June 2002 - Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: B&S merch ...
by Katrina House 26 Jun '02

26 Jun '02

Just to let you know that we have two Belle & Sebastian vinyl stickers for sale. Those of you who were at the recent US/Canadian gigs would have seen them there and we now have the leftover stock. The designs are a black & white "I Love My Car" sticker and a blue, red and white "Jet Tours" sticker. Both items are £1.50 each and postage is included in this price. Saves people paying $20 for the from eB*y. We have also made a new batch of the "Jet Tours" mugs and you can find all of these at http://www.banchoryshop.net cheers, Katrina @ Banchory banchory press - management - merchandising po box 25074 glasgow g2 6ld scotland email: shop(a)banchory.net http://www.banchory.net http://www.belleandsebastian.co.uk/home +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: A woman needs a fish like a man needs a bicycle
by Liz Daplyn 26 Jun '02

26 Jun '02

*** Such sallies and swoons. A starling flock. A total eclipse of the moon. Paul Muldoon *** So anyway, as I was blearily sitting down to tea and toast earlier, I glanced up from my kitchen-table concentration on buttering and lemon-curding and out the window to notice that there was an elegant young lady mallard perching on the garden fence, her tail feathers spread for balance on the thin wooden support. She seemed rather agitated, not to mention out of place in a small garden entirely surrounded by tall houses, but it wasn't until a couple of minutes later that I noticed her full complement of onetwothreefourfivesixSEVEN baby ducklings clustered round a sizeable flowerpot on the ground below. The nice man next door and I came to the conclusion that she probably sneakily laid her eggs in someone's back garden, hatched them out and is now wondering how to get them to the park pond. The nice man is phoning the appropriate people and they should all be happier by the time I get back home. Hopefully. Crikey. On to less important things: SUMMER HERE KIDS! Nice to see that Edwyn Collins will be getting a heap of royalties from the use of "Never Met a Girl Like You Before" on some hair dye advert. That'll keep him in Hawaiian shirts for a while yet. The inexplicable bruises (right side of the body only for some reason) of the last week's fun and games fading, like the morning, into green and gold, it's time for reflection, along with a load of other irrelevancies. What else is a jobless girl to do on a lovely sunny London day? DANCING "How Does It Feel To Be Loved?" was the question, and I'm not sure I can remember the answer, but we (having nailed our courage to the sticking point) danced our socks off anyway, despite most of the fab records being at least twice the average age. I think. The Buffalo Bars (what macho people have on the front of their Sports Futility Vehicles to fend off the large ruminative wildlife of suburbia) is fetchingly red all over, which could get trying eventually. And, as Mark H mentioned, the lack of signage on the 'conveniences' was mighty amusing, at least after one's first visit, when viewing the first visits of other parishioners. Also, !dang! expensive bottled beer. BOWLING There was bowling and it was very good. Rowan's R!O!C!K!S! with its dingy interior and authentically sticky floor. Cheap bitter, too. I improved no end over the two games played, and demand a rematch at some point. Luckily, I can sneakily get some midweek practice in on the cheap. There was drinking in the pub and eating of Nando's corporate whore chicken chunks, then more drinking and such back at my house for the truly hardcore. Am resolved, having marvelled at the twinkling fingers of Mr Chu on my poor neglected steelstrung acoustic, to relearn the chords that I have forgotten and then some more. E minor, where art thou? Also to spend more time in bed with sinisterines. WANKING What the clever-clever monologue in "Mandingo cliche" is designed to make those of the assembled who are susceptible to girls and social theory do. Like Todd S himself, one would presume. It all makes sense, but there's something rather cynically manipulative about it, added to the wisdom-from-the-mouths-of-babes factor. It would be more interesting if she was a witty and perceptive hideous troll rather than another jobbing actress with perfect teeth. Still, while on the subject of shallowness: WIMBLEDON Mmm, tennis players. Like the Girl from Ipanema, many of them are tall and tanned and young and lovely, not to mention lithe and fit. Phwoar. Cold showers all round, then. Love, Liz :x *** Politeness lasts like a flower, then curls, darkens and returns to itself. Steve Aylett *** _________________________________________________________________ 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: the picnic at the centre of the universe
by Jim Sephton 26 Jun '02

26 Jun '02

hello my little scrumptious little gorgeous bits of scrumptious gorgeousness. and archel. i'm about to fly to glastonbury, so i can't stop. besides, as the buddha once said 'talk is for pussies, silence is WHERE ITS AT!' or he would have done, if he hadn't been busily staying silent at the time. just a quick one, then. no fucking about straight to the point.. yeah! so...here's the point the one you were waiting for its here there will be a PICNIC in BIRMINGHAM the weekend of the 21st/22nd july. i haven't arranged the exact date yet, i will do that soon. the gorgeous dimitra daisy and sunny set will be coming to visit, and i'm hoping i can persuade a few others to come too. (taylor, are you reading?) there will be some room at my house, although not a lot. the picnic will be in cannon hill park, because the cinema there has a bar we can go into if it rains. and because cannon hill park is nice. if you stay out of the way of the roller-bladers and pushchairs. see you there, or i'll want to know why.. and i don't accept 'i live in a different country' as an excuse. (speaking of which, will somebody in australia say 'hi' to jeremy for me?) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------- one more thing. some of you may recall a certain cat power gig the night of the greenwich picnic that i was trying to persuade you to go to. the following may be of interest. or it might if you like cat power anyway. otherwise, just don't read it. i would have posted this earlier, but i didn't. 'a cat in the bush is worth.....' cat power at the bush hall Sunday 5th May the bush hall looks like it should be filled with posh ladies sipping tea and saying 'ooh, baroness jocasta, the working classes are FRIGHTFULLY presumptuous these days'. tonight, it was full of smartly-dressed scruffbags and scruffily-dressed smartbags, all looking suitably reverential. they had come here to worship, after all. the support act were called 'somebody (dwight? john? malcolm?) yorkston and the athletes' and they were rather fantastic. they are not exactly stretching the boundaries of alt. country, but when you can make the centre sound this fine, that doesn't really matter. clever lyrics, gorgeous tunes. if you don't hear of them again, then there's no justice in the music industry. so, you probably won't hear of them again. chan marshall, aka cat power, has a reputation for giving 'unpredictable' performances at gigs. this was my first feline experience. i'd heard she lasted 15 minutes at one recent gig. i was hoping they wouldn't talk, or heckle her, or do anything to upset her as she crept onstage with her guitar and muttered something which everyone laughed at. it was probably very funny. a shame i couldn't understand it. i've never been good with muttery people which meant i missed most of chan's asides that evening. judging from the guffaws which resounded around me, she must be a Mistress of Wit. she started off beautifully, delivering material from both 'moon pix' and her covers album in her uniquely unearthly style, barely pausing for breath in between numbers. moving between the piano and the guitar, cracking unintelligable but clearly hilarious jokes as she went, she did a great job of Impressing An Audience Who Would Have Been Impressed Even If She'd Turned Up, Blown Her Nose, And Buggered Off Again. but when you sit in the centre of such a congregation, its impossible not to end up clapping in time to their tune, and, in this case, it would have been unjustifiable. as the gig went on, she got a little more, shall we say, 'quirky', getting bored of songs halfway through, improvising frequently, appealing for audience participation (this seemed to involve sing-a-long-a-can-i-get-a-witness-with-chan on several occasions, and whistling on command), getting notes wrong, stopping, starting and generally fucking about. nobody else would have got away with it. she did. i heard someone else call the gig 'shambolic', and i have to agree. but this wasn't a lacklustre, unexciting, badly drawn boy shambles. this was The World Of Cat Power. she drew us in, she played with us, and she showed us how special it felt to be played with. she broke every rule in the Good Gig Guide. i can't wait to see her again. frustrating, hugely entertaining, amusing, disconcerting. i think i'm in love. ian ------------------------------------------ Tomorrow will bring happiness Or at least, another day Phil Ochs ------------------------------------------ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: stare.......
by Jill Henkels 26 Jun '02

26 Jun '02

stare... how do i contract time? large movements only come when selecting new music. how is it that it can be quite so quiet here? has everyone entered the same zone as me? very little seems to get accomplished; just enough to meet the deadline, no matter if it is correct. each wall is adorned with a clock to constantly remind us that time is, indeed, the corporate sponsored religion. stare.... in such a sterile environment, one's brain slowly becomes unhinged, though mine has excelled in only 2.5 months. the results are interesting: quick, spastic movements when away from these cubicle walls, mood swings brought on by thoughts of sad times of the past (why can't i be there instead of here?), frantically grasping for my legs in fear that they've simply fallen off for they are no use here in the land of email and speaker phone. direct human contact leaves me shuddering, craving for the shadows. stare.... life (whatever is allowed, at least) away from the corporation is now indirectly affected. sexual advances are now required to be booked through an office assistant; fifteen minute meetings only please. i've stopped listening to others' tales for my jealousy for their lives makes me an unhappy, and therefore (according to the sign), an unproductive employee. stare..... i wonder if the two neighbors of mine even know what the other looks like; they are constantly on conference calls to one another just feet apart; this is called efficiency. in my space, time has frozen; the company calendar reminds me of january and brags a photo of germany. june saddened me with the image of poppies and was quickly discarded. moments of joy can be found: when the coffee machine slips and gives me two cups rather than just one; when a print job can be successfully located through the sea of cubicles. sometimes people bring donuts. i don't like donuts, but i do like to take one to remind me of someplace with flavor. stare......... this is my life now, for the next 40 years or so. i've taken my place in front of that ladder. the sign begs that we wait our turn; please don't push for everyone will get the chance to plunge to their death once we can no longer climb. they do say that the life expectancy rate is getting longer. this will allow me the opportunity to enjoy life a bit, that is if i've planned and saved appropriately. stare...... jillianne ps. still working on that quote, so until then i shall borrow one from sara. after all, as all cover bands claim, it's meant to be a compliment, not laziness: "all the people'd stare as if we were both quite insane someday my name and his are going to be the same" _________________________________________________________________ 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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Sinister: Skyline of the Olympus Mons
by Dean Gillon 25 Jun '02

25 Jun '02

Hello everyone. It's been really quiet on here lately. Has anyone else noticed? I used to open my emails almost every night and get 8 or 10 in my inbox. Recently it's been about 3. Lurking is the new lurking, after a brief manic of everyone posting and no mistake. Some little vagabond kicked my back door in last week whilst I was at the piccys watching Spiderman (not bad, but don't expect anything too taxing). The scoundrel hotfooted it away with my playstation and my shiny new mobile. That means I'm now on my third phone in 2 weeks, after my first one went for a swim in a very hot cup of tea, and subsequently became a bit poorly. I get paid tomorrow and I can't wait. It's crap being skint. I can finally get poor Scooby the goldfish some food, after he's been forced to live off of left over pasta, creme eggs and tomato soup. I've got my eye on a rather cool t-shirt too and I'll pick up some peanuts for my bird feeder in the back yard. I should call it a sparrow feeder really because that's all I've ever seen at it. Oh, well, sparrows need feeding too. It can't be much fun for the poor little sods. They never get to reel around their front room to "The Boy With The Arab Strap" half pissed do they? Or do they? He was called Scooby before Storytelling too before anyone says anything. I'm thinking of launching a legal action (um.) Ho Hum, sorry it's a bit boring. That's what being skint will do for you. Before I post again I promise to discover a new colour, have a number one record about a penguin and successfully bring the mammoth back from extinction. Does everyone on here look forward to Idleberry's posts? I know I do. I think we should elect her El Presidente and build her a palace and/or a big bronze statue. What do you think? Leader. Leader. Leader. Take care and enjoy Glasto if you're going. Loads of Love Dean XX "As a gale on the mountainside bends the oak tree I am rocked by my love" Sappho __________________________________________________ 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: Amusing
by Michael Vance 25 Jun '02

25 Jun '02

http://wso.williams.edu/~dgambrel/catgirl/cgscout.gif m. -- "But still, I'd rather be famous Than righteous, or holy Any day, any day." -- The Smiths, Frankly, Mr. Shankly +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Going home alone
by Kenneth P Y Chu 25 Jun '02

25 Jun '02

It's been too long.. Going home alone ================ Going home alone from the ridge of East Coast lost in a world she had known as a girl She knows her lover lies south, in Milton Keynes Playing along and then sleepy as night Warm in the bum that conceal her from sight she is accustomed to frowning to people Taking the time as he walks on the plane Holding the flowers he picked in the rain walking in shadows to his Isobella Safe in the dawn he gets under the sheets His Isobella a heavenly sweet Wet dreams that was put there to save and protect him He knows that time can not endlessly go If he keeps love from Izzy and not let her know she will be gone too and he could not bear it Hope at the bottom he calls almost big Folk take for granted as they walk to gigs She starts deep breathing and I'd listen to her Sir all I want is a chance to amend Isobel deficiency please do not send Me far away from my arse Me far away from my arse Me far away from my arse Isobella <clap clap clap clapclap> <clap clap clap clapclap> ding dinglading ding ding ding Ken _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: 'i spent this afternoon nostalgic for this morning'
by rrrrobyn 25 Jun '02

25 Jun '02

hi sinister, lately it is all about jazz musics b/c it is jazz festival time in vancouver. i saw ken vandermark & school days for *free* yesterday outdoors in the sunshine and it was great. (and a nice change from *sleeping most of saturday* due to football/soccer watching fatigue. almost... over...) but jazz, yeah. new things: i bought new headphones finally - holy cow, what's that? is that *bass*? is that *a broad range of sound*? etc. i urge people to buy decent headphones (www.headphone.com has good advice) i only bought a pair of koss portapros, but hell, so much better than crappy sony earbuds that came with my walkman. plus these ones look all early 80s, oooh. also i picked up a lucksmiths cd called 'where were we?' which is 'an assortment of recordings 1999-2001'. yes, but so i opened it up and there's a photo of a sign from right here in vancouver on commercial drive! one of my favourite signs too. it's about haircuts. but it's weird to see such a familiar sight in the inside cover of a cd of an australian band that i love. well, they did spend some time here last year, but still! weird! and i bought a red&white striped tanktop b/c it was $10, cute and makes me happy. my favourite part of idleberry's email was about her friend with the school uniform and briefcase and how "She went on to become an arttherapist, and lives in Birmingham now, working with kids." wow. that paragraph (which was in parentheses) was an amazing short short story. yaay, idleberry! and lindsey wrote "and in one of those books, i want a spider, pressed between pages like a flower." and that you compared a crushed spider to a flower and it came out lovely. whoa. this is just good. yes, so maybe i've been thinking too much lately, but you both got a few tears out of me and i'm not really the teary type. not for the past couple years anyway. don't know what's going on lately. i think it means i need to look more at things like this. oh. yes. http://world.honda.com/robot/ why is it that one can feel so up one day and so down the next? why is it that we're always asking this question? gar. ah, but new things con't: i bought herrmann & kleine's 'our noise' and it is happy bloopy-blorpy summery noise :) robyn "I take whoas and awesomes as far deeper criticism than your average 'a radical departure from the mosh-metal norm' or 'groundbreaking, ambitious, and ultimately essential,' since the latter is demonstrably easy to do but a decent 'whoa' is notoriously tough to fake." - http://www.lastplanetojakarta.com ===== I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything. ~Steven Wright ~~~ Robyn Fadden rfadden(a)yahoo.com Vancouver, BC __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! - Official partner of 2002 FIFA World Cup http://fifaworldcup.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: picnics, protests, past stories
by idleberry 24 Jun '02

24 Jun '02

hello all, Hope everyone is doing ok and tickity boo. Theres a variety of things for me to tell you today, so best to get started I guess... *****NEWS FOR PICNIC WHORES****** there are approximately two more scottish picnics in the pipeline for this summer, following on from the highly successful "goodbye, Mr breams" picnic just over a week ago. Obviously, news of our ability to do it so well has spread far and wide, not unlike the legs of Ulrika Jonsson, that people want to come up here and get a whiff of some HARDCORE scottish sinister picnicking pleasures. The first will take place on the first weekend of July, when Mark HOTPOT Cassarole will be gracing us with his hip thrustin' Elvis-like presence somewhere in glasgow, I suspect. Throwing knickers and swooning is optional. The second is towards the end of the month, and looking likely to take place in Edinburgh, cos Gordon says so. Which is fair enough really. Plus you know, like, us east coasters are getting a bit fed up with having to do all the hard work and travel through. Oh, and are we having a game of football? hmm? or is tennis the new world cup now? If sports are on the menu, please don't forget your gym kit, or I'll make you run round in your bare feet, vest and pants. Even if you've gone commando. ********Work stuff news********* I like telling this story, cos it makes my life seem that bit more interesting. I went and sat in to listen to Tommy "The Commie" Sheridan (SSP) Free school Meals for Children Bill getting debated in the Scottish Parliament last week. I went along, becuase I wanted to get a "feel" for the passion of parliament debates at their most heated. I expected all the fireworks, and verbal wrestling to take place in the chamber, so I sat up in the public gallery, watching as if it were a roman colusseum with the gladiators and lions and stuff. Well, it wasn't far off. The thing is, you're supposed to be respectful of the flow of democracy in the public gallery. But i soon realised, that down in the debating chamber was the better place to be, as the crowds took to the parliament like a bunch of middle aged over excited parents at a pantomime. The jeered. They hissed. I expected them to say "hes behind you!". And the Deputy Presiding Officer gave them a few fair warnings about their behaviour. Feeling a little less than comfortable, surrounded by irrate middle aged oddballs in garishly coloured lycra leggings and sandals, I made an early departure, heading back to watch it on telly, from the safety of my desk, away from all those nasty voters. Plus, all that talk about chips and cheese made me feel hungry. As it happens, the Parliament had to be suspended for ten minutes, as the protesters were escorted by police and security from the public gallery. ************************************* A few days ago, I started emailing someone on this list who responded to one of my previous posts. I was telling them about when I used to be a dancer, when I was a little girl. So I thought I'd tell you too. When I was a kid, my mum used to send me off to do various activities. dancing, swimming lessons, operetta (a drama club), brownies, gymnastics. My best friend, when I was 7, was a girl called Ruth. She went to dance classes, and the dance classes I was attending weren't going so well, on account that it was ballroom dance classes (if you can count dancing to "Agadoo" as ballroom- that was more a warm up exercise though, but hey, at least I learnt to jive and to cha-cha) and my "dance partner" was more interested in sitting in the corner eating ten pence sweet mixes from little white square paper bags than getting up and dancing with me. My dance teacher had words with my mum, and they decided it was for the best I didn't attend anymore. But Ruth went to dancing, and invited me along too. She went to "Miss Clarks School of Dance" in Hamilton, and my mum signed me up to join. I remember the first day. The dance lessons were held in a building, a grey terrace row, on John Street near the town centre and you had to walk along this dingy little corridor into the dimly lit cloak room that smelled of sweat and damp, where you got changed. All the other little girls were skinny and petite, and I was never a skinny and petite little girl, I wasn't over weight, but I wasn't like those little porcelain featured girls, who had been learning to demi pliea (or however its spelt) before they could walk. Ruth ignored me right from the start. I went in, and met Miss Clark. I can tell you, I hated that woman. I despised her. She had a sharp, snarly glaswegian accent, and always had a cigarette dripping from her wrinkled lips. Her saggy eyes drooped, like Paul MacCartney's do, from behind tinted lenses of her glasses and she hd a short grey crop. She wore black sweatshirts over leggings, and she wasn't very tall. She was like a cross between Pasty and Selma from the Simpsons, and Wee Jimmy Crankie. But she was a nasty woman. A cruel, evil hearted woman, who obviously hated children and had fallen on hard times, earning her money teaching little girls to dance and all she could get out of it was to crack a stiff smile at their parents who paid the annual fee, and then snarl, like a rabid dog at their children as soon as the money was in the bank. She growled, and barked, and shouted at you if you forgot. Even the plump middle aged pianist lady with the red curls looked frightened, bowing her head, down, and peering over when Miss Clark told her to stop, as she came stomping across the wooden floor towards some unfortunate child who had made a wrong move. I didn't exactly know what she meant when she told me to point my toes. How do you point your toes? Well, I splayed my toes. And she shouted at me. And she grabbed my foot, and pushed my toes together, and roared "POINT!" ,at me. The first day, I held my little ballet shoes in my hand. I didn't know where to put them, not somewhre that they'd get lost or mixed up, so I pushed them down the front of my leotard. Miss Clark walked over to me, every footstep clipped and sharp. She looked down and smiled. Then her face turned into the darkest expression I have ever seen. Then she growled. And then she called me stupid for sticking my ballet shoes down my leotard, and showed me off to the other girls, who all laughed. She called me "kirstin" and then I made next my mistake. My mistake that would stay with me for the three years I attended her classes. I corrected her pronouciation of my name. "Its Kristin" I said. >From then on, when she talked to me, her voice would resonate around the room, for the next three years, she would talk to me, putting on a mock-posh accent and patronising me "Krrrrrrrrrrristin!" she would say. Rolling her r's tighter than a rizla cigarette paper. I wasn't very good at ballet. The other little girls weren't like me. The class was split into two. Mis Clarks favourites- the porcelain china dolls, who went onto perform in pantomimes, and one little girl even got a bit part in Emmerdale, which made her the starlet for weeks to come as she talked about her showbiz career, Miss Clark washing her with compliments and asking her what it was like. Then there was me, and the other dumpy little girls. The little girls who didn't look like pretty little ballerinas. The less than graceful children. The little girls who tried hard, but really, we didn't stand a chance. The little girls who weren't very good at ballet. The rejects. The oddballs. The girl who was taller than the rest, and akward. The girl with the frizzy curly halo of hair. Me. We hated it there. My friend Ruth woudn't talk to me during the breaks. She would glance over at me, and turn back to the porcelain children and giggle. I befriended those odd little girls, we were like rejected doll parts., thrown down the chute into some cellar. We couldn't dance to save ourselves, we boundered from one foot to the other, flapping our arms, and the other little girls, those perfect little girls with the upturned noses, the rosebud lips, and baby blue eyes would scowl at us. When we had shows, every summer, in Hamilton town Hall, we were put at the back. Out of sight. the pretty ballerinas at the front. But we had our talent. One that made us good. We could tap dance. You see, theres no point in being patient and delicate when you tap dance. The aim of the game was to move quickly, and to make noise. And thats what we did, every saturday. Toe tapping, heel clipping, not standing there at the bar getting tired from holding your leg in the air, worrying that you might fart, in those little soft shoes. I wasn't in Ruths class, but I loved tap dancing. Running around... shuffling hoping, ball-step, shuffle hop ball-step, getting some faster more fun music, not that classical mozart ballet nonsense. I even got to be in the opening sequence to one of the shows. That put a few noses out of joint. Miss Clark shouted at me less on Saturdays. My parents got a laminated wooden floor in the hall way, and I would practise there, for every lesson. I didn't have to remember stupid french names like the Bra Ba or whatever. (I never did french at school, so forgive me for my awful phonetical spelling). It was exactly like it was told. Shuffle. Fast shuffle. Ball step. All the steps had proper names. My last show was in 1989. I moved to Livingston that year, only weeks before our annual performance. So my parents would drive me through to Hamilton, twice a week, to dance. Ruth had even less to do with me after I moved. She stuck to the other little girls. At school, she was my best friend, but at dancing, she didn't like me at all. We had three shows in a week. I had to have my hair tiedback into a tight bun, and sprayed mericlessly with hairspray. I hated having it tied back like that. I didn't mind when we got to dress up. For one show, we dressed up in black leotards and leggings, with white tap shoes with white satin ribbons and little orange skirts with sequins on them, and a headband with a feather- we were supposed to be a little tribe of American Indians. Another show, we wore green leotards and chiffon fairy wings with ballet shoes with ribbons wrapped up our calves. You can bet I was tucked away at the back for most of that one. After the last show, as I got ready to go home, Miss Clark walked across the changing room towards me, as I put on my jacket and stod next to my mum. She gave me a gift. A little pair of three inch long pink satin ballet shoes, in a clear plastic tube. She said thankyou, and told me good luck, then she grabbed me and pulled me close to her for a hug, holding me so tightly, I spluttered on the smell of her cigarettes and could barely breathe. I didn't go to any more dance classes after that. The doctor said I had flat feet, and that ballet shoes weren't suitable for little girls with flat feet, since they had no support. So then I took up swimming, and recieved praise, and enthusiastic words of encouragement. Besides which, if people shout at you, it doesn't sound quite so bad under water. love idles xxx ===== http://groups.yahoo.com/group/corduroysmoke/ starting playground gossip and passing notes __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! - Official partner of 2002 FIFA World Cup http://fifaworldcup.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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Re: Sinister: i don't want to be afraid to say....
by Aruni J 24 Jun '02

24 Jun '02

busstoppers wrote: >and then i recently bought aberdeen's "homesick and happy to be >here" and am once again in love. I just got it and love it, too!...especially the second track (Sink or Float), which, if you have the time and inclination, you should listen to at http://www.betterlookingrecords.com/aberdeen.htm. My only problem with the album is that track seven sounds suspiciously like the Magnetic Fields' "Take Ecstasy With Me," but then there are worse things to aspire to, huh? :) Wasn't the lead singer of Aberdeen on Sinister for awhile? Am I making that up? Is she still on? Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have said that about, er, paying homage to other people's work...Oh well. No harm intended. I _do_ like the album, after all! **North America Tape Tree** Not to let the UK sinisterines have all the fun, would anyone be interested in a North American tape circle/tree/whatever-you-call-it? No deadlines yet--I just want to see if there's any interest. If so, email me back. Toodles, Aruni _________________________________________________________________ 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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