July 2003 - Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: If you find yourself caught in muff
by kenneth.chu＠uclh.org 08 Jul '03

08 Jul '03

"if in doubt, swap love for muff" Not my motto, personally, but I'm sure some people swear by this rule and I can imagine many a cunning linguists out there coming up with a mouthful of muff, so to speak. Shaggy once said he wasn't fond of such witty group of wordsmiths because they're always found eating sushi from the barber's floor. In any case, he pronounces "lover" as "lubber" but pronounce "muff" as "mubb" he does not, and thus the pun is lost in his barrage of brilliant bo(o)mbasticity. ANYWAY. It's been a while. The last time I e-mailed I was talking about how I was about to go to GLASTONBURY. I've gone there now and back again, and now I feel very well rehearsed in my reportage back on Glastonbury events because, when you go back home/back to work from Glastonbury all that anyone would ask you for two weeks would be... "How was Glastonbury?" And it seems strange that I feel as if each time I try to tell my Glastonbury tales it becomes harder, maybe because the spontaneity has gone, and the fifth time you tell the stories I felt like reading from a book, and not a very good book because of my poor anecdotical skills. But suffice to say I had a great time, and I even got to MEET some sinister peeps e.g. The Dirty Vicar + Rener who were disappointingly clean and non-dirty, but great, and also Lucy English Teacher who had nice sunglasses on and was a fellow sufferer of car parking blues and Cay Cola Cube whom I just bumped into! after Delgadoes seeage and had a Pet Sounds T-shirt on, and Robin Stout who gave me a hug! obviously still in euphoria after having had his mouth set on fire by Wayne Coyne. T'was nice MEETing you all and hopefully we'd MEET again and then you can all take photos of me to prove that we've MET! I took some photos... http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/bc/kenglasto I watched about half of the bands I said I'd watch and I went \m/ to all the bands that I said I'd possibly go \m/ to. And I got myself a really strong tan which has now gone all crusty like mashed potatoes with insufficient butter content (eeew), eeew! I hope I'll be pretty again soon. -- For some reason, yesterday I suddenly realised that it was the birthday of the girl I fancied when I was 10 (I think she fancied me too!), god knows how I remember these things! Actually I still remember her phone number but I think she must have moved by now. Ah well. I actually ended up relocating myself away from her (6000 miles away in fact), but that's another story. That sounded as if I was ending this post on a weep note. So I'm going to mention the revival of TIGERMILKING. It's G!R!A!T!E! and it's happening NEXT SATURDAY, the 19th (NINETEENTH) of July (OF JULY). At the Betsey Trotwood (BETSEY TROTWOOD!) from 8 (EIGHT) pm (PM). It's going to be dance-tastic. Even for spotty-oiks who like B&S. It'd make both intelligent and dumb people shake their asses i.e. better than Fischerspooner. http://www.undermybed.org/tigermilking Be there or be CHER*. You don't want that now, do you. Ken *Instead of Tigermilking you ACTUALLY CAN go and see CHER instead at the Verizon Wireless Arena in Manchester, New Hampshire. http://www.vh1.com/artists/az/cher/tours.jhtml but why? ********************************************************************** This email is confidential and intended solely for the person or entity to whom it is addressed. If this email was not intended for you please notify the UCLH Mail Administrator at mail.administrator(a)uclh.org. This footnote confirms that the email and attachments contained no viruses when they left UCLH. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: enough with the cod-australian schtick, already
by David Hewitt 08 Jul '03

08 Jul '03

G'day all. The inimitable Miss Mandee said: "I've been inspired by the double posting of David Hewitt to come out from my hiding place." And while I'm overjoyed to have lured her out, and confused by her ridiculously loose definition of the word 'inspired', I'm also actually a little indignant at her baseless accusation of 'double posting'. I went and checked the pink pages, and there were THREE DAYS between my messages, including a whole weekend. But there's been so little activity on the list lately that the second message did in fact seem to follow quite closely on the heels of the first. You know, Back In The Day (tm), there'd be explanations for 'de-lurking' and exclamations of 'it's been a while' if certain people showed the callous neglect and disregard to leave three whole days between missives. Double posting indeed! She then said some things about long-distance relationships and relocating and so on. And it made me think about several things, the most important of which was how fond I am of both Mandee and her boy, and how I'd wish them the absolute best in everything, except that it'd be both less than they deserve, and completely unnecessary. I'm absolutely certain that they'll be as happy as clams. And now, an apology. Astute readers may have picked up on a certain ranting and defensive tone to my last email to the list (you know, that bit about how great Australia is, despite the bloody government). The reason for this was my own stupidity, I'm afraid. I was somewhat hastily responding to something that was said in response to my previous email. Thing is, I didn't actually register that it was emailed just to me, and not to the list at all, so it might not have made any sense to the rest of you. So, I apologise for both wasting your time, and for inexplicably ranting at you. Sorry. Anyway, I guess this'll make it a TRIPLE posting, and get me in even more trouble. Sorry Honey. Still, while I'm posting again, I might as well continue to ramble for a bit. I'm all about QUANTITY, after all. On a personal note, I'm happier than I've been for a while, and this might sound a bit silly, but it's because I'm simply decided to be. There's still plenty to be unhappy about, but I've decided not to obsess over it, and simply try to enjoy other things, little things, as much as I can. And it's sort of working. So far. It's still the same life, and I'm still in as much strife as I was, but it's a question of what you focus on, isn't it? Take a walk down by the river on your lunchbreak, and you'll see what I mean. Go on. My dear old mother, on the other side of the coin (not literally - she's not the Queen or anything), has been quite down in the dumps lately, what with one thing and another. Strangely, I think that might be part of the reason why I've chirped up a bit. I know that sounds arse-about, but bear with me. I think that sometimes it's the case that when people we care about need to lean on someone else a little bit, and need to think that someone else is doing alright, we try to give them that, even when we're not sure we're quite up to it. And then maybe some of that forced smile and trite optimism sticks. The glib aphorism rings true. And some of that thinly applied bravado lingers, and crystallises into something resembling genuine confidence. Or perhaps it's just that as I'm trying to tell her that things'll be alright, and it's really not that bad, and that she can rise above what's going on around her; I begin to believe some of my own bullshit. I think I'll at least pretend that it's the former. Bugger, this is getting to be a habit. Perhaps I DO need a blog or something, after all. Still, that'll do for now. Go about your business. Bulk love, -Vanilla Flavoured David. PS: Speaking of luring people out of hiding - what has happened to the incomparable Miss Madeleine of Leicester? She was one of the best posters we ever had, don't you think? Say hello, if you're still knocking about the place, m'dear. _________________________________________________________________ Hotmail is now available on Australian mobile phones. Go to http://ninemsn.com.au/mobilecentral/signup.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: Looking for work in all the wrong places
by Eric Brasure 07 Jul '03

07 Jul '03

Hi Sinister. I am looking for a job. I had forgotten how incredibly painful it is. You sit for hours with a cup of coffee, the want ads, and a red pen, and go through each ad hoping that you'll see at least one that looks mildly promising, only to have your hopes dashed when you call the provided number and are informed that the job was filled "this morning". I often think they're lying when they say that, that the secretary is just doing her nails or kicking a cat or whatever it is that people that answer phones for a living do, and they're too busy to patch you through to the right person or give you details on how to apply. Looking for a job also involves driving to different places and screwing up enough courage to ask the 16 year old behind the cash register if they are hiring. After 1,258 negative responses you sort of go into a catatonic state and drive off the Delaware Memorial Bridge. Haha! Just kidding, I would never do that, because the car isn't mine. So, in a vain attempt to keep yourself in cigarettes, you start looking around the house for things to sell on Ebay. This is important, as it is the duty of all jobseekers to Chain Smoke. You also start searching for foreign currency that you could exchange. I have found exactly £3.13 which, barring any unforseen commision, I could exchange for the sum of five dollars and sixteen cents. This is almost enough for two packs of cigarettes. The best part of all of this: I'm simply looking for part-time work to make some money while I work on my dissertation. Funny, I haven't really started work on my dissertation yet, because all my time is spent either a) looking for work, b) complaining about looking for work, or c) worrying about money. I anticipate my search for gainful full-time employment in two months' time will be much more FUN! But enough of this. Good things have happened to me as well. I went on a visit to see Jay (a.k.a. GayJay or Jaylemurph) in North Carolina, where a good time was had, even if it did involve several Near Death Experiences. Also on said trip, I finally got the pleasure of meeting our very own Miss Laura Llew, who was as sweet and adorable as I had anticipated. Unfortunately for all concerned (i.e. ME) she wasn't wearing the Catwoman mask. If she had been, I believe I would have turned all girl-liking and swooned. Also: has anyone ever attended a show in Prospect Park? I'm sort of wary, because it takes places at someplace called the Bandstand at dusk. I wonder if it's at all possible that this whole thing is a complicated attempt to get as many twee people in one place at a time, then steal all their money... come to think of it, I don't care, as I'll be safe from any nefarious doings. Time to go scour the furniture for change. Love, Eric +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: flat out like a lizard drinkin'
by David Hewitt 07 Jul '03

07 Jul '03

G'day all. FLUFFY Well, over the last however long it's been, I've said stupid and controversial things on this list, poured out personal details that you'd really rather not have known, revealed crushes that turned into travels and then into weddings, taken digs at people, places and things, and probably shitcanned your favourite band, football team and ice-cream flavour. But never have I received such an overwhelming response to a Sinister post as I did when I recently said something along the lines of 'I like dryer sheets'. As a result, I've managed to deduce two things: 1. They have dryer sheets pretty much everywhere but Australia, and have done for ages. 2. Dryer sheets are really, really good. Really. I'd suggest that we start up a brand new mailing list in order to discuss the merits of dryer sheets in greater depth, and share our mutual love and appreciation for them, if it wasn't such a dreadful (and not even particularly amusing) idea. Anyway - thanks for your support, team. Solidarity always. Our damp laundry need fear no rain, and our soft buttocks need fear no scratchy, line-dried towel. A slightly larger electricity bill is but a small price to pay: for as long as there's a dryer in our laundries, there's no cloud that can keep the sun from our hearts. GREAT SOUTHERN LAND I also said something about Australian national pride, and how many of us are only really comfortable with it when some bloke from Williamstown is in the finals at Wimbledon, or we're pantsing the Poms at cricket. Again. I was matter-of-factly presented with a laundry list of reasons as to why Australians should be ashamed, since our country and our government is so despicably awful. And yeah, they are. So I take it all back. We're an international embarrassment, and really can only hold our heads high in the sporting arena, which doesn't matter anyway. Fair enough. What our government gets up to behind closed doors, however, with the marginal support of quite cunningly manipulated voters looking mostly at what sort of tax break they'll get at the end of the financial year (as opposed to the erosion of health care, aged care and education, or the continued neglect of the indigenous population, and the horrendous mistreatment of refugees), isn't necessarily what happens in my place, though, or at the gig at the pub down the road, or in the park on a Sunday arvo. There's a culture that exists here, at least in some places, and at least some of the time, that's unique, and really pretty swell. I vote with my conscience, and always have done. As such, I've tried to get rid of the current mob several times already, and I'll try again. In the meanwhile, though, I try to live my life as best I can, do the right thing, be good, tolerant and kind to people, and I don't think that's something I need to be ashamed of. Most of my mates are decent sorts, too - I think you'd get along well. The fact remains that despite the current government, and a bumpy sort of a history, Australia is, for the most part, for most people, as good as most places in the world, and better than many. It's mostly tolerant, diverse, friendly, beautiful, safe and peaceful. It's also got a gangly, knock-kneed, pimply adolescent sort of cultural identity that needs a bit of encouragement. Maybe once our political balls drop and our voice breaks, we'll get out of this awkward phase and really start pulling the sheilas. Or something. That turned into a bit of a rant. Sorry about that. To sum up: Australia's a nice place, despite the fact that our government has done, and continues to do, some fairly unpleasant things. If you come here, I'm pretty sure you'll like it. Just bring your own dryer sheets. Oh, and the Poo choked in the tennis, apparently. Whoop-de-doo. Pass the lamingtons. BLOG IT UP, BLOGGO Christine Irene said: "so enough of that. where have the regulars gone? dirty vicar? ken chu? the rachels? mark? it is just eerily quiet round sinister. see, those blogs are bad for sinister. i know that lots of people find their necessary outlets via blog now, so there is nothing to say to sinister. hmm??" Which is probably a fair point. I, personally, still favour Sinister for my incoherent ramblings, though, and here's why: 1. Reading a blog at work is too bloody obvious. It looks like you're wasting time on the internet. Sinister just looks like email. If I ever get a proper blog up, I reckon I'll make it look like a spreadsheet or something. 2. If you write a blog, you've got to lure people to it. You give them the choice. Sinister, on the other hand, lets you ambush people in their inboxes. Sure, they're here to read wittier and more relevant things, but they've got to take the good with the bad. Fiendish, no? NEW MUSIC I might have said something recently about the state of new music. I did, however, recently fall in love with the new Grandaddy record, which proved to me that I still have it in me to like music, which in turn proved to me that it's music's fault, after all, that this doesn't happen very often anymore. I've since given this more thought, and there seem to be two separate, but related problems: 1. Bands that used to be good, aren't good any more. For the most part. 2. There probably are good new bands, but because I'm old, tired, cranky and out of the loop - I don't hear them. Given that, I find that the thought of a new Belle and Sebastian record is looming quite large. Perhaps controversially (at least amongst my circle of mates), I quite like their more recent offerings, and think they hold up pretty well against the older stuff (nostalgia notwithstanding). Can they save pop music from dying a death once again? Probably not. But it might not be completely unreasonable to hope that the new album's at least good enough to be played at the wake. Bring it on, I say. ENOUGH That's easily enough for one day, though I should mention that despite my chest-pounding 'I <3 Australia' routine, I still love all of you and your countries of residence as well. Come and visit sometime. Bulk love, -David. _________________________________________________________________ Hotmail is now available on Australian mobile phones. Go to http://ninemsn.com.au/mobilecentral/signup.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: there's nobody else here, no one like me
by Today I am not in the mood for anything 07 Jul '03

07 Jul '03

So I've got these wings. I've been feeling guilty about having sprouted wings and not having the courage to try them out. It's messing with the metaphors. So I stood on the lawn and gave a flap. And then another. I was surprised how easily it came to me. Like riding a bicycle, only far easier. My first attempt at cycling was marked by a tendency to go over the handlebars. I was also surprised that one can still be afraid of heights when one is in total control of one's distance from the ground. So given the power of flight I did what anyone ought to do. I had a look around in the hopes of seeing my friends and either a. impressing the living crap out of them or b. spying on them. The campus was lovely up there and I tried a few swoops. The loop de loop wasn't as graceful as I'd hoped but no one was around to notice. Then I saw him. The boy I sold my heart to for some music and clever jokes. As usual he doesn't take any notice of me. I didn't mind though, because seeing as he's here I can just go to his appartment and get my heart back. He left the window open. My heart was stuffed in a box under his bed next to some of his many cds. The origami dinosaur made especially for him suffered a similar fate. Heart returned to it's rightful place, beating feebly inside my ribs, I went to a concert. The fall were absolutely brilliant, but I hadn't got the hang of winching in my wings all the way and lots of punk rockers kept knocking into them as they danced. One of them turned out to know a little Czech. I gave him my number despite the whole of my instincts being against it. My instincts haven't done a single nice thing for me since birth so I see no reason to listen to their counsel. I was scared to fly this late at night so I took the subway home. I'm thinking I could put this newfound abilty to good use once I get good at it. I could start up a rescue service for birds who get tired halfway between trees. Or maybe I'll just help more people who crawled into their cocoons only to find out that what they had been secretly believing all along, deep inside they were a beautiful butterfly. I must say I'm glad I wasn't an ugly duckling. I don't think I could've handled turning into a swan. Laying eggs probably takes it right out of you for the rest of the day. Now I've got a question for the sinisterines. I'm trying to compile a mixed cd entirely devoted to songs about wanking. Culled from my own knowledge and that of my friends I've got *billy idol - dancing with myself, divinyls - I touch myself, Hefner - Hello kitten, the vapors - turning japanese, cindy lauper - she bop, Tweet - oops, oh my, Pixies - the holiday song, Semisonic - get a grip* so far. Any help would be much appreciated. If the idea appeals to you I'm sure I could send a copy along. The other day I got a bunny to eat bread out of my hand by sitting very still for an hour. My heart nearly burst with love. Soaring and fuzzy woodland creatures (and love) Kara www2.bc.edu/~brielman _________________________________________________________________ The new MSN 8: smart spam protection and 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: Picked up a pencil and wrote
by Alasdair Cook 06 Jul '03

06 Jul '03

Dear Sinister, I don't have a diary. A weekend in July; out at 9.30am, the farcical small time of late on Friday and overtime on Saturday, the Things To Be Done, not so important really, and mostly I'm in this for the money. If only they paid me any. "Ten pence a year!", "I'm in my shorts" bellows Nick down the phone, and brings everything into perspective. The early morning watery air tastes of mountains, specific ones just now but, I suppose, they could be any. When do I ever see these hours, let alone accomplish anything during here? This is fairly strange. It hard to motivate yourself when you're all alone; I kill whole streams of seconds getting hot chocolate from the machine, photo-copying is more down time and gazing into the distance, off to the sounds of pipe bands. More later. The printer doesnae work. Four hours later, back in the flat, struggling to see the final on the miniscule television. One sister batters another into some kind of submission, smiles all round. This is all fairly unconvincing. The other sister is the sum of these two, quite literally. I think: Ice-Hockey Goalkeeper. Another star. Out to the cafe when I really don't want to be out anywhere, and now it's face to face; the long march along St Vincent Street seems to stretch on more than it should, there's no way past so I go round. Walking the length of the beast is awesome, dreadful, something quite like nothing else. Here's the worst of all worlds - loathsome self-satisfaction, deadly intent, steely-eyed men and hopeless drunks, pea-brained youths and women knowing nothing else. The face of one boy now, my brother's year at school; my allies in some small aspect. I remember my chat with Joe. "Turn it up, we cannae hear it!" shouts one. Tune out. Morley is talking for free (nothing so unusual) next month I discover, and I'm interested. I've heard of people who get glued to the past, caught in amber. Let's see what he has for us now. A better noise: Altered Images. The terrifying, terrific 'Dead Pop Stars', like drinking lemonade with spiders in; 'I Could Be Happy', 'See Those Eyes', so perfect and young they make my knees buckle on their hinges. There should be a band in Scotland now like this. I'd pay my money. They rip the shit, as JP says. Ha, who was talking about amber? Big Brother: I haven't been watching it but am fond of Goss now, perhaps he reminds me of Certain People I Know. I get sad thinking about Cameron, there seems no way he will retire back to the islands now. I'm probably wrong. The strange resurgence of video games in our house, a mess of falling masonry under a papier-mache sky; giant snowballs, clockhands, american foodstuffs, drumbeats. Morning comes soon, but not too soon. Marcy looks like a million dollar chimney sweep in her urchin hat. It's amazing how quickly you can get music nowadays. I agree with Joni right now, songs are like tatoos. Lotsa laughs. Sorry, I just thought I'd write. Love from Alasdair xx. _________________________________________________________________ Express yourself with cool emoticons - download MSN Messenger today! http://www.msn.co.uk/messenger +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: You're trying to fool somebody but you're only fooling yourself
by Mark Hester 06 Jul '03

06 Jul '03

Hello! Its good to be back! The last few weeks have been very busy, both work-wise and socially and so its great to finally have an opportunity to sit down and recall it all. So here it is, a chronological history in reverse, like Felts Absolute Classic Masterpieces. Yesterday, I went down to a pub in Iffley, just outside Oxford, where I met up with two quiz team mates for an all-day music event and barbecue to celebrate the landlords 38th birthday. Apparently, the inevitably- (and clumsily) named Iffley-stock had happened last year to celebrate old Lizs 50 years on the throne, but I somehow missed hearing about it that time. I arrived at about half-past one to be told that theyd already had two complaints about noise levels from local residents I would guess the more (ahem) mature ones. This did strike me as rather churlish this is a once a year event couldnt they just arrange to be someplace else? I learnt a new word sneck. Apparently it means the latch on a garden gate. This was because I sampled a rather strong dark ale called Sneck Lifter and I said to the barmaid, I dont know what a sneck is and I dont think I want to and she allayed my fears when she told me anyway. Like so many Oxfordshire events, Iffley-stock was very much a family affair, complete with bouncy castle and a raffle to win a mountain bike. The former led to this exchange between my quiz team-mate John (who is, Id guess, in his fifties) and myself: Me: I never went on bouncy castles when I was a kid; I didnt see the point. John: They didnt have them when I was a kid! Me: Yes, I suppose it would be a bit difficult to make them out of Bakelite. As for the music, it was not what I would usually listen to, being a mixture of jazz and soul bands playing mainly covers. Cover bands tend to be either deathly dull or embarrassingly awful, but one of them (bad name alert!) Soul Beaver were actually rather good. In between the acts the recorded music included these bizarre covers of hard rock songs played in a jazz style, including Enter Sandman and Smoke on the Water. Id heard these versions once before but I cant for the life of me remember the name of the perpetrator(s) its the kind of gimmick which tends to have the longevity of the Mike Flowers Pops or Dread Zeppelin. Why do so many publicans in Oxfordshire have Rod Stewart hairstyles? Its something Ive been pondering for some time. They dont seem to have his other attributes though Ive yet to see one accompanied by a six foot blonde. On Friday night, I went to our work summer party. Earlier, Id asked my boss if she was going and was told that she couldnt make it, because her friend had just discovered Britains first ever cave art in Derbyshire (is this anywhere near Emma Coopers village?) and she was going up there for the weekend to look at it! I told her that this excuse for not making the event of the year was guaranteed to be unique. The party was at Freuds, a rather splendid venue which is an old converted church complete with stained glass windows and a Doric arch for those people whose appetite for neo-classicism isnt sated by the Oxford University Press building over the road. Whilst the food and company was good and we had the opportunity to drink vodka and tequila from an ice sculpture of a can-can dancers legs (!), I was disappointed to get absolutely nowhere with a girl Ive had an office crush on for ages. I split up with my girlfriend some two months ago after a relationship which lasted a couple of years and I am now absolutely *hating* being single, something which had never bothered me in the past. I hope that those of you who went to Glasto had a good time. Nobody Reported Back on the rather sparsely attended Hyde Park picnic on Glasto Saturday, so it looks as though the lot falls to me. Present were Paul Healy, Dafyd Strange, Chris Eames and myself. The weather was lovely, but when we arrived at Hyde Park Corner station we discovered that the picnic coincided with a Bon Jovi concert and there were hordes of Bon Jovi fans of all shapes and sizes emerging like giant ants from all the subways and buses in the area! If the Bon Jovi collective were the hay, it was our job to pick out the sinister needles, but despite both Paul and Chris wearing light blue B&S T-shirts (a welcome relief amongst all the RAWK black ones) we failed to spot any so if you turned up at Hyde Park and failed to meet us were really sorry! Later, the London Underground people decided to make the tube station exit only, so we had to trek over to Green Park to get the tube home. The previous Wednesday was the Freaky Trigger Club Nite at Parker Place, Holborn, an unusually decorated bar with fish bowls containing apples instead of fish, gold-leaf picture rails and antique sofas. Lots of sinisterines past and present were there including Archel, Tim H, Mark C, Ken, Liz, Starry, Geoff and Adam. Top choons were supplied by Tom, Steve and Pete (including an old fave of mine from days of yore, Renegade Soundwaves Probably a Robbery) and Mark C imparted the surprising information that people in the US wield their knives & forks differently from those in the UK. The Saturday before was the Charlbury Riverside Free Festival, where lots of local bands played and a couple of them, Black Nielson and Ciccone, were very good indeed. The ones which werent so good provided an opportunity to eat, drink and read the paper (I noticed that there was a guy writing in the Independent called BEN Chu any relation??). An out of control barbecue sent smoke billowing over the site at one point. There were notably more campers than on previous occasions and someone really ought to do something about the fact that the last train leaves for Oxford before the festival finishes ok, so Rock of Travolta are far from being my favourite band, but it was still pissy to have to leave for the station half-way through their set. The day before that, Ian Watson brought How Does It Feel to my local, the Folly Bridge Inn. It was a lovely evening, with a real mix of people. I chatted to ex-sinisterine Matt Willson, who seems to be more into electronic stuff these days, and noticed how there were lots of people I didnt recognise. This is a rarity in Oxford where you get used to seeing the same old crowd. Ian played a couple of what, IMHO, are the top records from the eighties, Weather Prophets Almost Prayed and Felts Sunlight Bathed the Golden Glow. The Dobie Gray track sampled by Spearamint for Sweeping the Nation was another highlight. Anyway, thats enough delving into the past, what of the future? Well, in a couple of weeks, theres another local festival, Truck (can anyone think of any other festivals which have spawned a record label?) at Steventon, a village with a railway line but no station, so travel arrangements are going to be interesting. British Sea Power and the Butterflies of Love are playing.I cant remember who else. The following week theres a family reunion where will I will meet up with cousins I havent seen for years and their partners, which will be nice. In an attempt to find an excuse to stay in and not spend too much money, I have resolved to attempt the gargantuan task of listing all my CDs and MCs (I still have quite a few of the latter) on a spreadsheet. Does that sound geeky to you (in the words of Sellar & Yeatman, be honest). Surely keeping all your CDs stacked in alphabetical order is more geeky and Ill never do that so nerr. Ive been listening to the Field Mice comp Where'd You Lean to Kiss that Way? a lot lately. The Sarah office was a stones throw from my uni hall of residence you know (I didnt know at the time, but only found out when I saw the picture and Sarah history on the Shinkansen site). What other bands on the Sarah roster are worth checking out? I know there was a band called the Orchids, not to be confused with Baines and Bramahs ex-Fall band Blue Orchids, were they any cop? A few replies to other peoples posts now: Robin mentioned look-a-likes on the bus. Here in Oxford we have a driver who looks like a fatter Bill Clinton and another who looks like Graeame Souness. He didnt mention being at the Nottingham HDIF (but that is him in the pictures, isnt it? There are pics of me at the Oxford one, FWIW). I thought Dirty Vicars post was going to be about Durutti Column from the subject line (though its Lotta isnt it, rather than Lutta?) but even though they played Glasto he didnt mention them in the end. I know Lixi saw them I found out in a roundabout way via Michael Jones on ilx. Can anyone tell me about their set? Contrary to what Christine Irene said, I cant blame my blog for my lack of appearance on sinister. I havent updated my blog since April and its beginning to seem like something of an albatross. I really prefer writing to sinister and reserving the blog for record reviews and suchlike. Bye for now, Mark. ______________________________________________________________ For up-to-the-minute music news, reviews and specials visit http://www.nme.com Get free e-mail (anyname(a)nme.com) now at http://www.nmemail.com The sender of this e-mail is NOT an employee or associate of NME, nme.com or any other IPC magazine. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Mario Party 3. Three times the Party. Zero times the hassle.
by Matthew Henderson 06 Jul '03

06 Jul '03

I'm going to enter the GREAT DRYER DEBATE '03 (print the legend) by voicing my deepest admiration for dyers. Fantastic machines they are, and now that I live without one, I can fully appreciate the gentle hum of wrinkle-free clothes. I figured it would be something like a dishwasher, which i live fine without (especially since women will do it for me. they love it!). I enjoyed Jay Eckard's description of late night drives in the South. I'm listening to Yo La Tengo's "I Can Hear the Heart..." as we speak, which was a staple of my late night interstate drives back in the day. Oooh, how I yearn for it. How it all looks the same at night, and even in the day, and it was fantastic, because I was actually there. Speaking of champion beers, Is anyone else absolutely DYING to hear the new Belle and Sebastian record? I can't wait to hear what kind of effect Mr. Horn will have. I can imagine a chilly evening in the park, shutting my eyes as wave after wave of synth washes over me, stuart's voice soaring...it could be brilliant. Are they going to the "PROG" back in "Indie"? Hopefully, Yes. Moving backwards, I have assignments for you American lads out there in the audience. Yes, that means you. I want everyone to fulfill at least ONE of the following tasks. Failure will result in expulsion from the list. One person will order and consume 2 Chalupa Supremes without tomatos, each adorned lovingly with Fire sauce. Mountain Dew Code Red as your beverage. This is non-negotiable. One person will go to Denny's between the hours of 1 am and 4 am and order either a Meat Lovers Skillet with Scrambled eggs or the Buffalo Chicken Strips with Ranch Dressing. Both of these must be accompanied with a Cherry Coke. Casual flirtations with the no-doubt minging staff are optional. One person in the South will order an ice cold Sweet Tea and drink three cups (free refills a must). Even better if out of a styrofoam cup or a jar. One person will drink a cup of ice cold lemonade from Chik-fil-a. One person will go to Krystal at 1 am, slightly inebriated, and order a number one without pickles. Drink is your choice. One person will go to a mexcian restaurant and eat the free chips and salsa with a tall glass of sprite. Meal is up to you. One person will order a house salad with Ranch dressing and Crutons. Okay, please report to Lokar20(a)hotmail.com with results and then head to the Rewards room. I never wonder what it would be like if belle and sebastian and perhaps some select sinister people were put into the Big Brother house. If i did I would probably find it amusing, or I would be depressed at how bored I must be. Still, who would you evict? I think Stevie would win. He would actually PLAY THE GAME. Not the experience. More importantly, who would cake on the blush(er)? I've been enjoying the three summer ep's (I call them that..i might have read that somewhere...someone clarify) to an extent that I haven't reached with the band for a good long while. I still think "Put the Book..." is magical. The boys have gone digi-dull. Let's see how it all turns out. I'm excited. _________________________________________________________________ Add photos to your messages 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: i do the best immitation of myself
by Christine Irene 06 Jul '03

06 Jul '03

hello my lovelies. it's been awhile, yeah? things have been tre quiet round the sinister block of late, i hope this is due to all of you being so happy and successful that you just can't find time to write. it's funny how things happen. last weekend we had one mutha of a family reunion. i think there were about 180 of us in all...perhaps slightly fewer. at any rate, what would a family gathering be without crying, upset, heartache and verbal jabs that only those who know you well can inflict? yes, there were plenty of all of the above, but a lot of good came as well. i made amends with an aunt with whom i have been feuding. a different aunt told me that i have become hateful lately. i don't want to be hateful. granted, i think she was looking too deeply into some things, but i was definitely being stubborn and petty. so i approached my aunt, apologised, she apologised, we both cried and hugged. now things are swell again. my cousin anne, it was brought to my attention, has been feeling as though i was ignoring or shunning her. i was not doing either. she and i had a lovely chat, and again, i cried.....and we concluded that she and i had no problems, it was a matter of our family trying to instigate things that were just not there. i am really glad that those events took place though, as I feel better prepared to begin shaping myself into the person i wish to be. in other news; i had a nice chat with my uncle jim today...he is amazing. it began with my asking him about some financial things and ended with this life affirming "the problem with you speech" that really made me see some things that i have pushed to the back of my psyche of late. he told me that i need to worry about getting through school and getting a "career" more than i need to worry about money. and he is right. he told me that, while i may well have a medical condition causing my digestive upsets, i am also very depressed. which is right. he said that i need to realise some type of potential because, intellectually i have been given more than most. and he is right. so now i sit here, knowing what i knew before, but admitting it to myself, and someone else, for the first time. it's time to stop feeling sorry for myself. set a goal. focus on it. get it. don't let anything get in my way. etc. so i have a task list all set up (on my new phone and everything....my old phone broke all the sudden...grrr) so anyway. things to do. call school and be persistent about obtaining a place in the course for fall. call about debt consolidation. start exercising regularly again. stop approaching my finances with a "i'm never going to get out of this" mentality and, instead, opt for a "this is going to take some time, but i will get out of it" mentality instead. so enough of that. where have the regulars gone? dirty vicar? ken chu? the rachels? mark? it is just eerily quiet round sinister. see, those blogs are bad for sinister. i know that lots of people find their necessary outlets via blog now, so there is nothing to say to sinister. hmm?? have any of you read "The Hipsters Handbook?" it's fun....i s'pose if you take it in the tongue-in-cheek manner it is intended, all is fine. if you take it as an "I must live my life according to these hipster personality types" you will be a very one dimensional person. only one mention of the belles...which surprised me a little. and it was a negative one at that. in the BIPSTER personality description under LOATHES...it lists B&S. hmm... i think, if anything, i am an amalgam of all hipster types with some others thrown in. hipsters don't like prada. i do. hipsters don't like burberry. i do. so i am a what then? don't answer that. :O) ah well. i hope that this finds all of you well. love to all of you. extra love to the usual suspects. dv, ken, jinnifer, alex (are you alive?), chris cobb (are you alive?),eoin, and anyone whose name escapes me at present...oh yeah, rachel and ben fruitloop-apps :o) love, ~stine....a new woman __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? SBC Yahoo! DSL - Now only $29.95 per month! http://sbc.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: What would you say?
by Jesse Chanin 05 Jul '03

05 Jul '03

Gail drives to work in a practical, sea green car and always gets the best parking space, right next to the back door as if to assert the prominence in the company she doesnt possess. She waits a moment behind the wheel, runs a hand through her graying hair, and enters the through warehouse with a purpose. Some women in marketing and PR always wait for her and they form an outspoken caustic group in the lobby while the secretary eyes them warily. At 7:15, the other women return to their desks, their coffees, and their red chairs on wheels, and Gail walks back to the warehouse where I see her for the first time from my self-conscious perch on the counter next to scattered exact-o knives and styrofoam. She smiles. Mornin, she drawls in the typical Maine accent and I wince. Hi, I say shyly and the day begins. We spend eight hours a day on a concrete floor picking books off shelves and standing at a counter putting them into boxes, and she tells me all sorts of things. We work quickly and efficiently but she pauses every time someone enters the warehouse to say Hello & bestow a brief wave of her hands, sickly white things flaked with layers of dry skin from the cardboard we fondle all day. There is always pop music on the radio. I start to think about the upcoming break. I was a coke addict for twenty-six years, she says. But I cant for the life of me quit smoking. My husband cant either, and he did heroin. (Around here the woman from the packaging office on prozac interrupts us with something inaudible, bumbling about around the computer with the air somehow of a confused rabbit. She used to get really angry before she went on the prozac, gossips Gail. Once I accidentally took her pencil outside and she *exploded* at me, threw a stapler at my head. We speculate over how she managed to smash up the drivers side of her car by hitting a pole on the side of the road while not having been driving on the *wrong* side of the road.) I once got poison ivy on my ass, she tells me. You want to know how? I dont want to know how. Well, my husband got it on his knees, lets just put it that way! I wish I were reading. Hours are lost, hours pass forever. There are company meetings where everyone makes fun of the Arabs across the street & Gail leans over in her God Bless America t-shirt and tells me about how she used to live in that building and those Arabs had been through five different refugee camps before finally coming to the US. And they didnt do coke or nothin. They play Jewel on the radio, some song that my dad loved and I stop working and listen. It reminds me of too much. I make a mental note to buy the album for pure nostalgic value. I always listen to this station, Gail says. I wish I had headphones. We talk about Steinbeck, spina bifida and Oprah. She tells me about how she accidentally singed off her eyebrows and bangs once when she was really high (And thats why I dont do drugs anymore!). She grew up in Western Massachusetts. I tell her I have cousins in Massachusetts, from Rockport and Cape Cod. Oh, she scoffs. Rit-zeeey. I blush. We dont visit them much. Im only eighteen. Im going to college in New York City next year. I needed a summer temp job. Shes in drug rehabilitation, therapy, and AA at forty-six and has been working at the book warehouse for going on five years. Her whole body looks defeated, all her joints out of proportion, silver caps on her teeth, and a wrinkled-in sneer. She talks politics without mentioning Chomsky. What? she exclaims suddenly one day. I turn. What? Oh, I thought someone was behind me. But it was just my mom. Your mom? Yes, well you see, theres a history of witchcraft on her side of the family and since she died she comes back to visit me often. Oh. Er She came a lot right after she died, but now its much more periodic. Just sometimes. Oh, I say. Thats, uh, pretty crazy. I blush and hurry away on any errand. But what would *you* have said? (Im taking suggestions.) She doesnt talk about ghosts after that. Instead she tells me how she loves cross-stitching and always has since she was a child. I zone out to Matchbox 20 on the radio Whats *this*? she accuses suddenly, pointing skeptically at a particularly high stack of textbooks. The leaning tower of -- *BOOKS*?? I get bored just piling them neatly, I explain. This is more uh artistic and it adds You wont think its very artistic when youre picking them all up off the floor. Well that adds adventure, dont you think? An element of *risk*? She eyes me warily. Ive also arranged the boxes in a carefully orchestrated jenga-esque pattern on the table & had been getting absurdly angry at co-workers when they mindlessly ruined it with hasty & thoughtlessly placed boxes & I pray she doesnt notice. I shrug. It gives me something to do. *Ive got my eggs, Ive got my pancakes too/ Ive got my maple syrup, everything but you* sings Jewel on the radio and everything feels so heavy suddenly: Gails eyes on the red welts on my arms and hands caused by the cardboard and walking into various pointy metal things around the room, my ripped sneakers, my hunched shoulders, my simultaneous need for her approval and disgust at her situation. She shakes her head & dispels everything. Youre so weird. Oh yes maam. I laugh. Maybe I wont buy the Jewel CD after all. ***** that's all sinister. have a nice saturday. x jesse _________________________________________________________________ The new MSN 8: advanced junk mail protection and 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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