March 2001 - Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: NILBYMOUTH.
by Hannah Brown 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

Dear mother of mercy. ive just had a fab week in istanbul and being back here in peckham is muchos depressing. Their music taste out there is pretty strange, the only good stuff i heard all week was that St Germain album, everything else they played was pretty bad. To Jeff: Ive only ever heard one song by Slint and i liked it. My friend always goes on about them. Can you reccomend any particular albums? By the way are they signed to rough trade? Ive never heard of Rex, are they anything like T-Rex (god im funny). About sounding like GSYBE um, we dont, that was just one persons perception (and he is weird). Imagine a painfully out of tune guitar, going like the clappers with lots of distortion and bleeps, mixed with a screeching male voice saying the likes of "woa, got to get my shit on, gotta hole in my pocket and pain in my head baby" and thats us (Sonic Arcitecture). im great at selling my band arnt i. To chris browning: im glad to have cheered you up. To the guy who finds glasses on women attractive. I think you are a rare case. I wear glasses and find them a pain in the butt, especially at gigs when they steam up and get knocked off alot. Ive only had one case with a guy who liked my glasses and he was grim. Im crap with men anyway but they definitley dont help. In fact they've made me quite insecure because i hate taking them off in front of people. in fact, I think i might have to sue specsavers. Bout the leicester thing, i understand now that the brighton beach is in fact in leicester and will most definitly be there. i might sort out doing some visuals for the night as well. YES! hannah +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: So who in here likes spandex and red top boots? Not me that's for sure!!!
by davie kerr 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

You know all this talk about parents making passing comments and shit about Belle and Sebastian is ,in my humble opinion, a good thing. Although I don't know why. or maybe it's just the fact that I cannot be bothered thinking. is it just me or does consumption of alcohol not mix well with thinking?? Or maybe my thought processes is far to advanced to be experiencing this cheap ass vodka. Anyhoo.....the comments thing. I listen to a lot of Belle and sebastian while at work. Boy does their whistleable little ditties help pass the hours. So I was at work listening to Judy and the dream of horses one of my favourite B&S tunes. I couldn't beleive the comment I got from one of my colleagues. I'll describe this guy fisrt OK. Old, as in late 50's, perverted and swears constantly. In fact he looks like the sort of guy who would watch young ladies in the park whilst sitting on a park bench stroking himself under his raincoat. Well when the song had finished he asked me who it was so I of course proceeded to tell him and his reply was: "Yeah that was good. Sounded almost human." Human? What in the f**k does that mean. I told him to stick to his Doris Day nonsense. Although I can't fault him too much as he is a huge fan of the Pogues. Aaaaah Bless his old perverted heart! OK people I be out of here before my fingers cease up and I say anything else more mind numbingly boring than the above. If you made it this far then you are one sad and lonely individual. Aha I bet you thought I was going to pay you a compliment. Peace Out People Davie PS I couldn't be arsed checking my spelling so the first to spot more than ten mistakes wins a free session of Davie Lovin (of course only applies to females) _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: Skeletons Don't Think
by P F 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

BANG I think I BANG I think I must have Music blared. Horns, a garish fanfare of black and yellow. I must have drifted off in front of the television. The book was still sprawled across me and on the large and dull seat that housed my now perhaps excessive bulk. The television was wavering opposite me, in the darkness that had descended in what can have been no more than 44 minutes since sleep, father of dreams, slaughterer of reason, came to claim me, when the lights in the room seemed sufficient not only for the purpose of watching, or in my particular case ignoring, the local news of dockers, weather reports and oriental food outlets, but also for perusing the volume which, as I have said, had so to speak fallen with me, into its own proper abyss, that of the oblivion of the unread. A long face looked solemnly out from the screen. Capitals flashed, excess of bright yellow. FORSTER The music was fading. A street scene. Sirens in the distance. From the television, not from out of my rented window; or vice versa. Either one or the other was probable: indeed both were probable, which is not necessarily to call it probable that both were occurring simultaneously. No, a dog, says Emperor Hylzu-Li IV in his Book of Dogs, may come from East or come from West, but not both compass points at once. It is not a known fact that the Chinese invented the compass. Reflecting on it now, I am no longer even sure that I know it to be a fact at all. Since those days in Warsaw so much of what I took to be knowledge has flown, no, rather has dissipated, like the blown ashes of a burnt library. The television. A street scene. Sirens. The 'protagonist' was now talking to his reluctant 'sidekick'. I gathered that it belonged to the police 'procedural' drama - the irony slaps me now, as I write the words, for 'procedure' is one of the less dramatic words in the language. It has a notably undramatic root whose story I may make ready to tell at some other point in my narration, space permitting, time befitting. In any case, the police were proceeding, the drama concerned these proceedings. This, I gathered as the pair drove up what looked like a San Francisco street - reminding me for an instant of an older police drama whose name escaped me, set, where by San Francisco itself? - this was no ordinary way of proceeding: no, the Inspector, who was clearly the brains behind the joint, the tool of the operation - the language is escaping me also, I shall start again: the head honcho, the man with the man, I mean, the plan - this Inspector, I say, was an enforcer with a special mission all his own. He was on the trail, it emerged, not of criminals in the ordinary sense, but of what he had defined as *crimes against music*: crimes, in point of fact, against the Spartanism, the harshness, the grating uncompromise, that he saw as proper to music. Inspector Forster was a new Schoenberg, no less, or so, at least, I remember chuckling to myself, I would have said to Teddie, had he been here, had he lived to drink martinis with me in Manhattan rather than that foul-smelling tea he favoured the last time I saw him in Los Angeles, 1969, I believe. The year is 1969. No, the Inspector, the music: the Inspector, as I was saying, was a Stockhausen de ses jours, a Rothko of the acoustic, one committed to pain and punishment. And he had made it his vocation - observe with what swiftness television's purportedly feeble narratives tell their tales, make plain their concerns and triffer our understandings! - to pursue in particular those aspects of the musical he most deplored, those fresh trickers whose collective name was MELODY. Each week, it became plain, Forster and his sidekick would at some stage in the narrative screech across town, up hill and down valley, across red lights and down alleyways, in search of some instance of this dastardly class. An earlier episode, I felt sure, must have explained in full the very personal animus which Inspector Forster carried against the Melody class; or perhaps, I felt less sure, perhaps all would be revealed at the denouement of the serial, save that a serial like this had no denouement but simply rolled on, season after season. - Got a live one, Bob. The car radio crackled. The streets flashed past in unconvincing background. - Spill it, Bruce. - Hold on to your ear-plugs, mate. This one's H-O-T. - Don't wear me out, cobber - I'm warning you, I want the facts yesterday. - You asked for it, mate. It's "The Long And Winding Road". I jerked involuntarily in my seat as the camera cut to the car screeching up on to the pavement at an urban corner. The noise of blackboards. - Strewth! Forster and his unprepossessing sidekick looked at each other a long second. The sidekick spoke at last. - Bob- - ROBERT! - Sorry, Robert - are y' sure about this one? Maybe we should just let it go? The Inspector looked ahead, seen through the front windscreen of the car. Seconds passed, centuries. Fate rumbled by in a garbage truck. Raindrops trickled down the glass. - No can do. The car pulled out into the street again. I - I, who had never owned a television set in all those years in Blakeney and Cromer, who had glanced furtively at Herbert's monochrome set in 1968, who had booked the room disdaining to specify the manner of 'media services required' - I was enraptured, in something of the way that Albert Dockenplatz had hypothesized in his Theory Of The Moving-media-image-screen, as long ago as 1927. Music. The two maverick policemen were climbing out of the car. I noticed that the red light which spun and flashed atop it had been placed there on a temporary basis by the Inspector's sidekick. Close-up, from behind, a drawn pistol. We look down the alley. Rain is falling. The sound of rain. BANG There was a BANG There was someone banging on the door. My very heart seemed to strain with the interruption, an interruption like that described by Diderot in Notebook Y (15) on Les Principes de 'Communiquer'. I sighed, rose, stepped on groaning calves towards the door, where I thought was the door's location, knocking a knee against a table, a table bearing all the hallmarks, I would later think, of 1974. - It's over! - It's never over, Bob. I reached the door and pulled it open with my right hand, reaching down at the same moment to clasp my knee and realizing that I had transferred the forgotten book to this hand. The door came open in one hand as I dropped the book with the other and bent to pick it up. BANG I looked up at my visitor. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get email at your own domain with Yahoo! Mail. http://personal.mail.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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: at the arse-end of another year
by yellow bananas 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

hello. since i've only posted 4 times during my career on the sinister list, none of you will care that i turn 21 next saturday. oh god, i'm so depressed. i've done nothing except mess up all my rooms in over 2 decades of living. anyway, i decided that i wanted that lucksmiths song called 21 to be played at my hopefully drunken birthday party. i went to the city, didn't find the album, but found the new album instead. i love it. and they're playing here the day before my birthday. i hope they play 21. i come home and do the next best thing - the download the track off napster. while downloading, another napster entity, sinimaaria, started downloading 21 off my computer as i was downloading the song (and it's still downloading to her computer at this point in time). because bloody napster is lousy, i got disconnected the first time i tried to download the song, resulting in an uncompleted file in my archives. so this sinimaaria (hopefully you're on this list and reading my pointless story. i peeked at your library), starts downloading the uncompleted one, only to be overwritten by my by now completed download. so napster says that it takes 400 minutes to download half a song. and she's 120% done. i'm going to be cut off in 3 minutes, so i hope you get your song (if you're on the list). otherwise i apologise profusely. oops. there's been a transfer error. if sinimaaria is not on this list, then i'm just a buffoon. bye now. hy _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: In my cell - WELL, I LOVED YOU
by P F 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

Ally96 was brief. But better that than rien. Today I was listening to Neil Young and Crazy Horse's LP RAGGED GLORY. Some listee or other gave it to me, I think, at a million-dollar bash. Anyway, I thought of its squalls of sound in terms of pop resemblance: 1. 'Farmer John''s intro reminds me of Graham Coxon. That's not really a good thing, in 2001; but it's no great stain on the hide of the Horse either. This reminds me, by the way. I stuck MODERN LIFE IS RUBBISH on the CD the other day. Greeted by minutes of silence, I decided to insert the disc into the player and try again. It disappointed somewhat. 'For Tomorrow' has been acclaimed as a great London story blah blah, but it is so darned *graceless*. There's even that terrible moment when Allbran sings 'tomorr-OHHH!! SINGING!!!' As Batman would have said: DAMON - *OUCH!* I don't know. Is anyone gonna stick up for that LP now? I have just reminded myself, 2. 'Days That Used To Be' is, listen carefully now, *** THE MISSING LINK BETWEEN 'MY BACK PAGES' AND 'I DON'T WANNA GET OVER YOU'. *** Don't believe me? Try it. Thinking about this reminded me of the old, old question about what it is of which 'IDWGOY' is a pastiche. The answer 'nothing' is unhelpful. I have always thought in terms of 'The Oldest Swinger In Town'. HAVE I FAILED? __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get email at your own domain with Yahoo! Mail. http://personal.mail.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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: I could dance all nite like I'm a muppet (at AnTiciPate, plug plu g)
by Hewitt, Stephen 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

Vel: As April is the cruelest month, as we all know very well, I guess the 1st Sinister picnic 2001 should be on the 5th May, since it's a bank holiday etc... Good plan vellybabes, I suppose the next question is Primrose or Greenwich? Also, as was pointed out to me after my last post, the 28th is when Trembling Blue Stars and Tompaulin are playing Oxford, so i think it might be an OxPicnic kinda day anyway (or at least a Pubnic) Picklywickly: I have created a whole new genre that I affectionately call "MUPPET MUSIC". NONONONONONONO, muppet music is what 15 year olds with green hair and stupidly wide trousers "dance" to, yer green days, yer offsprings, yer snuffs etc, in my world anyway... I do kind of know what you mean though, dancing a la grover, head back, arms on imaginary sticks etc :) PF: I don't know. Is anyone gonna stick up for that LP now? I'll certainly stick up for FT (as a non-londoner maybe my view is more rose tinted) although i do find MLIR sounds much more like L than PL, and wasn't really the radical departure it was claimed at the time, especially some of the more obviously shoegazy numbers such as OW...(discussion to be finished in the queen vic, no doubt) And speaking of the Queen Vic (seamless link ahoy), it's only two weeks (and a little bit) til we board the train of fun and excitement for Camber Sands, YAY! And in case you hadn't heard, for those of you who will be in that London on the Thursday night (ie the fifth of April), there is an evening of music and dancing called AnTiciPate (do you see what they've done, do you?), Upstairs at the Garage, 8 til 2, featuring djs from Strange Fruit, Tigermilking and Mell Street Organisations (including various (ex)members of this parish) and also Gav, King of Partick from Camera Obscura band. It's only 2 squid, and simply *everyone* will be there darling. Details at http://www.mellstreet.co.uk (also lots of grate photos) xoxo CarsmileSteve +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: whats your perversion?
by Primitivepainter＠aol.com 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

Forgive me father for i have sinned. It seems i have a penchant for early eighties guitar pop,that i can't seem to shake. Oh the days when the chesterfields sang whats your perversion...and the dentists sang,she dazzled me with basil. I can't seem to shake that jangling feeling. Oh how i miss the wit and cynicism of McCarthy singing god made the virus(to punish the wicked). I miss Jesse Garon singing splashing along. Due to a severe lack of funds i haven't bought anything new in ages,so i've been visiting the past,and its been great. Early to mid eighties was my time,when indie meant independant,before Mcgee sold Creation and his soul to the devil,you know Mcgee once auditioned for Simple Minds,a scary thought indeed! But all things come to an end,i'm not stuck in a time warp,i love those jangling bands and i always will, but i think i exist for the next piece of music that will make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up,last thing i heard that did that was Delta,i heard the first five seconds of it and it reminded me of the Sea Urchins which was a fair guess as the singer and guitarist were in The Sea Urchins,and of course Kings of Convenience,it made me shiver all over when i heard them. Well kids,its way past my bedtime,i just had that jangling feeling,and i felt like sharing it. laura laura llew *sung in the scooby doo theme* where are you? we've got some work to do now. love and scooby snacks to you all. primitive painter. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: a man, a plan, a canal, panama....
by Rachel Playforth 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

....is the best palindrome ever. so, cambridge was fucking freezing. and i must say i was slightly disillusioned about the so-called scholars - the intellectual cream of our nation and the conversations i took part in went along the lines of: 1) can you get to the moon without relativity? 2) is britney spears more influential than the beatles? 3) grammatically, what is the male version of a dominatrix? (any ideas lisa?) but also had a tingly time listening to rhoda, loneliness..., london has let me down, and pocketbook angel. courtesy of bagpuss boy (see archives) and n*p*t*r. i thought rhoda and pocketbook angel were particularly good, and mourned for their shelving in favour of such oddities as Beyond the Arse. that's democracy for you... scotland = cheapness. when you come think of it, mcdonalds is another example. and i saw a poster in the tube the other day for something called 'McDate'. some kind of actual dating agency. what's that all about? your date is cheap, greasy and fills a hole but inexplicably leaves you wanting something more? parents and music: most recent experience of this tricky area was discovering that the mysterious disappearance of the van morrison cd which jamie was going to give me at xmas was down to his dad stealing it. actually *stealing* it off the pile of presents. luckily i don't really like van m. anyway apart from brown eyed girl. nicholas, you are of course right about the greatness of poetry in book form. i would be lost without my bookshelves, and wouldn't have been putting poetry on the net at all if it wasn't for them. cambridge has some good 2nd hand bookshops. but on the whole it's a strange hidebound community loosely held together by ritual and history. imho. i think i may go to the states and do a masters. any advice? luv archel xxx *************************************** Rachel Playforth 'She may not be famous, but she's right' - Homer Simpson 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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: In the room the women come and go, talking of Michaelangelo.
by Ruvi Simmons 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

Is it a rather pitiful admission that I am sitting at my desk doing nothing but waiting and hoping for some e-mail to arrive and amuse me? I was doing some sewing (is that any better?), but it is all done, and I am, let me be frank, bored to death. My flatmate is watching a film upstairs, so I can't go in the living room, my brother is asleep, and I have nothing to do. I suppose I could skulk around in the hallway, but it isn't a very interesting place after a while - just a lot of shoes, really, although some of them are quite nice. I wish, in fact, that the War was still on. It may have been bloody, but at least it provided some distraction. I can understand why all the crones on the buses ramble about the good old days. At least then they could busy themselves buying extra chocolate rations from spivs, flirt with American soldiers, draw seams on their legs with pencils and sing songs. They were young, with pretty rosy cheeks and dainty waists. Or even squidgy waists, since either can be beautiful. Now they just buy beige jackets or fluffy hats and moan about timetables. I yearn for even that distraction, but I don't have a bus schedule. Perhaps, however, I am merely being self-indulgent. In fact, there is no perhaps about it. I live in a house full of books and in a world full of things to see, hear, touch and smell. I should continue reading The House at Pooh Corner, which I am re-acquainting myself with. Reading it as an adult has brought about no change in my perspective on the book. It is as wonderful, funny and gentle as when I was 6. Perhaps the only difference now is that reading it serves more as a reminder of how important it is to remain ever-curious, optimistic and warm-hearted, something I used to take for granted. I particularly like the fact that Pooh and Piglet both hug Christopher Robin whenever they meet him. I wish I would be hugged by fat bears and clever but cowardly little piglets, but then I suppose, if I close my eyes and wish hard enough, my imagination may just make it so. It has been a long time since I indulged in platitudes regarding the weather, and there may well have been a time when I would boast that it would never happen again, but I can't help commenting on the atrocious conditions that have descended upon London. If there is any good time to discuss the weather, let it be an 3.20am, alone, in a bedroom. I have been feeling quite sorry for the blossoms, daffodils and crocuses that began to blossom a few weeks ago, when the weather was warmer, and have since been subjected to such harsh winds and rain. The poor things looking so colourful and vibrant, bringing their much needed relief from the winter, only to be assaulted by the capricious English climate! Can I indulge in a little bit of melodrama, please? The silence I shall take to mean consent...O cruel Fate, that can attack the frailest emissary of Spring's impending arrival, assault a gentle flower with your barbed teeth and claws, and never shed a single tear! Maybe A. A. Milne should be consulted on the matter: "I shouldn't be surprised if it didn't hail a good deal tomorrow," Eeyore was saying... "There's Pooh!" said Christopher Robin, who didn't much mind what it di to-morrow, as long as he was out in it. Since that is good advice, I think I shall adopt it, if only for a day, after which my memory of events will become hazier and I will become liable to fall prey to other influences. But we shall forget that for the time being. I'm sure the blossoms, daffodils and crocuses have seen worse weather in the course of their existence on earth, and they have survived as, indeed, I have as well. So I will trust in their ability (and mine) to endure, and, I think, go and have a cup of tea. That is undoubtedly good for boredom; it has certainly fortified England from tedium over the past 400 years. Ruvi. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: She's PUTTING OUT on VINYL? God, what a doxy!
by M. Curtin 21 Mar '01

21 Mar '01

Hi all, I have to say this whole dream business has greatly interested me. Only because I've been having the strangest of dreams, though sadly few are directly B&S related. In one I had my left (sinister) arm shot off and no one would take me to the hospital. That was disconcerting. Then in another I was somehow the host of the now defunct CBC show "Ear to the Ground". That was especially weird. Even more so given the fact that this was the same dream in which I had a torrid affair with Joey Jeremiah. But I digress... Last night I dreamt I was reading yesterday's paper and I saw that I had missed an Arlo Guthrie concert. Aside from the fact that this makes no sense whatsoever, I was crestfallen to say the least. The funny thing was that they had a picture of him by the announcement, and this picture looked remarkably like Peacock Johnson. THat is odd. Especially since I began convulsions on the matter and kept screaming: "Just ask Genevieve - that's not Guthrie it's Johnson!!!!!!" THis is bizarre, to say the least. If you're still with me, you can read about my day of miraculous coincidences. If you're not still with me, then you're probably not reading this part. You see, I asked my roommate to wake me up early today. She didn't. I woke up 5 minutes before class. I was mad because I never miss English, and also because I went well out of my way to do the HEAVY reading for today. I was so mad I thought I'd run to class anyway. (I hate being late...I would rather not attend normally). I get there roughly 12 minutes past 11 and I get a little freaked out because my prof's standing in the hall. I walk into class and everyone's dutifully filling out instructor evaluations. I didn't miss a thing. It was good. The only problem was that since we lost time for the survey, my teacher told us we wouldn't be studying "The Wasteland" anymore. I was ticked. But then I went to the mall because I needed to get my photos for applications (it is degrading to go to a photo booth alone...really bad for the self-esteem) and on the wall was this sticker with an Eliot quotation on it. Bizarre, n'est-ce pas? Who goes around wantonly adhering obscure quotations on photo booths? Strange beyond strange. THen i went grocery shopping and wandered into the kids area of things. THey have all sorts of neat candy there. Including Thrills - you know, the Gum THat Tastes Like Soap. I had to buy them because a week before in my English tutorial I had a long discussion with this kid about how one never sees these anymore. And now I saw them. FInal coincidence. I walked up the aisle and saw a giant stuffed turtle that I found utterly cute. I coveted it for a while, and then two doxies were making "get out of the way, bitch" noises at me so I moved into the "cookware" section that really doesn't belong in any supermarket. I was attracted by these space age spatulas (spatulae?) so I went to look at them. My eyes wandered and what did they behold? A lonely display of Elvis playing cards with my name on them (figuratively). WHat a day! Now I can eat soapy candy and play Elvisy euchre - all thanks to two impatient little wenches. WEll, there you have it folks. What a tale to be told. Take care, etc. Marybeth +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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