November 2002 - Sinister

Sinister: Sigur Ros
by Javier Garcia 30 Nov '02

30 Nov '02

Hi dear Sinisters, I just wanted to make a short post. I agree with Nathan: Sigur Ros is my last musical discovery at the moment. I was introduced to them by Gummi, a nice icelandic sinister. They really rock, theis sound is special, different, ... you have to listen to them, I am amazed by their sound, and words can hardly explain the feelings I get when I listen to that marvellous music. By the way, they have recently released an album named ( ), with no lyrics in it, as long as the singer uses his voice as another instrument. Great, none of you should miss it! Well, I think I'll go now and take a walk in the park (Parque de Maria Luisa, have you heard of?). The sun is shining, it's a beautiful day, 20 degrees in Sevilla, and I don't want to spend it in front of the screen. Have a nice day and enjoy your weekend. Yeah, yeah, of course...I'll take my Discman and listen to Sigur Ros ;-) Best wishes!! //Javier _________________________________________________________________ MSN Fotos: la forma más fácil de compartir e imprimir fotos. http://photos.msn.es/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: pish
by Christopher Johnson 30 Nov '02

30 Nov '02

i was never much part of the list but im leaving and wanting to go controversially: Belle and sebastian have become utter shite. i just read the q&a section on the web and i dont remember stuart ever being so twee and self absorbed. i dont remeber sarah ever talking before and now i realise how great that was! so many people have labelled them twee theyve actually become it. I will not be attending their jolly christmas party. nor will i listen to their pretty little christmas peel set. what a waste. i wish theyd split before this ever happened. then they could have released 'lord anthony' post humously and been legendary. now theyll be a wash out that im afraid i might end up embarrased to have ever listened to. Stuart said he got bored of morrissey after viva hate. well i got bored of him just there. at least morrissey observes a considered silence and spares us all from him being a bloody pansy. farewell. _________________________________________________________________ Add photos to your e-mail with MSN 8. Get 2 months FREE*. http://join.msn.com/?page=features/featuredemail +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Baby you can drive my car
by elenita 99 29 Nov '02

29 Nov '02

Hello lovelies, The very wise Mark C. wrote about giving blood saying it was a good thing to do. I do agree on this. Although last time I tried to give blood it ended up in a disaster (sensitive people skip this bit). I went to London centre, in a decided mood (doing a good thing blabla). First of all they took a little sample from my finger to test it for iron and other stuff. Apparently it was not really good, as the guy asked me if I was a veggie. So I said no (but my flatmates are, does it count?). In the end the guy said it was ok so I went next door and laid down on a bed-type thing. The nurse tried to find a vein in my left arm and gave up after three attempts, living my arm with a bruise the size of an egg and a big plaster. Next try on the right arm, after two attempts she managed to get the needle through. After 10 minutes of waiting for the bag to fill up, she told me she was sorry but my blood wasn't going down quick enough so it would be no good. So I left there with a big wrapped plaster on each arm (in the middle of July, only wearing a girlie top with no sleeves, obviously), and Mrs Trousers and Captain Robbo can confirm I looked like a drug addict who shot herself the wrong way. But yes, giving your blood is good, if your veins are better and bigger than mine then do it. I turned 23 last week. I had a big party in a bar on the right day, and it was fun and I ended up a bit drunk and everybody was happy and dancing and all. Then on Saturday some of my friends organised a "surprise birthday thing", meaning I had to be at home all ready and dressed up for 7 and wait for someone to pick me up. Scary and excited. The big surprise was that my best friend, who lives in Germany and has been telling me for a month that she couldn't be there, was sitting at the restaurant table when I came in. So I looked like an idiot for 5 minutes saying "you stupid woman I can't believe you did this I can' believe it" but I was good ad didn't cry. So it was a good birthday, and I don't really feel old or anything so that's good. I am starting to get excited about Xmas; well about Xmas shopping more exactly. I shouldn't spend lots of money but I have decided to do so anyway. I like buying presents for people, it's fun. And also I am going skiing for New Year and that is also very exciting. And I should come to London in January, more excitment. Next weeks should be very exciting! OK I'll stop being excited and go back to work. Have a lovely weekend all of you Elenaxx _________________________________________________________________ Protect your PC - get McAfee.com VirusScan Online http://clinic.mcafee.com/clinic/ibuy/campaign.asp?cid=3963 +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Such a shame that I'm no longer young and carefree...
by Belle The Confused Dog 29 Nov '02

29 Nov '02

The girl tells me it almost Christmas. I?m quite happy about that because last Christmas I got a bone and then a few days later it was my birthday and I got a football and then a few days later I burst the football and I was able to tear it to pieces for the rest of the year. It?s quite amazing how many pieces I tore it into would you believe me? 346! The girl says she felt like she had to clear up a million pieces but she does exaggerate sometimes! The girl hid the rest of my football in a big black bag and I haven?t been able to find it since. I really hope that my birthday is near to Christmas again this year because I really miss my football! Excuse me one moment that bird is squawking again? Sorry about that but I?ve just about had it up to here with that bird! Since it has found out about the band that I got my name from it starts sing as soon as the girl puts on some music by them just try to impress her. Don?t think it has worked though she still hasn?t started to call it Sebastian. Anyway back to Birthdays? I think it must be almost my birthday because a little while ago the girl said: ?you are almost two Belle it is time you started to earn your keep? I suggested I could be a model. She seemed to think that this wasn?t a bad idea until I came in from the garden one day after rolling around in the mud. She said ?I don?t think models ever look quite that messy Belle? I went off the idea of becoming a model very quickly after that because rolling around in the mud had been great fun. Then she suggested that I become a writer. Well not exactly suggested more nagged me senseless until I wrote something. I did write something and she put it on a website, which apparently has nothing to do with the spider that can walk up walls, but is something a bit like emails so you can write to lots of people at once. I wrote a few stories: http://www.friendsoftheheroes.co.uk The girl says they are still there somewhere now, but hidden away a bit. Her and the girl who brought the chocolates and some other people have been writing things every week. The girl gets quite excited about it. Maybe even more excited than she did at Christmas when she woke me up TOO early. When I ask her why she keeps writing every week she looks a bit puzzled then seems to forget my question before getting excited again. I should go before the girl catches me writing or she will be nagging me to write for that website again. If I was you I would keep out of her way too. She is always looking for people to write things or to draw things or to photograph things. Maybe that bird is lucky that he isn?t called Sebastian after all otherwise I?m sure she would nag him to write! Love and Kisses Belle x ********** "good grief belle! Even your tongue has sand on it" I could tell she was impressed with my disguise. http://www.friendsoftheheroes.co.uk *********** _________________________________________________________________ Protect your PC - get McAfee.com VirusScan Online http://clinic.mcafee.com/clinic/ibuy/campaign.asp?cid=3963 +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: The SSSS...
by Jay Eckard 29 Nov '02

29 Nov '02

Evenin' there, Sinifolks. As I sit here digesting my few meagre scraps of turkey -- there were issues, shall we say, in my getting to the family dinner -- I ruminate. I think to myself, how can I squeeze the most enjoyment of the season? For it is now the Christmas season, officially, as all of us in retail shake our heads and mutter curses to the backs of the slack-jawed customers of the world. I've had ideas, of course. But putting a party hat on Murphy the Wonder Cat and sharing a bottle of champagne with him ended, as they say, in sadness. Murphy, it seems, is a mean drunk. I have the clawmarks to prove it. My other idea has been greeted with at best laxidasical laconicity. Llew all but sneered. Jayward was unmoved. Therefore I bring it to you. Yep. I think there should be a Sinister Southern Seasonal Soiree. Our own little picnic indeed.* I'm more than willing to be the picnic mummy (would that be Maw in these parts?). Anyone who is interested can contact me. So can anyone interested in mocking me. I crave attention. I'd suggest the little burg of Chapel Hill in NC because a) I live there b) Aruni lives close by c) It seems to be the most central point from Georgia to DC and d) Ms Llaura Llew would probably be peeved if I pimped out her household without asking first. So yeah, the point: Festivity: yea or nay? *And oh yeah, babies: There will be sexuality cups. (www.joannou.net/petullant/2002_11.html) -- "The Posby falls into a Trance In which it does a little Dance." Edward Gorey _________________________________________________________________ Tired of spam? Get advanced junk mail protection with MSN 8. http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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'm feeling so blue, cos I'm head over heels in love with you
by Joanne Hill 28 Nov '02

28 Nov '02

I've not had any Sinister posts all day so I thought I'd write one myself. This evening I went with my two new friends from Sussex uni to the Silver Dollar, its a really nice little bar near uni. It looks a complete dive from the outside and we never thought we'd go there cos it looks so dodge and is next door to a hotel that looks like it hires out rooms by the hour...but a month ago, we were told to go on a Wednesday because its bluegrass night and is very good, so we went along and have been there every week since, me and Carrie, she is nice, we get along well in one of those recently-met-but-I-think-we-might-end-up-really-good-mates kind of ways. I'm glad because it means we never run out of things to say, which is often a problem with people you don't know and don't really want to know either. We've started to recognise and sing along to a few of the songs on bluegrass night. Tom thinks that is really sad and laughed at us. Tonight he came along too, because we decided he needed a night out. I had thought it would be a good idea, but he put a dampner on things, because he started to laugh at me for liking pork, sun dried tomato, basil and parmesan sausages from Sainburys, and I got in a mood, he's always criticising something. And he just sat there, not talking, and my plan to get him to snap out of whatever is his problem didn't work. Tom is difficult sometimes, a lot of the time, and it can affect others. He enjoys his depressiveness. I also think he is being stupid at the moment because he wants to go home to England at Xmas and not come back, and I think thats a big mistake, just giving up this chance of living somewhere new for a year. Theres only five months left anyway, and Toronto is cooler than anywere I've been to in Britain. So I sat in silence ignoring Tom and watched the guitarist who looked like his heart wasn't in it tonight. He only sang one song and he sounded as bored/tired/unhappy as he looked. But the crowd didn't mind. They had a new girl bassist to look at, and some weird bloke dancing, he looked like he was on speed cos he kept rubbing and scratching his head as he was bopping along. Joanne _________________________________________________________________ MSN 8 helps eliminate e-mail viruses. Get 2 months FREE*. http://join.msn.com/?page=features/virus +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: finding new ways of doing better than my worst
by rrrrobyn 26 Nov '02

26 Nov '02

oh, sinister... le sigh. there are shelves and shelves and shelves of books on technology in the library. biotechnology. computer technology. history of technology. it's like having a category for, like, life - everything eventually just falls into it. well, it all will one day. mwah ha. ha. anyway, several of these books are now staring their spines at me from across the room, stacked up in the way daunting things tend to be. earlier i felt that i'd accomplished something today simply by finding these books and bringing them home, but then realized that i'd actually have to *read* these books. both an exciting and sigh-inducing prospect. my roommates are watching that ya-ya sisterhood movie (fuck the whole title, yo, knives, etc.). i am having nothing to do with that. i used to enjoy a good schlock-fest, but now, and i fully blame school for this, when i watch bad hollywood romantic-drama-comedies (dramadies, i've heard them called, but this reminds me of dromedaries. and then i've got, like, pictures of sandra bullock and hugh grant on a small camel in my head (in my head!) and that just ain't right. (and seriously, i'm both relieved and horrified that some genius finally put those two together in a movie. the queen and king of romantic comedy! you'll excuse me while i leave the theatre during the trailer.)) right, so when i watch such movies now, well, it's awful. i didn't even enjoy 'sweet home alabama' a while back - it was tortuous (yet i stayed? robyn shakes her head). this all calls into question my ability to enjoy any mainstream hollywood schlock! it used to be my out! my sunday matinee unwinding, my brain-numbing 90 minute vacation from life. yet now it only serves to take me further in! when i only want out of my brain for a while. related to all this is that i saw 'punch drunk love' last week. and the people ('critics') who are calling this film a romantic comedy clearly have no understanding of definitions of terms. we all *know* what 'romantic comedy' means (see bullock/grant ref above), and, while clearly playing on this term, 'punch drunk love' is not a 'romantic comendy', not even in the most self-reflexive of senses. in fact, i love it for its lack of self-reflexiveness, how it actually goes beyond 'subverting expectations' to making the viewer (okay, me) nervous and overwhelmed b/c there are no expectations to subvert even though i really wanted them, were i to have them, to be subverted. subvert! please! but noooo, i just sat there with my eyes wide and my heart kickin' it, saying 'what?! how?!' it freaked me out. but, yes, of course, in a good way. freaky freaky movie. if i were to make movies they would probably be like that. horror movies that no one realizes are horror movies until after they're over. it's, like, the horrodramady. get ready 21st century - a new kind of horror has hit the block and it's got hilarious miscommunication and heart-felt kissing in it! er. also, i made some really good applesauce the other day (the secret is: cloves). i think it calmed me down. and also alleviated the food-wasting guilt that was coming on every time i opened the fridge to see those neglected apples i'd bought oh so long ago. aw, crap, you didn't really need to know about the applesauce, did you? i got my student loan though, so i'm going out this week to stock my empty cupboards. but i'm sure i'll buy apples again, thinking that they're cheap and good for you, and then this cycle of guilt will replay itself. ah ha, but not if i make applesauce right away! i *can* solve my own problems, after all... i'm so glad sinister exists. and i'm not just saying that b/c there's a christmas present in it for me. :) i'm saying that b/c maybe i'm thinking too much. about thinking. about things. y'think? hrm and nrr and other sounds. robyn ===== I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything. ~Steven Wright ~~~ Robyn Fadden rfadden(a)yahoo.com Montreal, QC __________________________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail Plus - Powerful. Affordable. Sign up now. http://mailplus.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: Deadline for Christmas Exchange
by Madeleine McNeil 25 Nov '02

25 Nov '02

My doves, I am here in my elfin capacity to remind you all that today is the last day for signing up for the Sinister Christmas Gift Exchange. You can do this by sending your name your postal address the number of people you want to send gifts to any special preference you have, for example, if you only want to send within your country. Note: Please stop asking to be matched with rich people. Any rich people on the list have already been found and captured by the Llew and myself. Send these details to lleweth(a)hotmail.com. We're going to have to be rather strict with the deadline, I'm afraid. I have already pulled my hair into a tight chignon and put on my secretary glasses, just to suit the mood of strict but innuendo laden administrative type. We aim to have all the matching done by Wednesday, as then Llew is off to chase more boys and dip them in vats of melted Dairy Milk and I shall return to doing whatever I normally do. I'll be the one procrastinating and chain smoking in the corner, then. Many thanks to Dappers for her post about the poetry parrot (and her kind words about my underwear). REMEMBER, IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO THE GIFT EXCHANGE YOU MUST DO IT TODAY OR MISS OUT FOREVER (or until we do it all again next year). Love Madeleine _________________________________________________________________ Help STOP SPAM with the new MSN 8 and get 2 months FREE* http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: if you wanna have your cake and eat it, too, and if you wanna have other people watch you while you eat it, go ahead.
by dagnyrae 24 Nov '02

24 Nov '02

some things first: * there is a girl at the paper named scarlett herring.i find great joy in this. * someone asked about love, and what it is. mentioned high fidelity and bagged on bon jovi. i'd like to think love is a mix of what we are and what we'd like to be, what we like and what we are like. i like bright eyes. many people find bright eyes similar to the bleating of goats or other similar animals. and if i admit i like hanson as well. well. all hell might break loose. maybe this is why i have such trouble with you lot of boys and love. my unsolicited: if you stop liking someone because of his or her tastes, there's probably some other undefined reason. it wasn't meant to be. you might be shallow, but i don't think less of you for it. every rose has its thorn. * most important of these small notations: i heard from my friend bron today. some of you know her, i think. she is home. and i am happy about that. *** lately i have found myself listening to a lot of the exact same music i listened to at this time last year, though then it was for the first time, and now it is like revisiting. or trying to recapture. something like that. at any rate, i've drug out the superchunk again, and am waiting for superchunky days of snow and late century dreams, followed with i love my car and a little dose of now it's overhead. strange, the things i attach to music. i was so happy then. this time, i am still happy. i think. in a different way, to be sure, and perhaps not a better one. but who am i to rate the quality of happiness? isn't happiness just happiness all the time? does it come in different kinds and colors? should i think of it like little jolly ranchers, individually wrapped but all in the same candy dish? when the peach-flavored run out, the other flavors will do almost as well. *** my purse got stolen last night. i went to a coffee shop at home (for i was home for the weekend), and i put my glorious blue suede plus fur collar coat on a chair behind me and my bag on the seat of the chair. i was talking to this craggy older guy named mark. turns out he was to be the first person i've met yet who has the same disease as i. he held his hand out next to mine and we compared the crippling, smiling and laughing and knowing that life was just as good for us as anyone else. and i saw a kid sitting in the chair with my coat. when he got up i looked for my bag, and it was gone. generally, i'd expect myself to fall to more pieces than i did. police were called. mark and another coffee shop patron, a wonderful suburban-father-type, jumped up and ran outside to, i assume, hunt down the thief john wayne-style, retrieve my bag and save the poor little lady. turns out the thief's friend was the man sitting with my coat, and, after a bit of me saying, "i want my bag back NOW, fucker," the thief came back and returned my bag with everything in it except my cigarettes. o to have lost my nat sherman mints! the funny thing was, sitting on the corner of the street in a mini-skirt and fur, digging through old grocery receipts and check stubs, taking out my credit cards and compact and tubes of lipstick, license and magic marker and lighter from korea and mobile, i thought suddenly that everything i was at that moment was in that bag. and that everything i ever really was would be in that bag, five rectangles of plastic and a phone, all those receipts for food and cigarettes and whatever bank statements i had in there. a pen. a bunch of makeup. keys. in there: a girl, with an affinity for writing in red ink and a shitload of debt. if i lost everything last night, i would have. i would have turned over my identity, my money, my connection to everyone, my way around town and home. all those numbers and keys -- we are all that. strip us of it, and what we are then is just another naked person, without a name or number, some sort of something. without my bag i would just be a girl in a mini-skirt and unfortunate fur, holding out her hand to compare crippling with the next nameless man next to her. thank goodness i got it back. what would i do if i lost myself? where would i be? cue the pixies: thank fuck this thanksgiving if you know where you are, and who, and are happy. *rae __________________________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail Plus � Powerful. Affordable. Sign up now. http://mailplus.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: sad eyed lady of the lowlands
by andrew thorpe 24 Nov '02

24 Nov '02

Paint takes an awfully long time to dry, and isnt that fun to watch, so while it does I thought Id take this opportunity to write to you. How are you this autumn morning? I am in good spirits. I woke up this morning and leaped from my bed, to my surprise, with an eagerness I havent felt for a long while and at a shockingly early time. 10 oclock may not sound like a time that would prompt phases such as the early bird catches the worm! from passers by with little else to do but quote useless axioms, but for me, on a Saturday morning it is quite unbelievable that Id be in any state other then slumber. For the past couple of months Ive been finding it very hard to sleep, even more so then usual. Recently the only way Ive manage to break down the barrier of my endless consciousness is to turn to a rather vulgar stereotype. However according to this computer it was 11:02 when I started writing. Normally Im still twisted inside my sweat soaked bed sheets - not up, out of bed, fully dressed, with caffeine pumping through my veins half way through an essay. Ok, thats not entirely true my essay only measures three paragraphs, but three great paragraphs! Sentence after sentence that have an almost poetic beauty, a fine, superb introduction, the reader is instantly hooked, their attention is fixed, you want to find out more. No! You need to find out more (which is quite an amazing feat as the essay is comparing the work of the Italian Expressionist Painter and Sculptor Amedeo Modigliani (who according to microsoft word doesnt exist, seeing as how his name is now adored with a red squiggly line) (1884-1920) and Louis Corinth, who so far I know little of, apart from that hes painted a very nice postcard which has been stuck to my bedroom wall for many years, although I hope by the time I reach the end of the essay that will have changed). Yet still it is only an introduction. It seems that there is only 626 words inside of me that can say about Modigliani and Corinth, that I have already exhausted all possibly avenues of interest within three paragraphs, that I have run out of ideas, out of ink. I hate writing, and yes Im aware of the irony saying that through a letter! I suppose I just hate art history, or contextual studies as my college prefers to call it, dont ask me why. True, it does have its advantages, I once impressed a girl by telling her about the effect Ancient Greek sculpture has had on modern society, that the reason we all strive, some more actively and successfully then others, to this one shape, to this one ideal can be traced directly back to Ancient Greek sculpture. But I dont think it really impressed her all that much, and its far more possible that my art history lecturer was talking a load bollocks and consequently I was to her, and she knew it. But even though I have only managed a few paragraphs I suppose its better then being at collage, where each and every day seems to be a plaster cast of the one before. Or at least it always feels like it in the morning. I arrive in to collage at half eight, stroll through corridors, past the library and down to the cafeteria, where I purchase a disgustingly tasting and priced coffee for half an hour until I climb the cold stone staircase to the studio, where I wait to be patronised and bored till five oclock, the only variety seem to be in which book I pick up from my bedroom floor to gulp down with my coffee. Unfortunately over the past two months there was been an unpleasant addition to this harmless routine. Each morning my bitter coffee is interrupted by the banal chatter of a history student. The girl in question is a greasy Goth that as kind friend pointed out, most likely has a crush on me. But I suspect the only reason she comes up to my table in the morning, interrupting me from my cup of coffee and book, is that she thinks Im cool whatever that is. I think she like the fact that Ive read Russian literature, that Im an art student, that I have long hair (well long for a boy) wear clothes which differ from the almost regulation Reebok and Nike outfits of the collage, listen to bands which she has never heard of, can often appear be having vicious arguments about Marxism, globalisation, and other things which she recognises the words of yet knows little about, and even for my almost constant sarcasm. Maybe its because I cant take a compliment, or that I at least dont know how to react to one, but she really annoys me, especially when I start to think about it. She ambushed me again on Friday, while I was having my lunch, she talked a lot, I didnt, like most of the conversations Im unfortunate enough to have with her, and then she fixed me with a quizzical stare and asked me if I was gay. I havent laughed so long and hard in a very long time. She couldnt see what was so funny though. From what I remember, I dont think I actually answered her, but I think she got my message. Thinking about it again, Im tempted to say yes. Im glad I didnt give her a proper answer, that I remained ambiguous. I can see why she might think such a thing; I suppose to certain people I could appear to have an effeminate manner. Im not a lad, and I hope I never become one. I like music, I like poetry, I like art! I can some times come across as condescending - as bitchy. I have long hair, which my college buddy jokes that it makes me look like a girl, and she knows (a mistake on my part, forgetting to think before I open my mouth) Ive just come out of a long relationship that I refuse to talk about, and is complicated, which she will no doubt hear as complicated. I find it offensive though that someones sexuality, someones identity can be determined from a minor list of superficial details. But the reason I dont mind her thinking Im gay, is not because she might now leave me alone (although I cant deny it is an advantage, but I hope I would never do something so vulgar on purpose) or that I am secretly - it is because Im not gay, it is because Im straight. If she believes Im something Im not, if she thinks this, if she knows this then she doesnt know me. She will then, and presumably the rest of the college in a few days time, only know a lie, like or hate a lie, but not me. I will merely turn into a figment of her imagination. Goodness, this is becoming very self-indulgent and absurd. Maybe its the Bob Dylan Im listening to, but I doubt it. Dont you think Just Like A Women, and Sad Eyed Lady OF The Lowlands are just simply beautiful songs? Although I must admit that at 11.20 mins Sad Eyed Lady does get a bit a repetitive, but it is still wonderful. Listening to songs like that makes me want to be able to play the guitar even more, its like this tremendous itch I want to, no, need to scratch but cant. Ive been listening to Blonde on Blonde quite a lot recently; I even slipped a quick sketch of the record sleeve into one of my sketchbooks. Id gambled on the top honcho of the department having good taste, like stereotypical art lovers should, and hed be less harsh to one of his own kind, but if he did recognise it (as my parents both did) he didnt show it (as he didnt make fun of me for it as my parents both did). It was part of a last ditch attempt to bulk up my portfolio for Assessment, if any scrap of paper with the slightest scrawl on it came within my eyesight I stuck it in. Assessment was last week, it last all week long everyone is interviewed, our work is reviewed, were marked, and if it isnt all there, or if it isnt good enough youre out. My interview was at 1.00 p.m. on Friday, it was late in the week as we were in alphabetical order, for the first time in my life Id been truly thankful my surname is Thorpe. All week Ive been working my balls off, trying to get everything done, trying to get it good enough. But Id been working for the past 3 months, since college started, trying to do this, and I knew I couldnt turn everything around in a week, but I kept on trying to. By 1.00 I hadnt finished everything. I had the interview; Im not sure how it went though. I hadnt had time to arrange any of my work in any sort of order, but it seem that must of my drawing and painting work was at the top of my portfolio (there are four sections drawing + painting, ideas, 3D, and another which is sort of like textiles but isnt). They were very complimentary of my drawing and painting, especially my life studies. But I never know who to take compliments, from anyone, I never know who to respond, and I never know how sincere they are being, as they never seem to be sincere at all. I noticed though they, my lecturers, said less the further we got through my portfolio, I hoped it didnt mean anything. They then started to ask me questions, about my work, which is quite easy to comment on (there is only one way to comment on it after all), and well art in general. I have lots of ideas, lots of opinions, but when I speak, especially in situations like this I suddenly have no opinions, and certainly no conviction. Once I got started, it was ok. I was standing up, they were all sitting down, which was quite weird, Im sure all the other students had a chair. I considered sitting on the floor but I thought it wouldnt make the right impression. The only real problem came when Id got have way though my answer and realised Id only heard half the question. I was talking about contemporary artists at one point, only to realise that both artist I had started to talk about were dead. Anyway I got through, everyone got through. Sometimes I wonder why I worry so. Well I reckon the paint will be dry by now. Cheerio _________________________________________________________________ Protect your PC - get McAfee.com VirusScan Online http://clinic.mcafee.com/clinic/ibuy/campaign.asp?cid=3963 +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. 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