January 2002 - Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: get fit with jo. registration is free.
by jo perry 06 Jan '02

06 Jan '02

Uncanny how adverts for health clubs and the like become so prominent after christmas. Naturally i expected this influx, remembering how local news programmes love to interview personal trainers desperate to make you lighter, for starters purely by robbing you of your hard earned cash. They rehash the same interview yearly. Alas that is the way the world goes round, creaking with every turn and vowing never to touch a mince pie again. I was called "a bit of a lurker" by my dear Mr Walton and vowed to post when content arose. Imagine my raised eyebrows when MTV Stylissimo used Jonathan David as the soundtrack to some electric hipped women strutting down a catwalk. I was somewhat bemused. That is all. Jojo xx p.s I cannot actually raise my eyebrows or wink, i have never been able to, "whats it all about Alfie?" as Cilla would say. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Everything you'll ever need on one web page from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts http://uk.my.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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: star, teach me how to shine.
by Astrid Wiezell 06 Jan '02

06 Jan '02

Yo sinister, how are you all? I am utterly bored, so horribly bored that I´ve decided to write a post again. Sorry.. I am again at my grandparent´s computer, because our internet is down. Kind of good in one way, because I have to take a walk to get to their house, and well, I have to get some exercise and walk for just like 20 minutes if I want to sit down at a computer. Er.. Well, the positive thing about it, is that it might be good for The New Astrid Version 2.0, that I want to become. I have to start by losing some weight, uh. Horrible, I don´t really want to, but I feel so enormously disgusted when I see myself in the mirror everyday, it must come to an end. I had gained you see, which I never do. That´s my thing; not gaining any weight no matter how much food or sweets and stuff I eat. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, let me lose the weight I want to in like a week and then I can relax for the 51 other weeks. We have some kind of walkingmachine-thing at home, I´ll have to use that one, and start running in the park when it´s not a half metre of snow everywhere. When in Stockholm there´s not really something called "acting cool" anymore, people just slip around, trying to stay on their feet. I´ve fallen loads of times, well, more slipped, but still. It´s kind of disturbing when you think "PLEASE, don´t let me slip or do something strange in front of that beautiful boy" and of course I always do then. Grrr. I haven´t been out yet to paly in the snow, I just walk around in it. But It´s been really cold, now it´s getting a lot warmer. It´s been like.. what, maybe -20 degrees celsius? Yeah, that´s about what it´s been.. Can´t wait til I get to start rehearsing with the band again. My fingers itch; I want to play again. Well, I sit in my room doing solo´s and new songs, but it´s not as fun as playing with the band of course. Tomorrow, hell also known as school starts again. I hate school, I hate going to school, I hate being in school. Sometimes I wander off from some lesson "studying independent", which means I go to some place far from the classroom where I can lye around on a bench halfsleeping. Sometimes I fall asleep, but not very often. Just because I´m like this kind of fast student, I get to listen to music in my freestyle or discman at most of the lessons. I like it that way, being able to disappear in my own little world for a while. But one time was kind of funny, we had what´s called mentor-time, when you´re with just half of the class, and your "hometeacher", the one that´s responsible for the class and all that. And people was just sitting there reading, we are four girls and about 8 boys in our mentor-group,and two of the girls were ill, and then the boys that day (everyday) sat at the other end of the classroom. I was listening to N.Y.C cops, with the strokes in my freestyle when my teacher, Janne, said "Astrid?" which I didn´t hear, I was almost stomping my feet and completely in my own world, and he said my name again, I still didn´t react, so all of the boys started calling my name, and I still didn´t react. Soon, the girl that sat beside me, Kine, a friend of mine, poked at me, I turned off my freestyle and said "What?" and she poined at Janne, who didn´t look too happy. "Could you please turn down the volume a bit, we can hear the music" and I was just like "Oh, sure" and then the whole class started laughing, not in a mean way, but a kind of "Oh, that Astrid"-way. Hee hee. Oh, yeah! I remembered something good! We´re gonna dance again! YAY! I had such a blast the last time when a dance teacher came and all of us in our grade had to dance with eachother. The most fun wast probably the last one, it included a lot of body contact, haha. We were all standing in a cirkle, facing another person, and we shold like do like a high five, then bump our elbows, our hips, our knees, our feet against eachother, the you kind of circled the other, and you did a bit of arsebumping as well, haha. I laugh at the memory of it just because I had to be with a boy who is like this "cool, misunderstood alternative", according to himself and I was actually going to do that stupid, stupid, oh ever so STUPID thing. Actually, he is a great dancer. And I still remember when I danced with Martin (*girly sigh*) Oh, we had so much fun. He smiled at me during the whole dance, and we just couldn´t stop giggling (it should be said that although he is a very goodlooking boy, he is kind of a snob, he listens to bad music and is sometimes a real know-it-all, and he is known for being kind of impolite to people, and very egocentric) and I said something about that he should become a dancer or something, and he said "Really? Do you really think that? That´s so sweet of you!" and I was like "oh well" and then we just kept dancing. Then he put his arm around my shoulder and said that we were good together.. ah.. PAUSE. My GOD, which teenmovie am i from? I am turning into one of those giggling-girls, that only moves in groups and always wear cute clothes and are air-headed bimbos. I´ll have to be tougher and be rude I guess. People always mistake me for listening to punk. What the hell?! I do not listen to punk. And the clothes I wear is a lot more grunge than punk, if you even want to label me that way. Pfft. Oh, by the way, I´ve been to Lord of the Rings now, brilliant, brilliant, brilliant movie! I´ve already seen it twice, this wednesday adn yesterday. I am also reading the books now. My favourite character is definitely Pippin, which the actor Billy Boyd plays with brilliance. Even though Elijah is a part of my three favourite E´s (tm) ; Elijah, Ewan, Ethan, Pippin was more of my kind as character. And he had a lovely accent as well. On dress-up day one day before school ends for the summer, I´ll be a hobbit. With my being qute tall, I guess I should be an elf, but as I am not veryfond of very long blonde wigs, I think I´ll go as a hobbit. It´ll be cool because my hair can get very hobbity if I sleep when it´s wet. I get messed up, and really wavy hair so it´ll be fantastic. Plus I get to wear comfortable clothes. Well, I have to go now, much to your relief I guess, haha. Love, Astrid P.S Am I honestly really happy now? I dunno. Maybe. I´ve thought about it a lot. I don´t think I´m really happy, just happy. I´ll be really happy when I lose that extraweight and look alright again. AH yes. Take care, all of you. _________________________________________s_p_r_a_y_ Här börjar Internet! Skaffa gratis e-mail och gratis Internet på http://www.spray.se Vinn en Nokia 5510, spela spray quiz http://quiz.spray.se +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: And the planets collide as you walk up my stairs
by JENOWL22＠aol.com 06 Jan '02

06 Jan '02

Hewwo, Ooh, I haven't posted in ages. Maybe even months I don't know. I haven't been able to read all the messages because I did that thing where I let everything build up. But the computer hurts my eyes to use a lot. I got sick again and I was in hospital a couple of times. They thought that maybe cause of all those times I got kicked in the head by hard kids there might have been some permanent damage. But the scans and scary tests and stuff said nothing serious was up so they sent me home. Which will be swell until one day I pass out in the middle of a busy road and get run over which I'm convinced is going to happen. But before I got sick I went to see camera obsura in the notting hill arts club (i think) and they were pure dead brilliant. Even though there was a guy before them up and I think I was quite rude because I got all hysterical with laughing at him because he wasn't very good. But he had this keyboardy guy who only played in one song. And when his song came up you could just tell that he was wetting himself with excitement because it was his moment, but he was trying to look super cool and not bothered. And there was this one song where the chorus went "cunts shits wankers pricks" or something and his face when he was singing it was so serious it made me giggle lots. Oh and I think I saw stuart murdoch. And one of the boys in camera obsura has bowling shoes which is my ambition to get. I had a nice christmas too. I didn't really want to hang about at home for the festive time so I stayed with my friend who was spending it on her own and we made the most amazing christmas dinner with turkey and mashed potatoes that were all creamy and yule log and we did it all by ourselves and it was grate. New year was good too. For the second year running I entertained the Lovely Ian Hatcher and we went to see lord of the rings which was ace and harry potter which wasn't, and we went to the 13th Note Club too where chris geddes was DJing even though the music was a bit mokeish and met some other people from sinister (hi) and I managed not to wake up in my own sick which is what happened last time I went there and drank far too much happy juice. Oh oh oh oh oh and we went to the CARNIVAL. Which excited me grately because I love carnivals. And I got a rainbow painted on my face and I got a purple sand person thing made which had a witches hat with purple on it and the guy who made it said it looked like me because i was wearing everything purple and i went on some scary rides and I wanted to go on more but the Lovely Ian Hatcher was too scared so I just settled for candy floss and toffee apple and slushie and the MOST AMAZING CHIPS IN THE WORLD : carnival chips, which taste better than anything on the planet (apart from ribena). And Ian won me skipping ropes on a stall thing. But now he's gone home and I miss him a lot. So I cried and beed a bit hysterical and got snot everywhere and threw up because I'm prolly a bit mental. But not at all beautiful like in the song. I'm not obese any more though cause I used to be obese and now I'm not which is quite encouaging. Someone ripped up a tree and left it outside our front door. It was quite scary. I opened the door and it was there, all sad and ripped up. But its roots were there so at least it can get a good home in the soil. Hugs, Jen +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: lime
by ian 05 Jan '02

05 Jan '02

(before i start, a brief word of explanation. zac foley, bass player with emf, died yesterday. the cause of his death has not been released, and it seems to have been more-or-less ignored by the News. i'm afraid this is another obituary. the man deserves one for oh-so-many reasons) a dream, without sleep... it is said that every person possesses a chord, and that this chord links them to the rest of Existence. some say the chord is white, some silver, some red. some say an individual has not one chord but several million, reaching out from all areas of the body to every conceivable energy source around them. some say, if you twanged the chord, it would sound like a guitar string. ---------------------- this can't be saint peter. he looks younger than me. he's also blonde, well-built and sporting a rather large packet in a tightly-fitting pair of tennis shorts. still, it looks like the right place. i try not to look at his crotch as i step up to the gate "errr....excuse me?" with a sigh, he puts down his mobile phone.. "yes?" "are these the gates of heaven?" flashing a smile of infinite patience, the blonde puts his arm around my shoulders, leads me several yards to my right, and points at a placard on the railings. i put on my reading glasses, thankful that i brought them with me in this dream, and try to assume my best Superior Librarian expression while i read it: "These are the gates of heaven. Yes, The GATES OF HEAVEN. Yes, those gates. No, they aren't like you imagined them, because we didn't build them to please YOU" "oh.... i see....." clearly i'm not the first to ask this question.. "err... i wanted to talk to saint peter" "and you are???" "i'm ian. oh, i'm not dead-. not yet- at least i hope not-" "i can SEE that. i do this for a living. well, you found saint peter" i look at his face, and try not to imagine it in my crotch.. "you....you're....." "yes....yes...." another sigh "look, i'm just trying out this new image. the big guy says we need to update, and i thought this looked rather....erm....groovy....yeah, that's it....groovy" i smile, and gape a little more "you shouldn't think such things about archangels" telepathic AND horny. fucking hell "i'm sorry....its just....its just that..." "you were expecting something a little more traditional, maybe" there is resignation in his voice "i'll go and change" when he comes back, he has a long white beard and sandals. i feel instantly more comfortable, and try and smile to show my approval. he scowls in return, snatching a large red book from a floating cherub - "You're not due yet" "i'm sorry?" "what are you DOING here?" "i wanted to speak to somebody. he should be here...he came here yesterday, or perhaps the day before. i wanted to deliver a message. i wondered if i could see him" i restrain myself from adding "preferably, in the shorts you were wearing earlier" "two days, you say?" he chews his pen "nope, sorry. against regulations" "....regulations? but i thought this was HEAVEN?" "it is. although we like to call it 'afterlife services' these days. a forward-thinking organisation requires regulations. we have to think of our viability in an evolving- "well, when CAN i see him?" "technically speaking, you can't. if he's dead. and you're not. he can haunt YOU if he wishes" (there is an unspoken "but there's no reason why he'd want to" in his voice) "i can't see him at ALL?" "you're catching on. one of the joys of being dead is not having to interact with the living. we don't usually let your sort up here. i have better things to do with my time. yeah, there's a few near-deathers every day but i usually send a close relative out to deal with those. a simple 'bugger off back to earth' usually suffices" "....." "how did you GET here, anyway?" i point to the elevator behind me. it appears to be waiting for someone, for its doors open and close repeatedly and it does not descend. in the corner of the machine, cross-legged on a chaise longue, sits an ex-beatle playing 'my sweet lord'. "dammit, i KNEW we'd have trouble with that. what's wrong with ladders? i said... they worked for jacob and all his contemporaries. then it was escalators. the big guy saw 'a matter of life and death' and liked the idea SO much he had them installed all over the place - good movie, by the way, but it doesn't quite work like - why am i explaining this to you? george, get out of the elevator." a wave of saint peter's hand, and the lift Ceases to Exist. with a sullen look, mr. harrison picks up his sitar and walks towards the wall. i shout after him: "george...if you see zac foley, tell him..." but he doesn't look round, as he steps through the wall and into the Magic Kingdom. "he can't hear you. unless he chooses to. and his hearing aid is switched to 'ignore', i can see it from here" "oh" bastard. we'll have words in the afterlife. i BOUGHT one of his fucking records. he OWES me... "sure you can't deliver a message for me?" the angel is texting someone called 'elijah' on his mobile and doesn't look up "i'll make it worth your while.." "fucking hell, why does he never have his phone switched, on?...... worth my while?" a laugh of derision from a Big Boss Angel is a very humbling experience. i feel very small as he adds "what could you possibly have to offer me?" thankfully, i brought my bag with me in this dream. i dig inside for Somethng Worth Giving An Angel. all i can find is a battered copy of 'tigermilk'. with some trepidation, i hold it out to The Man. he snatches it from me, looks at it curiously, and tosses it over his shoulder. after a few seconds delay i hear it land, with a loud clatter, on a rather fey and winsome boy called colin several hundred miles below. "hey! that's a good album! its one of my -" "album?" another derisive laugh "dear boy, we have JANIS JOPLIN, TIM BUCKLEY, ELVIS PRESLEY up here. tonight, i'm going to see mama cass and john phillips sing together for the first time since he fell off that stool. nice woman, cass, but she's a bit odd. got very upset when i offered her some of my baguette the other - "i'd like to see them play" "i can arrange that. but i'd have to kill you. offer me something better or fuck off" what have i got? a dig in all my pockets reveals....nothing. time to rely on an old fall-back :- "fifty quid and a bag of maltesers..... err... 'cept i haven't got fifty quid, but i can give it you next month, after pay-day, i'll write you an i.o.u" "maltesers?" "yes." is the Keeper of The Gates of Heaven really going to be taken in by cheap chocolate? as if by magic, i find a packet of the honeycombed-balls in my hand and, tentatively, i raise it to the level of st peter's beard. lifting an eyebrow, he tears the packet open, dropping a couple as he does so. he looks at them with disdain and puts one in his mouth. his expression changes utterly. is that the Light of Heaven in his eyes? he pulls me towards him and embraces me.. "these are WONDERFUL. oh, joy.... heaven has nothing to compare... they just melt in the mouth, don't they?" "yes, and they're lighter than ordinary chocolate" "you mean.... paradise will be full, but i WILL NOT?" blimey. don't they have sweets up here? i nod my head in what i consider to be a sage manner, and he beams again "of COURSE i will deliver your message" fucking hell. what was my message again? oh yes.... i grab a handful of cloud as it drifts serenely past, and i implant a kiss in it. "zacary foley was an inspiration to many of us. in some, the emotion aroused was utter joy at the fact that he lifted them out of their heads for a little while, that he tugged on the chords of their existence and pulled them to a reality without worries, thought and pettiness. he pulled them closer to YOUR reality, peter (if i can call you that) the reality you, and the big J espoused. he helped them, for a second, just to BE. in me, the emotion aroused was generally best expressed with my right h-" the angel appears to have nodded off. i re-think my message. "just give him this" i pass the cloud with the imprint of my lips on it "and tell him he's remembered. by people who didn't even know him. oh, and -" no, that's enough. saint peter nods, gravely, and stores my cloud somewhere beneath the flow of his robe. i hope he is, like a librarian, always as good as his word. i'd hate zac to think he'd been forgotten by The World. i'm turning to walk away and i hear my name being called. st peter is smiling plaintively... "ian.... come and visit again some time.... and bring some more of those...chocolate ball thingies.... yes?" i consider this. i don't really want to come back here for a while. "tell you what...why don't you visit me? i'll stick the kettle on and buy as many substandard cocoa-products as an angel could possibly eat" "weellll, i'm not really allowed to, but.... next friday?" "fine....oh and peter?" he smiles "SAINT peter, please. don't forget where you are" "sorry. i just wanted to say thank you. and, when you visit...." a raised eyebrow "come as the blonde" i try not to look at his expression as i grab the handrail, and, feeling strangely like david niven, place my foot on the escalator. above me, somewhere, i can hear the opening chords of "i believe" ian ----------------------------------------------- (a bit longer, that, than i meant it to be. for information on why this mail is called 'lime' or to learn more about zac foley in general, try typing his name and the name of the citrus fruit into google, and see what it comes up with) +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: Car Park pictures
by DansonHatcher＠aol.com 05 Jan '02

05 Jan '02

Winter. It's not all it's cracked up to be is it. When you're smimming about in lovely July or thereabouts Could've made a film about some days, about gigantic quiet of summer. Full of chrome and deniem, full of soft focus pastel shades, fast warm air all around the car. Overhead planes chugging across oceans between lonely clounds and we wear shorts and Tshirts with sandals on your feet. We're going places with hot light gliding though the screen and onto my fingers. Things happen and we did it all while the skys were clear. These days didn't end for months, just having short dark between to give a sense of time. It was a film I got processed the other day that sparked off this hate of winter. It was some pictures I took of some places in town at the end of August/begining of November and I had forgotten about that day. Pictures were taken over the period of a week or so while I was between jobs from up high on roofs and older car-parks so it was really warm and these fantastic 1960's concrete structures were so "wow" in amongst the 1840's wool mills, with the hills of north Leicestershire far in the distance. I got the film back and sat in the waiting room of Saint Margrets Bus station. This is a place that has featured rather highly in my life, meeting new friends here and adventures started. From the first picture I was taken back and suddenly I felt rather happy with Two Thousand and One, I will remember it for new friends made, realising I do fit in when the right people are found, lot's of traveling, Beautiful London, sinister, ownership of more cars than I have fingers, lost weekends in the west country, train tickets, and tying most of this together were Belle &Sebastian, It will be a year remembered for it's Summer. Sorry for this (over)nostalgic view of bits of last year and I hope all of you have as many good things to remember as I do. It just worries me slightly that 2002 will be without this. If you've read this FAr you're clearly a raving fruitcake. James. Ps, Ben! glad you two are having a good time. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: snow here,snow there and eeeeeeverywheeeeeeeereeeee!!!!
by zoe charaktinou 05 Jan '02

05 Jan '02

Hello there! I know that a lot of people have posted because it is snowing BUT when it's snowing like it's snowing now in Athens ,bloody Greece then IT'S THE WEIRDEST THING!!!So yes, Athens has got tons and tons of snow and I have never seen so much snow together ever in the whole 22 years that I've graced the world put together in Athens!I mean if somebody had told me that I would be stuck in my house due to snow a few ays ago I would've laughed.I am laughing now too, though, which is a good sign...Here snow has the effect that the sun has in cold countries.It makes people go out, smile and act childishly...People in Britain tell me that they don't go out that much because of the cold they experience almost all the time.Here it makes you go out but it's because it doesn't exist that much.I am always talking about Athens, mind you , because if you go to Vel-makia at the magoulakia-, par example or at the mountains-and we have a lot of them- or in other places in Greece anyway there is a LOT of snow...So yes don't take my runt 100%.I just have to say stuff in order to express my enthusiasm for the snow!!!I am going to go out and play with my mom-'cos all my friends don't live nearby and I have noone to play wiiiiiiiith!!!-and then I will make a snow man..yes...But I won't see a fox in the snow, that's for sure-huh!B&S content, see? But seriously now, it's been snowing here for more than 24 consecutive hours and yes that is a novelty for little Athens.My mom went out earlier today and she says that people are walking all over the place as there are almost no cars moving.It's mad!Mad I tell you!I'll go out and walk all over the place.Chaotic stuff. It's great.I am glad it did not snow like that on Thursday though because then I wouldn';t have gone to Kitscherella and I wouldn't have met a Dahling!!!Oh, yes...this Dahling is such a Dahling..mmm..yes...But that is another story... Me goes now.Me has to get one-use camera-no real one, sniffle,buy me one?YOU!Please?Me be nice little girl?-and shoot...photos...of the snow...yeapity. SNOW SNOW SNOW!!!! bye now there..wherever you are. Zoe the little white riding hood _________________________________________________________________ MSN Photos is the easiest way to share and print your photos: http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: I really enjoyed the concert, btw.:)
by figure2＠fsmail.net 04 Jan '02

04 Jan '02

Typing this and not sure where it's going. I would transfer to some more obviously productive mode were it not for the fact that I keep launching on ideas which fizzle out for lack-of-point and yet there must exist within these hopeless meanderings a thing of itself. One supposes, yet does not know, yet is familiar with this amalgam of mood and realisation. I think the prosaic term would be 'bored' but this is accurate only insofar as the similarity of feeling and result... a torpor. And I'd keep this little paragraph on the screen for later nuzzling and pruning except the computer makes such an incessant whine across such an unpleasant range of frequencies, highlighting how lacking in sensibility this machinery is, now it has inveigled my innermost stirrings towards communication. The routes I've been starting on are old ones, which used to give me pleasure. Music, say, and here on the cover of a magazine is a synth/sequencer/recording piece of software that can do all my teenage dreams for free, and it's great, except I've lost the desire. Same with architecture and visuals: everything I can see I can make into an aesthetic exercise/building parti/surrealist cartoon. Why bother applying effort? Work smarter, not harder... for what? Who are we trying to impress? And has experience in the working world not taught me that these 'work mantras' are in the service of sophisticated repetition, a kind of high-class switch-off to the possibilities of being alive on planet earth? This leads me to a conclusion. One that is familiar to humanity, if not yet to me, which is the concept of a threshold: an elastic, bouncy almost glass ceiling of a threshold, that needs either to be fatigued into infinite flexibility or burst through altogether. I want a higher level. In ward thirty, approaching 23 hundred hours. Reading in bed. Above the irregular snoring of my room-mate are voices in the corridor outside: the ones in white clothes I admire for their sane acceptance of duties, as they open card boxes and crackle pills from bubble-packs, clattering into plastic dishes in multiples to construct requisite milligrams of drug. Wash it down with 10cl of water, not from a cup or glass or mug, but a specially calibrated vessel so the whole thing seems more responsibly scientific. Heavy footsteps... the guy next door is pacing around as the 'sweet trolley' is wheeled roughly south-west in this self-closed diamond of a floor-plan: a cloister and, in the sun, a tranquil place where the soul is free, concentration possible and complexities unravelled. I'm closing the book and inserting home-made earplugs as an alarm sounds: another nutter to the fire-escape and if he or she... it was a she and went straight to high security jail in an ambulance-the rules-, the poor woman... battered and abused and hopeless and... not mad! Good gawd how smug people can get but it's their job. Room ten. Morning. The armchair is buff leather; the window reaches to eight inches from the floor, skirting-space occupied by a central heating radiator of the trendy, minimal kind. Window sash thrown open to 100ft of frosty driveway at the end of which is Loch Feochan, in the house where Campbell, Thane of Cawdor, was murdered in 1592. A wee blue dingy of a boat bobs on the surface, a seagull, just a common, ordinary seagull wheels around stage left to stage right and under the riplets a mass of water. Cars pass. I venture down to a capacious living room and for lack of better things read about theatrical productions and poems in the Times newspaper and charge a spicy bloody mary to room ten. Fireplace. The loch is still there. just the rush of afternoon air; a jetstream's wake on shores of my skies jokes on velveteen flies on a dusty pane so much air in my hands I was hoping to remember you sweetly but I wasn't prepared for this I find it magnificent to be upset and for life to take one by surprise... I don't mind the pain but I accept this is a bit out on a limb to those who crave comfort and familiarity. What we know explains what we have but, if we're alive what might just be possible? If one were to forget a moment about knowledge... Big mountains. These lumps of rock are very, very big. Gordon... off-topic as usual:) _______________________________________________________________________ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: postcard messages from CalifornIA
by Ben Apps 04 Jan '02

04 Jan '02

Hi Sinister, And a happy new year to all. I hope the first few days of your 2002 have been good. Mine have. Been grate! I flew over the pennines and Glasgow (could see Parkhead, Hampden and Ibrox all at the same time!!), and Loch Lomond and Mull and GREENLAND!! all caked in snow, all the while listening to Tigermilk. Eleven hours later I touched down in Los Angeles (LOS ANGELES !!) and after a couple more hours negotiating the lovely US immigration and customs officials was met by the truly Awesome Rachel Fruitloop and her friend Vicky. At first it was all pleasantries but a little awkwardness in finally meeting face to face with someone you've opened a bit of your heart up to via email and a couple of phone calls. But now, only what, 5 days later, I can't imagine never knowing her. But in 4 days I have to go home :( I'll leave Rachel to tell you more. She's a much better writer than me, as you all know. I just wanted to do my reporting back duty and thank everyone who wished me well. I don't think it could've turned out much better, and it's all down to Sinister, which is YOU!! Just in case it wasn't clear (put it down to his gallant modesty) Ken won the London bowling with that score of 157. So unless you did better Mr Gillanders, Chu's our champion, as if he wasn't already! take care Ben xxx _________________________________________________________________ MSN Photos is the easiest way to share and print your photos: http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: (gold-covered) tits and ass; bulgarian tex-mex
by stacey dahling 04 Jan '02

04 Jan '02

Okay. I promised myself I wouldnt do this again, post to sinister elaborate detail about a club experience, but it seems to be the time of year when resolutions are broken and I just cant help it. It was possibly the GREATEST CLUB EXPERIENCE EVER, thats why. AND it technically was a sinister meet-up. So theres context for ya. Content. Yeah. It all came about when lovely sinister listee ZOE contacted me to say shed be home for the holidays and we should meet up. Calls were made, and she suggested we go to Kitcherella, a special night dedicated to kitch of all sorts - kitch music, kitch decorations, kitch clothing. She said it began years ago in a small club and had presumably grown to massive proportions, warranting the occasional take-over of a huge schwanky club. She hadnt attended since the move, so told me she didnt know what to expect, but it should be fun. OKAY! Im always up for the possibility of fun. Oh yes. And KITCH! Hells yeah. Anyway.. I try to drag Joanna with me (not very difficult considering she likes to dance as much as I do) but she is actually ill. Poor dear. So at midnight I venture out alone to meet Zoe. I arrive early, and as I stand outside I see some absolutely gorgeous people enter the club. I see some old men drive up and throw the keys of their Mercedes to the doorman who runs out to look for a valet. I see people with GOLD HAIR and ripped stockings and ugly furs. Oooh! I knew it would be a fine evening already. Once inside, I was floored. The club was ENORMOUS, larger than any Id ever been in before. And there was a seemingly endless supply of beautiful thin girls in mesh gold dresses and gold foil wigs working at desks, bars, circulating the crowd, leading men in suits to reserved tables. It was like the Greek version of Studio 54, except not as many naked people. But just as much underwear. (Coincidentally (?) enough, it was called Club 22. Hmm.) Underwear hung from clotheslines strung up around the club, and by the end of the night it was being twirled over heads, slipped on over clothing, draped over faces oh yes. Zoe arrived dressed in a classic sleeveless long white shirt, with black paint-like splatters and a big belt and.. it was quite a fine eighties ensemble. Her friend Helen was dubbed Madonna for the evening. She looked fantastic. And the rest of the crowd - incredible. There were coon caps, argyle sweaters, neon floral prints, huge gold chains, wigs, sunglasses.. I cant even do justice to the amazing costumed kitchiness. I, on the other the hand, was dressed pretty conservatively in a little black dress and maroon Johnny-collar shirt/jacket thingie. Ah well. We clumped around, waiting for others in our party to arrive, staring with greedy eyes at all the beautiful people who entered, shaking our heads a little, anxious for some serious cheesy booty-shaking to begin. When we were finally all assembled, we headed to the dance floor and bopped around a bit. Then the lights dimmed and three screens came down from the ceiling and the opening of Dynasty was projected. Lordy. Everyone hooted and screamed in glee. Then the center screen lifted to reveal a man in an enormous golden afro, sitting in the center of a stage with a drink in hand, regarding one of the screens in studied interest. Everyone yelled and he got up, did a dramatic little turn and headed to the DJ booth, all decked out in gold and flanked by two beautiful girls scantily-clad in gold mesh and foil. Yay! Golden afro man was the DJ! He slammed his hands down like a conductor and the Bee Gees blared. Everyone immediately started to go crazy. It was fantastic! The Bee Gees were followed by other incredibly cheesy songs, including some Greek classics and, even worse, Greek covers of American cheese. My favorite was a Greek cover of a Grease song. Oh yes. After about five songs or so, the lights dimmed again, another cheesy video clip was projected on the two screens, and then the stage was lit to reveal seven scantily clad golden girls with gold foil pom poms, who did a choreographed dance to some cheery song. It was so great! Stage shows! There were a few more interspersed throughout the evening, all hilariously fantastic. Needless to say, we danced our asses off. Until 4:30 a.m. We could have lasted longer, I think, but Zoe had a paper to write. She did leave with a souvenir of the evening - a bra flung in our direction by a crazed dancer that exactly matched her eighties paint-splattered shirt! Incredible! I just could not get over the sheer quantity - and quality - of fine-looking people. It seemed like everyone who was anyone was there. Where do they all hide in the daytime, I wondered. In fact, the biggest star of the moment in Greece - the winner of Big Brother, Greeces first experiment in reality television that was an amazing success - was on the guest list and rumoured to be coming, but he never did appear. Pity, really. Ha! It really doesnt sound as exciting when translated to paper, does it? Ah well. Zoe was lovely, of course, as were her friends, and we had a great time dancing. Again, I was able to do the Molly Ringwald and it was cooooool. And I threw in some Ally Sheedy as well, being a special occasion and all. After I left Zoe, I took a cab home and had a lovely conversation with the driver, speaking perfect Greek. Why do I find myself suddenly able to converse in Greek only after being awake for more than 15 hours or drunk? We discussed the usual topics - where I was from, what Im doing here, why I like it, whether Im looking for a Greek husband, American capitalistic imperialism. And he didnt even try to rip me off! I even paid in Euros, how exciting! And I just woke up at 5 p.m. and listened to Queens Bohemian Rhapsody. Good fucking song. Its kinda sad. I almost cried. Holy Moses, its snowing outside. Coming down like a blizzard. My lord. Perfect time to defrost the fridge, actually. Can put the food outside. Mmm. By the way, my first official Big Decision of 2002, was to venture, alone, to BULGARIA. Yes, I am clearly insane. Even more so when you hear my other option - taking a cheap (76 Euros/$70) flight to London to stay with friends for a week and go bowling with Ken. Hmm. That or return to the Eastern European country where I was almost kidnapped and married off to Romanian prisoners five years ago? And I chose the latter option? What the fuck, eh? Well, it all came down to money, really. First of all, the whole reason I must make such a decision is because I must leave the country by Jan. 23 - I only have a three-month visa, and if I dont leave the country every three months I run the risk of being deported; backwards, eh? So if I go to Bulgaria, which would be cheaper to begin with, I can write travel stories, which pays for expenses and perhaps more. In fact, I already have one assignment lined up which would cover expenses. And considering how desperately poor I am, there really was no other choice. Even though I am a bit.. um.. frightened. Eeps! If you dont hear from me in a week and half, send out the rescue mission please. Im trying to make the most of it, though. It will be an adventure of gigantic proportions, I tell myself. And I will undoubtedly return with great stories. Already my plan is to write about the Mexican restaurant phenomenon in Sofia. Hehehe. Last time I went, I discovered Eddys Tex-Mex Diner, owned by Mafioso Eddy, who had spent several years in Las Vegas and came out of the back room dressed entirely in black leather to have a shot of whiskey with us. According to my sources in Sofia (ha! I actually have a source in Sofia!) Eddy is rumoured to be doing time in a Nevada prison for drug trafficking charges or something (we suspected the Mexican imports were not limited to food ingredients alone). But, fingers crossed, I really hope to run into him again and do a proper interview. Ok thats enough of that then. Hope yall are having a peachy keen 2002 so far. Im gonna go dance in the snow-covered streets now. Eat your heart out, New Englanders! MWAH! ~dahling ps: i feel like kind of an ass posting such dribble after amys lovely post but..um..well..yeah. i guess im an ass. Hmm. _________________________________________________________________ Send and receive Hotmail on your mobile device: http://mobile.msn.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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Re: Sinister: New things on Banchory
by Paul Arathoon 04 Jan '02

04 Jan '02

Wow..Everett True. i remember him from the Good Old Days where the Melody Maker was king despite the ink that came off in your hands. It had a great system for reviewing albums. One symbol for "bloody Essential", another for "recommended" and that was it. I could never make head nor tail of albums without these symbols because the reviews were so odd and usually not about the albums itself at all. In fact even some albums with the aforesaid symbols had reviews that slagged them off Everett was good mates with Kurt and the MM christmas specials were always uber-cool. he once did a review of Tad where the first letter of each paragraph created the legend "JAMES DEAN (or someones name anyway) IS A C***)" And the interviews were always interesting. And it was all good. and then all the good journos left. Mr True, Kulkarni, and the others whose names I can't remember. Now look at it. MM was reduced to being Smash Hits but with Slipknot on the cover and had to give away shit posters and stickers to try and stop the slippage of readers. it failed and it died. and the NME went downhill fast with little competition on the 25th floor of IPC towers. basically- if E. True and Mr Gullick are behind Careless Talk cost Lives, you should buy it. hope you all had good new years paul >From: "Neil Robertson" <neil(a)banchory.net> >Reply-To: "Neil Robertson" <neil(a)banchory.net> >To: "sinister" <sinister(a)missprint.org> >Subject: Sinister: New things on Banchory >Date: Fri, 4 Jan 2002 15:37:37 -0000 > >For anyone short of a bit of reading matter, www.banchory.net is selling >copies of the new music magazine "Careless Talk Costs Lives". >The magazine, created by former Melody Maker journo Everett True and top >photographer Steve Gullick, is intended as a bit of an alternative to, >ahem, >other current music publications. The first issue contains Stuart Murdoch's >Brazilian Tour Diary, as well as the biggest Mogwai interview ever >conducted, pieces with Calvin Johnson, Le Tigre, Electralane and literally >hundreds of reviews of the sort of shit yous lot like to listen to. > >It's under "Fancy Goods" in the B&S Merch section. > >Enjoy. > >Neil > >+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ > +---+ 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 +-+ > +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ >+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ _________________________________________________________________ Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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