March 2002 - Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: The rings of Saturn and other celestial thingies
by sgazzetti 11 Mar '02

11 Mar '02

Hello, all you Sinister and yet somehow dextrous people-- I'm not about to leave for work, so I won't have to make this short. My friend Peri is not on this list but should be. I'll put her in the nursery soon, but pending that, I can tell lies about her. Peri lives in a basement flat here in Nova Gorica, and she has a garden she uses for lying in when the sun shines. Sunday the sun is beaming out of a deep blue sky and spring is on its sprockets. Slavic proto-crocuses are popping out of the ground everywhere with such speed that you really cant go around unshod, and from my flat on the fourth floor I can see all my neighbors daffodils daffodiling madly out of their window boxes. My window boxes contain nothing more lush than empty Lako cans, but I am planning to sow them with great green fields of cilantro. About the time that I am doing my regular Sunday errand, going to the hipermercato to verify that there is not now nor will there ever be again any coconut milk, Peri is reading a text message on her phone and gnashing her teeth and kicking her curvy brown naugahyde sofa and dashing her phone into billions of shiny Finnish shards. The text message reads: I LOVE YOU and it comes from someone who patently DOES NOT. In the middle of a hot flat part of Argentina this Monday morning there is a beautiful red-haired girl, woman, really, who is seven hours behind me and so its only still early there as I write this but she is going to wake up soon and move from the big bed to the desk at the foot of it and check her email. And she is going to read something that will make her cry almost certainly and pound on the keyboard in grief and relief and maybe rend her raiment if any and rub ashes into her lovely red hair (which is dyed, actually). And thinking about that message, lurking there in her inbox waiting to pounce, makes me feel slightly ill, as though I had mailed her some anthrax (the spores, not the band). But also slightly better. I liked Sinister Digest #777 very much, very much indeed. Thanks to everyone who contributed to making #777 so very nice. Fernandos post made me think about some things, like stars and how bright they are when you live in a dark place, like that flat part of Argentina was. There was plenty to make my existence there less than ideal, like the insect population for one, and letting the red-haired girl talk me out of going to Sao Paulo and Rio in October, but the stars were always amazing and made me pretty happy, although sometimes I worried that I would get a starburn from them because they were so brilliant and huge over my head. I wish I could I could buy Fernando a powerful telescope so that he could write a post describing the rings of Saturn for us all. And just yesterday, as I was watching the daffodils do what they do in all my neighbors windowboxes, the most beautiful girl came out onto her terrace into the sun, off there to the left, a bit far away, really, across the green space, and I noticed that she didnt have any curtains in the windows, not even decadent yet rather boring floor-length brown velvet curtains, or any Gustav Klimt prints on the walls or anything else; her flat looked like a tautologous hollow cavity and I was wondering if she had just moved into the place, and I wished that I could find a way to offer to help her unpack and put up her curtains, which I have never actually done but I am sure I would be really good at. It occurred to me that all of us should have our telephone numbers painted in huge numbers on the outsides of our flats, so that if you saw someone interesting you could phone them, rather than having to resort to smoke signals (hazardous) or stalking (time-consuming). The blocks of flats across the way from me are full of people with lives and plants and ice-blue television screens and drying laundry. It is like watching a gigantic ant farm, and I am an ant on the opposite side, but no one ever watches me the way I was watching this cute girl in her black tank-top that in the springtime revealed her navel, whose existence I was sure of, but couldnt actually observe at such a distance, like the rings of Saturn. Fernando should lend me his binoculars. On the thread of getting parcels in the post, I agree completely with what Liz Daplyn et alia say about this thrill. But if you are trying to double your summer vacation by staying up all night, and if by chance you are, oh, I dont know, OUT OF YOUR BOX when you order things, the thrill is increased one-billion-fold, because then you arent even expecting a package and so when it arrives it feels as if you have some rich and eccentric auntie you never knew about but who knows all about you and is sending you perfect gifts. This is how I came to own a Belle & Sebastian tea towel. I think. I am not advocating substance abuse (as I usually do), but merely pointing out that sometimes dulling the old critical faculties as LD put it can have its unforeseen benefits. Then again, it can make one lose ones brand-new black v-neck in a bar one shouldnt really have been in in the first place. If only I had purchased that v-neck via mail-order, I could be Savoring The Rich Irony right now. Since I have neglected to pay the bill, the council have shut off the poetry in my flat. There was a problem with my pay processing for a time there, which was really stressing me out, along with the deportation threat and everything else, mostly related to girls or lack of them. Now that the sun is here and other things are resolving themselves I am better, and not nearly so misanthropic as my last, Zamfir-damning, post would lead one to believe. And my bank account shows a recent deposit so I can now pay my bills, which is a good thing since I was afraid they were going to shut off the gravity next, and I wouldn't want to wake up on the ceiling again. But I dont know who to speak to about getting the poetry reinstated. I want to thank Christina McDermott for teaching me the Russian for strip to the waist. I was wondering how to say that and now I know, useful, too, since Peri insists we go to Russia for our August holidays--we get the whole month free. She lived in Novosibersk for a time and wants to go back, claiming it is a top-notch spot to do some debauching. Knowing how to say padova ya padovnayen certainly cant hurt. Peri is always going on about debauching, and as I told her in Prague, where we didnt look up the fictional Pauline L. Shivers, as I told her, Peri, I said, you are all talk and then action. And then talk again. Its true. Watch her in Edinburgh to see. JDS Conectate a Internet GRATIS con Yahoo! Conexión: http://conexion.yahoo.com.ar +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Sophia for President
by terry boyle 11 Mar '02

11 Mar '02

Greetings all, As an Australian, I completely agree with what Sophia had to say about Australian's and their dodgy memories. Australia's past (and a lot of the present) is very neatly swept under the carpet where it seems to be out of sight, out of mind (2 cliche's in one sentence, sorry about that). And when you look under the carpet you get a mouthful of 200 year old dust and feel sick to the stomach. Two centuries of fakers. Down with Patriotism. Have a nice day, Terry 2,000,000,000 Web Pages--you only need 1. Save time with My Lycos. http://my.lycos.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: new site
by Robert Brennan 10 Mar '02

10 Mar '02

Fans of my griping the other week might like to know that I have finally abandoned Tripod and relocated to http://liquid2k.com/robster75 . Those joyful sinister images are at http://liquid2k.com/robster75/sinister.html The site is completely ad-free and all the original photos are available in their bigtastic full sized-ness. A redesign is in progress so don't be surprised if the site looks crap, has broken links or drops off the face of the earth for no reason at all. Enjoy. Robster __________________________________________________ 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: Bis cover Joy Division!
by Liz Daplyn 10 Mar '02

10 Mar '02

No, really, its as true as I can make it. Its a fantastically bleepy vocoderd version of Love Will Tear Us Apart. Slightly sacreligious, one might feel if one could be drawn to make judgements like that, but what are icons for if not, well, clasting? Watch a space of your choice. Of course, Ive already made my pronouncement on it by not immediately spitting in its general direction. The malaise of not being able to stand up for or follow ideas through properly is an infuriating one prevalent in these alienated times. If something is worth thinking about in the first place, its worth developing thoroughly and bringing to a positive (or negative, ho ho) conclusion, and its maddening to come across people (and, of course, ones self, annoyingly) being smugly non-committal with their vaguely postmodern laziness. Sitting on damp cold fences gives you piles, kids. My personal comfort blanket at the moment is Stood On Gold by Gorkys Zygotic Mynci. Just to see its small yet perfectly formed vinyl loveliness begin to spin round (even before the music starts, just listening to the slight hiss through tasty Technics speakers) makes my bone marrow melt and my knotted intestines unravel with joy. And when its finished (and 7s finish so sweetly) the fragile arm of the cheap record player shifts from its active hovering position to glide silently back to the resting place where it comes to an halt with a tiny but definite click of satisfaction. Likewise the happiness of hearing Camera Obscura playing on the radio the other night. They r!o!c!k!e!d!, in particular showcasing the ivory-tickling talents of the (most likely glamorously fishnetted) Miss Carey Lander of this parish. I was a tad merry, having shared a bottle of Pinot Grigio with my mother over a most exciting green curry, and as the room revolved slowly about the central point of my futon in time to the gorgeous sounds from the stereo, all was well. Having spent far too much time _this_ weekend putting up my Mum's floor-length brown velvet curtains (very decadent and yet rather boring), I hope to be in London _next_ weekend to look at a house, go to the pub, and partake of at least a smidgen of the visit of the fragrant Ms Fruitloop. Oh, and maybe look at some art. So if I see any of you there, dont be offended if I seem absentminded. I shall probably be drunk. Which reminds me: I really should refrain from boozing quite so much at gigs. Its all very well, but my quality control goes right out the window, so the old critical faculties arent really up to appreciating the music. Or maybe Ive only seen fantastic bands lately. Brixton in only a couple of weeks! If people are interested, there are some photographs of last month's Brighton extravaganza at http://photos.yahoo.com/wintryme along with some other stuff from the latest batch of pictures I got returned with the aforementioned through the post. I love mail order photo development. Whoever it was that said theyve become addicted to buying things on the internet, Im with you there. Getting parcels in the post is so exciting because you never know precisely when theyre going to come, or whether the item purchased is going to live up to or even exceed expectations. Its the pleasurable uncertainty that one craves. Like being in love, no? Mmmm. Liz :x --- Tsuki-Yuki-Hana Twitch the blind and peep at the moon The big round moon like a piece of soap. It washes the daytime out of your eyes And fills them with night-time. Ivor Cutler --- _________________________________________________________________ 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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Sinister: 'Cause you wanna say hello to everybody
by John Jennings 10 Mar '02

10 Mar '02

my bluddy computer hates me. i've said it a thousand times before and here i am saying it again. but its true, no denying it.... i've got a bill i cannae pay for my domain name, icq crashes pretty much whenever anyone starts talking to me which makes people think i'm even more antisocial than i am... which is no mean feat... and then my sinister email address got closed down again, which is all down to my hoarding tendencies being translated into digitalness by all the sinister mails i've kept... so i had to unsubscribe from sinister again and i lost of emails that people had send to that address, and that made me feel guilty because there were some lovely emails from lovely sinister people that i never got to reply to, and yet again people think i'm even more antisocial than i am.... so if anyone wants to email me, or is very angry that they didn't get a reply the first time round, john(a)ilonline.co.uk is the new (non-changing) place to do so.... all this also meant that i couldn't reply to any sinister posts.... which was most annoying because lots of people have said lots of funny and interesting things over the past couple of months and i would have liked to let them know it... so if you said anything interesting and funny over the past couple of months, can we just take it that i've mentioned you in a post now please? so then... erm... content.... well this is pseudo-content... has anyone noticed that the treasure hunt clues seem to make cliques of the people who live in or know the cities well? whether you can call a million odd people a clique is arguable, but i read the clues and went 'wha...?'.... does anyone fancy coming to nottingham to see ali roberts with me on friday? dum de dum.... by the way i had a dream that we planned a sinister new years party (aha, at last, a sinister dream. hoho).... and we booked a massive big place and everyone who had anything to do with sinister all came and we had lots of fun.... it seemed like a good idea in the dream... ahem. so anyways, i'm happy that i've re-asserted my place in the sinister community now.... That was fun. JP x +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Damn you High Fidelity, Damn you to a closed sheep pen!
by Adam Leier 10 Mar '02

10 Mar '02

Has anyone else encountered fellow humans who automatically dismiss Belle and Sebastian just becasue Jack Black has told them to do so in the seething High Fidelity? It's really quite infuriating, just like the times i dismissed The Strokes as telephone-talking Television ripoffs and Stephen Malkmus' cd as Diet Lou Reed. If even I can come around do you think it's possible these unfortunate souls will? Adam (AOLIM=BlurryBoy13) +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: 'Chu always rain on my parade
by Christina McDermott 10 Mar '02

10 Mar '02

One should never wear a skirt if you intend to walk through Central London. Maybe it's just a me thing here, but every time I decide to wear a skirt in this city, I get funny looks from passers-by. I'll be sat on the Tube reading my "Big Book of Early Modern Women" (Yes, I have one of these, and a right scintillating read it is too) and the person across from me is looking at me, or more to the point, they're looking at my legs in a really interesting manner, like I've just stepped off some rare and exotic planet where we all wear skirts with wiggly patterns and listen to the Lo-Fidelity Allstars (Their first album I hasten to add, I rediscovered this little lyrical gem whilst rooting around in my record collection, desperate for soothing sounds to help me get through work and remembered what a damn fine groove it had to it, and such astounding lyrics too, like "The disco bison likes the disco music," much like that new pop-warbling songstress Shakira whose lyrics in one of her songs goes apparently along the lines of "good thing my breasts are small and humble so you don't confuse them with mountains. Sheer genius!) Or, I could just be walking down the road near Uni, in my own blissful daydreams about me and the cute guy who sits next to me in my History of Political Thought class and what I could do to him using the newly learned Russian phrase of "strip to the waist" (it goes along the lines of "padova ya padovnayen in case you're interested or if you're ever in a compromising position with a Russian) when I catch someone walking past me, looking at my skirt and then looking at me in an interesting way. It never happens when my friend Mazda wears a skirt which she does practically everyday, so why me I ask? It used to be if you didn't wear a skirt in polite society you got funny looks. Maybe I just have amazing legs, maybe I AM an alien from a distant exotic planet and I haven't realised it yet. Or maybe I just look amazingly rough in a skirt. Who knows? Not that I've really had much of an excuse to go out looking good in a skirt recently. This Cola-Cube has the end of term blues, stemming from the fact that she's poor (yes, I knowit's my own bloody fault because I decided to buy a Glastonbury ticket now to make sure that it didn't all sell out on me instead of waiting until I had worked over Easter and therefore could afford the damn thing. Oh well, I'm going now. Is anyone else out of interest? Maybe we could all have a little Sinister Glastonbury meet-up and have a picnic on the hills overlooking Sommerset and I could eat noodles again like I do every time I go to a festival.), has too much work (one 5,000 word essay on Religion in Latin America and another 2,500 one of Political philosophy both due in in two weeks time. Ick). I think it's just this time of year that's getting everybody down, we're all tired and fed up of bad things swooping down on us like black clouds when we're not expecting it, like ex boyfriends and phone bills. Part of me wants to get into bed and sleep off the fatigue that I can't seem to get rid of, no matter how long I sleep for. It just seems that the alarm clock is always there on the periphery waiting to physically shake me quite hard so I can't drift off into dreamy land for too long because just as things start getting good, I'll hear that beep-beepy noise telling me I have to get my foppish little Indie-girl ass out of bed and actually do things that are worthy instead of sitting around and reading the trashy romance novels that I found in my friend's kitchen the other night and drinking tea which is what I really want to do. My little Sixteen year old baby brother is coming to visit me next weekend because he, like me at that point, has gotten fed up of Manchester and GCSE's and the muggy grey weather which sticks to your clothes and you can smell in your hair (and ooohmy tape player appears to want to be remixing Jeff Buckley. It sounds rather good, but I'm sure it shouldn't be doing this). At least he's not avidly mixing Atari Teenage Riot with his Belle and Sebastian which if I remember rightly was what I was doing at his age, along with a great number of things that I shouldn't really mention here It's not too bad I suppose, I got my Belle and Sebastian ticket for Manchester through the other day and I found out that my band have got more recording time over Easter before our guitarist goes off travelling around America (we were reviewed in both the Oxford and London student newspapers if anyone's interested. The Oxford review compared us to Gorky's, before labelling us "aural torture" (I was quite proud about that) but the London one was lovely and said nice things, so maybe we're not all that terrible reallywe can but hope. And it's Track and Field next Friday too, a club night where you can usually see me and my friends bouncing around the dance floor like maniacs, running up and down the staircase to see which floor is currently playing the best music (which afterwards makes you realise that it's called Track and Field for a bloody good reason), and produces pictures of you and your friend brandishing a shoe and neither of you can remember why Still, I send my love and commiserations to all of you whose parade is being rained on at the moment. Especially Gordonooh, that's mighty rough having your wallet stolen with your Belle and Sebastian ticket inside. I saw the strangest thing today myself regarding interesting homeless people. I was walking to Uni so that I could use the library (I know, I know...a first year actively going into University on a Sunday so she can use the library! Shocking, isn't it?) and I was walking up Tottenham Court Road when I saw this old lady hanging off a lampost just pointing and screaming abuse in her own made-up language at the passers-by. People just kept looking at her strangely as they walked past and she screamed and ranted about what I really couldn't say. I couldn't help wondering why she was stood there on the Tottenham Court Road on a Sunday doing this instead of being at home and what had led her to stand there, babbling and screaming like a child. Did some immense tragedy shake her life and this was her escape mechanism? Was she drunk, consumed by grief, or just in her own little world where she felt like a trapped animal and lashing out at the world was her only way to deal with the situation she found herself in? I know how she felt and I sympathised because there are times when I just want to stand and point at the world and scream at it too for making things go wrong and hurting people I love and generally at times making me hurt and ache with sadness all over. I wanted to go to the Accident and Emergency department at UCH which wasn't too far away and get someone to help her, but by the time I came out of the shop I was in, she had gone. Strange how things like that make us stop and think for a while. After all, there are multitudes of strange people in this city, but for some reason I can't help wondering why she was screaming, and if she had children and if they were thinking about their mum today. Who can say? Maybe it's not my place to ask. If I can make the summer last longer if I stay up all night, that means that for half of my Summer I'll be hyperactive through sleep deprivation and the other half comatose as a result. What a heartening thought. Love and amusing Russian phrases, Cay Cola-Cube XXx P.S. Waves and hugs to lovely Michael my friend in the nursery who calls me McDermott (which I find rather sweet in an endearingly old-fashioned kind of way), and who will no doubt amaze you all with his linguistic prowess once he's allowed out of there to wreak a path of havoc across the Sinister world "If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your Revolution..." -Emma Goldman +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Skies
by Fernando Brito 10 Mar '02

10 Mar '02

Queridos sinistros, It was a pleasant week here in Sampa*, with sunny days, light-blue skies, that reminded me that Fall is just beyond the corner. The equinox used to be so important to me. A symbolical importance, cause I'm no astronomer or anything! When I was a kid and had plenty of time to do every kind of useless things, I used to count the difference in minutes between the length of each day, from the solstice to the equinox. And I loved to spend the clear autumn nights on the roof, looking for constellations, seeing how the night sky changed from day to day, or even just stargazing. Did you know that many of the bright stars that we see are in fact a superposition of tens of little stars? I used to search for these "fake stars". And it was beautiful to see the dance of Jupiter's moons! And I always wanted to see the rings of Saturn, but my binoculars were not that powerful, and my mother couldn't afford to buy me a telescope... Now I live in an apartment building, I don't have a roof. And the city where I live today is not the best to be wandering at night looking at the sky... in the next morning you might be found lying on the ground with your mouth full of ants**! And after all, I'm tired of using my binoculars to watch the nearby windows looking for naked girls! So autumn is my favorite season. The sky is so blue and clear, every day it gets a bit colder... and a recurrent feeling of melancholy, that is not bad at all, makes me feel so lonely, abandoned, like I am the last living person on Earth and the crowd around me is nothing but souls of bygone persons. It's like the first part of that movie with Charlton Heston, I can't remember the name now, also like that scene of Vanilla Sky in which NY is completely empty of people... Speaking of Vannila Sky, I went to see it on wednesday. It started around 21:20 and ended at 23:30. The cinema was in a shopping centre, which closes at 22:00. After the movie was over I left the projection room and... it was so weird... the whole mall was empty, there was no one else there! It was kind of like the movie! And what's more strange, I felt so well that way, walking through the deserted hallways, very slowly, watching the vitrines and the shops. I don't know what that feeling was, I think I felt powerful, like everything in that mall was mine, or at least, at that moment, I was able to do whatever I wanted with all those things around me. I don't know, I just felt wonderful all by myself in that very large place that usually is full of people. It was like being in a church... but I'm not quite sure cause it's been a few years since I last entered a church. Actually this whole event took place in only a few seconds, perhaps one or two minutes, but what was really impressing was that feeling, when you leave a dark room, where you know that everything is fake, and you're expecting to come back to the real world - in your head you're gonna push that door and there will be people walking around you, talking, shouting, doing something, anything - but then, there you are, in another fake world, there's no one else there, only you, all the people from the cinema were left behind, they took the elevators. And there I was... all alone. Feeling powerful... Until the security guy came and asked me if I was lost! Well, at that moment, with all that bewilderment in my head, all I could do was smile and say "Yes". So he showed me the elevators and that's where I left my daydream behind! But on to happier topics... I finished my sinister marathon last weekend! There were about 80 posts to be read, but it was worth the effort! Mark wrote that he has read in John Peel's website that staying up all night can double your summer vacation... Someone should ask Mr. Peel if "getting laid" all night also can double my summer vacation, cos that would be much more fun! Now, guys, does it make any sense or my english really sucks?! And I'm so happy, 'cause I read an article by a famous brazilian indie columnist saying that Charlatans are coming to Brazil next month! Wooo-hooo!!! And Stephen Malkmus is also confirmed! Now I wonder if he's gonna sing Pavement's songs! And I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy! Oh no, that's Geddy Lee! Does anybody here like Rush? Is it a sin to like Rush in this list?! If so I have no doubt about what I am to do, I will throw away all my Rush albums and stick with you guys! Because I LOOOOVE Belle and Sebastian, and... what's Rush?! So... I think that's all! What was my point? I've just told you! See you later! Fernando Brito * - Sao Paulo, the city. ** - Dead. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 edge of the world
by sophia katrina 09 Mar '02

09 Mar '02

oh sinister, all this talk of concerts and picnics and spring rain on the other side of the globe has made me melancholy. seeing b&s at the royal albert hall was so wonderful, and i wish i could repeat the experience... somewhere exciting... i think i must be suffering the famous geographical envy that you keep talking about. maybe all the australian listees should stage a rival meet-up? we could all drive to whichever point is equidistant to perth, brisbane, sydney and melbourne. we could sit in the desert, drinking beers out of an esky (aus., n., plastic box with blocks of ice for chilling food), roasting sausages and tofu burgers over the campfire, drinking beers and looking at the sky or at the thousands of kilometres of peaceful nothingness around us. then we could all go our separate ways again.(alternately, i could do as someone suggested and take advantage of my anonymity and go into too much intimate detail about my life. but you poor people have suffered enough on that front already). you see, sometimes i forget that i live on the edge of the world*. but on days like this i remember. i think if i could just look over the horizon i would see walls of sparkling water falling into space. as it is, i can only see a line of tankers, suspended across the bay like a string of lights. they could very well be stars. i've been thinking a lot about australia, and the thing is - i don't trust it. i have never been patriotic about any nation, though i have heard the word used well - by patti smith, or by ani difranco when she sings "i am patriot, i have been fighting the good fight..." when you have triple citizenship, it's too much of an effort. (on the plus side, i get a lot of marriage proposals, and quite lucrative ones at that, but i'm holding out. my sources tell me a US passport will go for ten grand on the black market...) i wrote my third year thesis on belonging and displacement, actually, and anyone interested in reading it can e-mail me. it is - marginally - more edited than my posts. life here seems somehow precarious. it feels like that diane arbus photograph, the one of a movie set on top of a hill. on first glance it could be a house, but on closer inspection you understand that it is a set, just a facade, and through the windows you can see dark clouds blowing across the sky. that's how i feel about this country. living here requires a daily, no, constant act of forgetting. my suburb is so fashionable that they film a tv show about the romantic misadventures of attractive twenty-somethings (it's called 'the secret life of us', and they show it on channel 4 in the uk). but to believe that st. kilda really is the 'lifestyle precinct' that tv says it is, to believe in the streets full of shiny bars and shinier people, you have to forget about the police beating up the aboriginal people in catani gardens. you have to walk past them, past the homeless people who hang around outside the 7-11 and play guitar in the middle of the night, past the women who stand on street corners on carlise street at nine o'clock on cold saturday morning, waiting for men in cars to pull up and roll down their windows... and you have to foget them. unless slumming is the whole point. maybe the shiny people want a kitchen full of stainless steel scandinavian applicances and a view of junkies from their living room window. once a man overdosed in our front garden. he had been eating the roses in the garden. when we came home, he was lying there, flat on his back, with petals falling from his mouth. in australia there is forgetting on a grander scale. forgetting that refugees are locked up in tin sheds in the desert, seeing tear gas for the first time in this supposedly civilised nation. forgetting that the government lied to us during the election and told us that the refugees had thrown their children overboard. (http://www.theage.com.au/specials/immigration/index.html) forgetting that the governor-general let sexual abuse of children go unpunished when he was an archbishop. forgetting that aboriginal people have only had the vote for forty years, and that a generation of their children were stolen from them in a policy of forced assimilation. forgetting about the white australia policy and one nation and the salt that rises in the water tables every year because the trees are going and the land is rebelling. the trees began to go because the first settlers wanted to recreate english pastures and rolling hills. they wrote their homesickness across the land, the desert, the forests, deep into the crust of the earth... and the scars of their longing are still with us. we have convicts on the australian side of the family (i know, because of the obvious impossibilities and falsifications in the family tree). the folk songs that convicts wrote have the most heartbreaking words. "bound for botany bay" ends with "if i had the wings of a turtledove, i'd soar on my pinions so high, straight into the arms of my polly love, and in her sweet presence i'd die." the whole history of this country is so brutal and so, so sad. what do you do when you stop forgetting? sophia X *the western, english-speaking, colonial world of course. _________________________________________________________________ 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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Sinister: aislers set show in la is cancelled
by Jennifer Juniper 09 Mar '02

09 Mar '02

hi there! sorry that i posted about this show since it isn't happening afterall. i guess the good thing about posting it on sinister was that someone e-mailed me to say they were cancelling dates because of illness. so i called the venue and it is true, they are NOT playing on sunday in los angeles! :o( boo hoo! cheers, jennifer juniper __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Try FREE Yahoo! Mail - the world's greatest free email! http://mail.yahoo.com/ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "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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