun would be ill-humoured. ahem. May all your computers be disease-free. Love and Red Bulls Ken _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: like a little slug i won't be bugged by trivia*
by chris perriman 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

wow - i'm impressed. bobby looking like a vintage rod stewart, the girls all in flares [i do like a girl in flares], mick looking funny with a bass and no trumpet, beans all embarassed at being on the telly, richard in a 'perthshire advertiser' t-shirt, stevie... just being stevie and struan holding his mic lead like a proper crooner, i was loving it thricefold. but who the hell is/was boz scaggs??? and the lighthouse family may be crap but they were named after st. mary's lighthouse in whitley bay which just up the coast from me, not that you needed to know that. and then last night i dreamed of B&S a friend and i were robbing a toy shop, we had hi-tech radio transmitter/recievers so we could talk to each other but we couldn't figure out how to switch them on so we chucked them away. belle and seb were playing a secret midnight gig in the toy shop and all the harry potter toys looked like Beans, they even came with a little keyboard. then when i got home i was a mafia hitman and i was hunting down my parents but i kept missing them and my dad was constantly telling me how to do it better. i shouldn't have told you all that last bit, someone's going to psychoanalyse me and inform the authorities that i'm a danger to myself and others and the men in white coats will come for me... ...again. but wouldn't B&S dolls be a good chrimbo gift? you would press a button on their backs and they'd come out with a snippet of a favourite tune. yeah! oh! i got the new single, it came this morning. i like all the songs, not the best they've ever come out with but i like them all the same. but i keep expecting them to come out with 'what did you do there? we got high' on ILMC, its very itchycoo park, non?, but with a jazz band. Struan said wank on national TV, the man has style ok, toodle-oo then take care Pez * Trivia - from the latin 'tri via', literally 'three roads'. a signpost was placed wherever three toads came together, on which was placed local gossip and information. pez's fact of the day is brought to you in conjunction with 'his headful of useless knowlege'. your home may be at risk if you do not keep up payments on any mortgage or other loan secured upon it. www.pez.com - the wonderful world of pez ;) ivorytowers.8m.com - ivory towers records www.drpez.com - Dr Pez, Spain's premier fish doctor (i think) _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: stronger than alcohol, more great than song, deep in whose reeds great elephants
by stacey dahling 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

Today I tried to subtly mold two impressionable youths into Belle and Sebastian fans. Its been two weeks since I started being an English-speaking play mate to two 8-year-old twins. Every time I got home, exhausted, and went into #sinister to bitch about the brats, someone would inevitably ask, So have you made them listen to Belle and Sebastian yet? Ha! I always remark. AS IF I bring a B&S CD with me and slide it into the family stereo. AS IF they would appreciate. AS IF. Well, today I happened to have my laptop with me and as I taught them how to play Snood I happened to put B&S on repeat on my media player jukebox. And I left it on the entire time. Ahhh. Sweet sounds. So when one throws a tanty and the other squeals with glee and throws balls off the ceiling, I have Stu telling me itll all be okay. Or making some sly reference I know they will never understand. Did it calm them down any? No, not really. But by the end, the girl was recognizing songs and humming a bit. And when the music stopped, the boy asked for more. Oh yes. I shall repeat this experiment. Today I also got yelled at by the mom. AGAIN. Last time she yelled at me it was because I had allowed the twins to run around inside the house; when she came in, things were in disarray. My lesson: the kids will inevitably run around the house, but clean up after them, dumbass. Or lure them outside. Outside = GOOD. Anyway. Yesterday, I got yelled at for letting them hide in closets during hide-and-seek. Um. Where else are they going to hide??? Hmm. Today.. what was it? Oh! I didnt eat enough. Or something. Something I forgot: yesterday, the mom stayed home and I desperately tried to think of something to keep the kids occupied and quiet in their room. I thought, wouldnt it be nice if they wrote little letters to my sister? Yes! They will write. They will think they have a penpal. It will be good. The girl wrote a nice message, something to the effect of: I love Stacey and I love you too. The boy scribbled away in earnest. Then I chased the girl out of the room into another room to make cutout snowflakes and an hour later the mother cries out for the boy (Vangelis) and marches in with the letter he had been writing my sister. Who is Sandy? she demanded. What is this? she said, waving the letter around. Er. My sister? They wrote to my sister? I stammered. Perhaps this sounds odd? Hmmm. I hadnt even read it. She did. You read Greek? she asks me. I lie and say no. So she reads it out loud to me, translating: Dear Sandy. I love you. You make my body hot. I want to have sex with you. Will you have sex with me? Love, Vangelis. Oh lordy. This is an EIGHT-YEAR-OLD. Needless to say, Vangelis was scolded. And my role? Um.. uncertain. Every day as I leave that house I wonder if I am going to be invited back. She fired the last girl because she couldnt control the kids. And I feel that although the kids love me in some inexplicable way shocking to all involved, she keeps giving me little tests and I keep failing them. Yesterday, for instance, me and Francesca get yelled at because we left a mess in Vangelis room. She tells us to go clean it up. Francesca refuses to go until she finishes a drawing. The mom insists. I stand there, willing Francesca to go with my eyes and thoughts. But she does not budge. So the mother looks at me and says, you tell her! I do, and of course she ignores me as well. Does this mean I have no control over them? Today I took a stand. I thought it would be fun to bring along my digital camera and laptop so the kids could take photos of each other and alter them on the computer and all that. It would be educational! Yes! And it would keep them quiet. Yes! Well, Vangelis really took a fancy to this camera and refused to give it back. It eventually ran out of film but he refused to believe he could take no more pictures. Eventually, there was a showdown in the garden. I won! I got the camera back. Then he tried to climb a wall to spy on the neighbors. I told him to come down. He did not listen (they do this innovative trick where they pretend they dont understand English at just such moments). So I made a face at Francesca and we ran away and hid in some bushes so that he would jump off the wall and come find us. It took awhile, but it worked. He started crying though, upset that we had abandoned him, and marched inside to call him mom and tell on us. I let him, figuring this would work to my advantage. He would cry, Mommy, Francesca and Stacey played hide-and-seek when I didnt want to and I didnt like it. And, well, I wanted to climb a wall and spy on the neighbors and play with her camera but she took it away and wouldnt let me and now she turned off the tv when I wouldnt talk to her. And the mom would think: good, the girls finally disciplining the brats. He whined, then Fracesca grabbed the phone and explained (shes got my back! Yay!) and the mom told her to run off and play with me and let Vangelis watch TV if thats what he wanted to do. FINE WITH ME. Yar. Oh, I get mixed signals. Like, shell yell at me, then she comes over and says she knows some other families who might like my services, am I open to referrals? Ha! Hell yeah. And she whispers, Their kids are better behaved than mine, at which point I grin. She says shed like to help me, that Im a good girl. That she moves in the right circles. Or something. Hmm. Go figure. So next weekend, I meet their friend Fanny, who I already met and who was wonderful and sweet and speaks much better English. And then I will become Fannys play mate as well. This is very exciting, because there is good money in this play mate business. Spending just 8 hours a week with the brats pays my rent. A few more hours a week with a sweet-natured girl should cover food and bills. And then theres any other kids I might pick up through her circle, and my actual career - writing - which occasionally brings in large sums of cash. That should cover fun things - like chocolate and cheese. Yes. Im set. Soon Ill be able to buy a walkman, so Ill have something to keep me occupied during the 4 hours a day I spend traveling to these rich suburbs. Mmmm hmm. I feel a bit ill. I think it was the greasy potatoes I attempted to make for lunch. The mom left out some chicken fillets and a vat of oil, ready to receive some raw potatoes. Now, I usually shallow fry my potatoes in a big skillet, with very little oil, and they become brown and crisp and not at all disgusting and oily. But these potatoes, sizzling away in the vat of oil, became mushy and gross. As a last-ditch effort to save them, I drained them and threw them in the chicken skillet, but they did not brown. No! And the kids looked at them in disgust and refused to eat them. So I was left with a big plate of mushy potatoes. And carrots. While they ate the chicken. And carrots. An hour later, I felt like I was going to vomit. Enough about the brats already. Is this all Im ever going to talk about now? Has my life dissolved into mindless chatter about what horrific or tantalizing things Francesca and Vangelis did today? Dear me. There was one other thing that happened this weekend. It was last night, after fleeing the brats and waiting 40 minutes for the bus, in the freezing night, with the other hired help in the neighborhood. Get this: I went - by myself - to a SHOW! Yes!!! It was only the second show Ive ever been to in Athens, which is quite telling of the music scene here. There was a time when I would be going to an average of 10 shows a month. Now - two shows in 7 months. Anyway, it was a random band, Tilsbury Cloves or something, in a teeny CD store - the only cool CD store in the city, actually. It was a 7 release gig. It was awkward. Did I mention the store is teeny? Very. And there were all sorts of hip and semi-hip kids there, a rare site for me actually, and they all seemed to know each other. Which makes sense, considering how tiny the scene must be here, with so few shows and so few fans of such bands. I felt awkward going alone as it was, but when entire groups of people stared and pointed at me, it made it that much worse. The band was actually quite okay. They had this semi-electronic/synthesizer thing going on, and the singer at times sounded very Field Mice. There were a few sad attempts to rock out electronically, but overall, not too bad. AND there were visuals. Slides projected, backwards, against a far wall. Going to shows is such a love-hate thing. There was a time when I was so sick of going, and would spend hours debating whether to get off the couch and walk 100 feet to see a friend of a friend play drums or sing or.. whatever. Many times, if the show involved any sort of drive, it was ruled out almost immediately. Whats the point of going to a small little club, pay a few dollars to stand uncomfortably in the back of the room and scan the same small crowd of faces I had memorized years ago? And the smoke and the bad beer and running into the crazy guy I always seemed to run into. Or getting annoyed at the little twerps who think they have discovered indie. All to hear a few songs I sort of liked, played live. But now I miss it. So much. I miss the cozy feeling of being in a small area with a group of people with whom I have this unspoken bond. It doesnt matter that I dont speak to half the people in the room, that I never have and never will. I know their faces, their names, their stories. I feel part of a scene. I know who every local musician is, what their day jobs are, and the incestual, instrumental, inter-band musical chair games. I see them on the street and I nod and smile. We acknowledge each other. We KNOW. We all know. So I stayed at the show. Even though I felt awkward. Even though the doors were kept open and my toes had turned into icicles. Even though my back was aching from chasing brats and standing too long. I stayed because I needed the people to memorize my face, to begin to recognize me in a crowd, to acknowledge me, to become part of a scene. And maybe eventually I will meet one of them. I have discovered a good cure for the blues. Its a song, by Loudon Wainwright III, called Pretty Good Day. It goes a little something like this: I slept through the night, I got through to the dawn. I flipped the switch and the light went on. I got out of bed and put some clothes on; it was a pretty good day so far. I turned on the tap, there was cold there was hot, I put on my coat to go to the shop. I stepped outside, I didnt get shot; it was a pretty good day so far. I didnt hear any sirens or explosions, no mortars coming in from those heavy guns, no UN tanks, I didnt see one; it was a pretty good day so far. No snipers in windows taking a peek, no people panicked running scared through the street. I didnt see anybody without arms, legs or feet; it was a pretty good day. There was plasma, bandages and electricity. Food, wood and water, the air was smoke free. No camera crews from ITV. It was all such a strange sight to behold. Nobody was fightened, wounded, hungry or cold. And the children seemed normal, they didnt look old; pretty good day so far. I walked through a park, you would not believe it. There, in the park, there were a few trees left. And on a few branches there were a few leaves. I slept through the night I got through to the dawn. I flipped the switch, the light went on. I wrote down my dream, I made it to song; its a pretty good day so far. Yes, perspective. Does me wonders. And oh.. Kingbury Manx is lovely too. Who knew? Mr. Howie did. Thanks, David. Any other suggestions, send em this way. Please. Thank you. Thassall, I promise. Be good! MWAH! ~dahling http://www.geocities.com/dahling007 _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: stronger than alcohol, more great than song, deep in whose reeds great elephants
by stacey dahling 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

Today I tried to subtly mold two impressionable youths into Belle and Sebastian fans. Its been two weeks since I started being an English-speaking play mate to two 8-year-old twins. Every time I got home, exhausted, and went into #sinister to bitch about the brats, someone would inevitably ask, So have you made them listen to Belle and Sebastian yet? Ha! I always remark. AS IF I bring a B&S CD with me and slide it into the family stereo. AS IF they would appreciate. AS IF. Well, today I happened to have my laptop with me and as I taught them how to play Snood I happened to put B&S on repeat on my media player jukebox. And I left it on the entire time. Ahhh. Sweet sounds. So when one throws a tanty and the other squeals with glee and throws balls off the ceiling, I have Stu telling me itll all be okay. Or making some sly reference I know they will never understand. Did it calm them down any? No, not really. But by the end, the girl was recognizing songs and humming a bit. And when the music stopped, the boy asked for more. Oh yes. I shall repeat this experiment. Today I also got yelled at by the mom. AGAIN. Last time she yelled at me it was because I had allowed the twins to run around inside the house; when she came in, things were in disarray. My lesson: the kids will inevitably run around the house, but clean up after them, dumbass. Or lure them outside. Outside = GOOD. Anyway. Yesterday, I got yelled at for letting them hide in closets during hide-and-seek. Um. Where else are they going to hide??? Hmm. Today.. what was it? Oh! I didnt eat enough. Or something. Something I forgot: yesterday, the mom stayed home and I desperately tried to think of something to keep the kids occupied and quiet in their room. I thought, wouldnt it be nice if they wrote little letters to my sister? Yes! They will write. They will think they have a penpal. It will be good. The girl wrote a nice message, something to the effect of: I love Stacey and I love you too. The boy scribbled away in earnest. Then I chased the girl out of the room into another room to make cutout snowflakes and an hour later the mother cries out for the boy (Vangelis) and marches in with the letter he had been writing my sister. Who is Sandy? she demanded. What is this? she said, waving the letter around. Er. My sister? They wrote to my sister? I stammered. Perhaps this sounds odd? Hmmm. I hadnt even read it. She did. You read Greek? she asks me. I lie and say no. So she reads it out loud to me, translating: Dear Sandy. I love you. You make my body hot. I want to have sex with you. Will you have sex with me? Love, Vangelis. Oh lordy. This is an EIGHT-YEAR-OLD. Needless to say, Vangelis was scolded. And my role? Um.. uncertain. Every day as I leave that house I wonder if I am going to be invited back. She fired the last girl because she couldnt control the kids. And I feel that although the kids love me in some inexplicable way shocking to all involved, she keeps giving me little tests and I keep failing them. Yesterday, for instance, me and Francesca get yelled at because we left a mess in Vangelis room. She tells us to go clean it up. Francesca refuses to go until she finishes a drawing. The mom insists. I stand there, willing Francesca to go with my eyes and thoughts. But she does not budge. So the mother looks at me and says, you tell her! I do, and of course she ignores me as well. Does this mean I have no control over them? Today I took a stand. I thought it would be fun to bring along my digital camera and laptop so the kids could take photos of each other and alter them on the computer and all that. It would be educational! Yes! And it would keep them quiet. Yes! Well, Vangelis really took a fancy to this camera and refused to give it back. It eventually ran out of film but he refused to believe he could take no more pictures. Eventually, there was a showdown in the garden. I won! I got the camera back. Then he tried to climb a wall to spy on the neighbors. I told him to come down. He did not listen (they do this innovative trick where they pretend they dont understand English at just such moments). So I made a face at Francesca and we ran away and hid in some bushes so that he would jump off the wall and come find us. It took awhile, but it worked. He started crying though, upset that we had abandoned him, and marched inside to call him mom and tell on us. I let him, figuring this would work to my advantage. He would cry, Mommy, Francesca and Stacey played hide-and-seek when I didnt want to and I didnt like it. And, well, I wanted to climb a wall and spy on the neighbors and play with her camera but she took it away and wouldnt let me and now she turned off the tv when I wouldnt talk to her. And the mom would think: good, the girls finally disciplining the brats. He whined, then Fracesca grabbed the phone and explained (shes got my back! Yay!) and the mom told her to run off and play with me and let Vangelis watch TV if thats what he wanted to do. FINE WITH ME. Yar. Oh, I get mixed signals. Like, shell yell at me, then she comes over and says she knows some other families who might like my services, am I open to referrals? Ha! Hell yeah. And she whispers, Their kids are better behaved than mine, at which point I grin. She says shed like to help me, that Im a good girl. That she moves in the right circles. Or something. Hmm. Go figure. So next weekend, I meet their friend Fanny, who I already met and who was wonderful and sweet and speaks much better English. And then I will become Fannys play mate as well. This is very exciting, because there is good money in this play mate business. Spending just 8 hours a week with the brats pays my rent. A few more hours a week with a sweet-natured girl should cover food and bills. And then theres any other kids I might pick up through her circle, and my actual career - writing - which occasionally brings in large sums of cash. That should cover fun things - like chocolate and cheese. Yes. Im set. Soon Ill be able to buy a walkman, so Ill have something to keep me occupied during the 4 hours a day I spend traveling to these rich suburbs. Mmmm hmm. I feel a bit ill. I think it was the greasy potatoes I attempted to make for lunch. The mom left out some chicken fillets and a vat of oil, ready to receive some raw potatoes. Now, I usually shallow fry my potatoes in a big skillet, with very little oil, and they become brown and crisp and not at all disgusting and oily. But these potatoes, sizzling away in the vat of oil, became mushy and gross. As a last-ditch effort to save them, I drained them and threw them in the chicken skillet, but they did not brown. No! And the kids looked at them in disgust and refused to eat them. So I was left with a big plate of mushy potatoes. And carrots. While they ate the chicken. And carrots. An hour later, I felt like I was going to vomit. Enough about the brats already. Is this all Im ever going to talk about now? Has my life dissolved into mindless chatter about what horrific or tantalizing things Francesca and Vangelis did today? Dear me. There was one other thing that happened this weekend. It was last night, after fleeing the brats and waiting 40 minutes for the bus, in the freezing night, with the other hired help in the neighborhood. Get this: I went - by myself - to a SHOW! Yes!!! It was only the second show Ive ever been to in Athens, which is quite telling of the music scene here. There was a time when I would be going to an average of 10 shows a month. Now - two shows in 7 months. Anyway, it was a random band, Tilsbury Cloves or something, in a teeny CD store - the only cool CD store in the city, actually. It was a 7 release gig. It was awkward. Did I mention the store is teeny? Very. And there were all sorts of hip and semi-hip kids there, a rare site for me actually, and they all seemed to know each other. Which makes sense, considering how tiny the scene must be here, with so few shows and so few fans of such bands. I felt awkward going alone as it was, but when entire groups of people stared and pointed at me, it made it that much worse. The band was actually quite okay. They had this semi-electronic/synthesizer thing going on, and the singer at times sounded very Field Mice. There were a few sad attempts to rock out electronically, but overall, not too bad. AND there were visuals. Slides projected, backwards, against a far wall. Going to shows is such a love-hate thing. There was a time when I was so sick of going, and would spend hours debating whether to get off the couch and walk 100 feet to see a friend of a friend play drums or sing or.. whatever. Many times, if the show involved any sort of drive, it was ruled out almost immediately. Whats the point of going to a small little club, pay a few dollars to stand uncomfortably in the back of the room and scan the same small crowd of faces I had memorized years ago? And the smoke and the bad beer and running into the crazy guy I always seemed to run into. Or getting annoyed at the little twerps who think they have discovered indie. All to hear a few songs I sort of liked, played live. But now I miss it. So much. I miss the cozy feeling of being in a small area with a group of people with whom I have this unspoken bond. It doesnt matter that I dont speak to half the people in the room, that I never have and never will. I know their faces, their names, their stories. I feel part of a scene. I know who every local musician is, what their day jobs are, and the incestual, instrumental, inter-band musical chair games. I see them on the street and I nod and smile. We acknowledge each other. We KNOW. We all know. So I stayed at the show. Even though I felt awkward. Even though the doors were kept open and my toes had turned into icicles. Even though my back was aching from chasing brats and standing too long. I stayed because I needed the people to memorize my face, to begin to recognize me in a crowd, to acknowledge me, to become part of a scene. And maybe eventually I will meet one of them. I have discovered a good cure for the blues. Its a song, by Loudon Wainwright III, called Pretty Good Day. It goes a little something like this: I slept through the night, I got through to the dawn. I flipped the switch and the light went on. I got out of bed and put some clothes on; it was a pretty good day so far. I turned on the tap, there was cold there was hot, I put on my coat to go to the shop. I stepped outside, I didnt get shot; it was a pretty good day so far. I didnt hear any sirens or explosions, no mortars coming in from those heavy guns, no UN tanks, I didnt see one; it was a pretty good day so far. No snipers in windows taking a peek, no people panicked running scared through the street. I didnt see anybody without arms, legs or feet; it was a pretty good day. There was plasma, bandages and electricity. Food, wood and water, the air was smoke free. No camera crews from ITV. It was all such a strange sight to behold. Nobody was fightened, wounded, hungry or cold. And the children seemed normal, they didnt look old; pretty good day so far. I walked through a park, you would not believe it. There, in the park, there were a few trees left. And on a few branches there were a few leaves. I slept through the night I got through to the dawn. I flipped the switch, the light went on. I wrote down my dream, I made it to song; its a pretty good day so far. Yes, perspective. Does me wonders. And oh.. Kingbury Manx is lovely too. Who knew? Mr. Howie did. Thanks, David. Any other suggestions, send em this way. Please. Thank you. Thassall, I promise. Be good! MWAH! ~dahling http://www.geocities.com/dahling007 _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: the magic of a drunk word
by Archel Playforth 01 Dec '01

01 Dec '01

have just been out for tapas and alcohol (mainly alcohol) with - god help me - work colleagues, so please excuse any typos in the following text. i just watched jools holland, who is an annoying twat, not doubt about it. 'welcome. tolater. with. MEJOOLS. holland. now, belleand SEBASTIAN with. THE magic of. A. KIND. word. still, you can't deny his eclecticism. endearing energy from feeder, proper blues with a modern twist from boz scaggs (is that any sort of name?). wrinkly pop from tom jones. crap covers from the lighthouse family (who all have either too much or too little hair). etc. the lowest point was the awful mutual back-slapping between tom and jools. on the other hand, there was undeniably boogie. and woogie. magic of a kind word was underwhelming as an opener. isobel looked as bored as ever. but IWUTU was great, and struan's white t-shirt (arms of sex) could hardly fail to please the girlies, though he did look strained. perhaps it was that fake schoolboy enunciation taking its toll. b&s finished with TBWTAS complete with struan on paino, which was a nice surprise - plus isobel not only smiled, but also donned a sombrero and played the recorder. which is not to be sniffed at. today i also read that independent interview. stuart comes across as a bit whiny, unfortunately. not happy with mike hurst's work on IWUTU, felt that todd solonz didn't make full use of their contribution to storytelling, etc. he also nearly had a nervous breakdown while recording 'fold your hands...' on the other hand he thinks the band are performing better live now than ever before. afficionados who say that this wouldn't be hard are simply uncharitable... for the full interview, which was interesting despite factual errors, go to: http://www.independent.co.uk/story.jsp?story=107508 blimey, i stink of garlic. riocha and tortilla and calimari are beginning to take their toll... luv archel xxx *************************************** archel(a)iname.com For the best in new writing on the web, visit www.buzzwords.org.uk Contact us on buzzwords(a)bigfoot.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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