- Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: New T-shirts, "Max" for sale, Q&A's etc. ...
by Katrina House 14 Oct '02

14 Oct '02

Hello all, It's all go at Banchory HQ at the moment! Firstly, the brown "Graffiti" logo T-shirts that Chris designed are now in stock - a beige print on a chocolate brown t-shirt in Small, Medium, Large and Extra-Large sizes. Also on the Merchie front, the promised playing cards will be with us shortly - stay tuned for more details soon! You can view and purchase the new shirt online in the "T-shirts and Badges" section of http://www.belleandsebastian.co.uk/home Secondly, Stuart is auctioning his beloved car "Max" for charity! The reasoning and spiel behind his decision can be found in the "News" section of the above-mentioned site. The auction is taking place on e-Bay and you can bid online at http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=1777807925 And lastly, Stuart has been plugging on with the Q&A's so there is a second lot of responses online now, along with quite a few diary entries of what he's been up to recently. Keep sending your questions in and please be patient for those who haven't received a response yet! The Diary and Q&A's can be found in the "Writing" section at http://www.belleandsebastian.co.uk/home Cheers, B&S and Banchory. 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: i lost my shed to a starship trooper
by ian 14 Oct '02

14 Oct '02

a patch of scorched earth. in films, a patch of scorched earth always means something. if i was fox mulder, and this was the x-files, i'd touch the ash, sniff it, and pronounce it evidence of some government conspiracy. fuck that. i've got all the evidence i need already. the local newspapers have reported mass-sightings of a unidentified flying object over selly oak some time on thursday night. as i headed down to london to see saint etienne (of which more in a later post, i'm sure..), something looking suspiciously like a garden shed lifted vertically into the sky above the fair city of birmingham. and then, it vanished. along, it seems, with sister janice slejj. sister janice turned up a while ago, and i kindly allowed her to reside in my airing cupboard, and then in my shed. now, she appears to have gone, leaving only a hole; a pile of batteries and what looks suspiciously like a bag full of jarlsberg rind behind her. accept it, ian, go with the cosmic flow. it has been that sort of week:- over the past couple of weeks, i've been enjoying what i thought was a lively and interesting correspondence with a texan 243 piece band called the polyphonic spree. today, i received this letter from their management: 'Dear Mr. Anscombe Consider this your final warning, before legal proceedings are instigated against you. Do not attempt to contact my clients again...blah blah blah...inappropriate...blah blah blah...threats..blah..genitals...yawn...witter...witter...do not, and never have, indulge in the type of behaviour to which you refer...blah blah....artists have a right to privacy and entering their homes in the middle of the night, dressed as a frenchman and asking them to feel your baton is a serious contravention of this...blah blah...not as if you can even play an instrument - the maracas really aren't that hard to master...blah blah... nipple clamps; erection; meringue; stimulation of the pancreas.....' on and ON it goes. goodness, some people have NO sense of humour. and, anyway, its not even as if its true..i wasn't dressed as a frenchman, i was dressed as marlene dietrich. some people see a beret and jump to all sorts of conclusions.. under neath ze lamp post by ze da da da.. darling i rem-em-ber the way la la la la.. some artists don't seem to understand that, underlying their worldwide success, has to be some modicum of RESPECT for their fans. its just like the time i stuck my hand down jarvis cocker's trousers in a crowded lift. when you become FAMOUS and a CELEBRITY, you must accept that people are entitled to DO that to you.. and THEN there was the time that... no, enough of past horrors..memories have a way of crashing into each other, don't they? you start off climbing into a seemingly innocuous one, thinking you know where its going, and before long you're involved in a 28-reverie pile-up, buried underneath a multi-layered mash of mental metal. and this is the worst time of year for memories. the darkness, even in the day time, drives us within ourselves. we go inside ourselves instinctively, knowing the darkest days are yet to come and the strength to face it full on has to be sought deep within. this year, though, i'm going to try and smile at the dark, rather than wish it away. it has its own beauty, so much more subtle and fascinating than that of the sun. perhaps that means staying away from memories, focussing on the now. some people would tell you the now is all you've got. but i don't feel like talking about them today. a cold philosophy, that, the idea that the past must die every second. if we don't have the past, we have nothing to build the present on. and everything needs foundations, no matter how insubstantial. if my garden shed had had better foundations, it might not be whizzing around the galaxy right now, with an excommunicated kleptomaniac nun in it. (then again, it probably would. at some point in their life, MOST people will find a member of the clergy stealing attempting to steal a wooden outhouse from them. i'm sure it has already happened to most of you. you've been around.) they know this already, ian, there's no need to tell them. smile at the dark, toss the rejection letter into the bin, plant bulbs in the scorched earth. allow something to grow from the mistakes of the past. i shall start my own cult. we shall wear WHITER ROBES and play BETTER MUSIC than the polyphonic spree. i shall practice looking at my memories, but not allowing them to overwhelm me. i shall look inside myself for strength, not for weakness, and admire the beauty that even bleakness has to offer. and i shall make sure i don't let any more nuns in my house. i hope this will make me happier. have loveliness, my dears xx 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: The season has arrived
by robin stout 14 Oct '02

14 Oct '02

Saturday was too sunny to be true. I should have realised it was just the sun giving a final smile as its nose twitched and it prepared to sneeze. And on Sunday it did. It sneezed everywhere, all over my house and my bike, all over my hood and through the cracked soles of my brown leather shoes. My umbrella got caught by the howling crosswind every time I passed a side street. It blew inside out and I had to drag it back into shape. It flapped limply like a bat with a broken wing and held its course like a bicycle wheel with bent and twisted spokes. All the way home there was a trail of dead umbrellas, abandoned in doorways, thrown into hedges, sprawled in the middle of the road. I honestly thought I'd be swept away and end my days at the bottom of a drain somewhere, drowned and broken like one of those umbrellas. I didn't think the sky had the room for so much rain. Maybe this is just Wales. Don't know. Now all the coal's run out in the valleys perhaps they should work out a way of selling rain somehow. Rain energy? Will that work? We certainly have an inexhaustible supply here. Did anyone see John Otway singing "Bunsen Burner" on Top of the Pops? After Justin Fucking Timberlake and No Fucking Doubt I was beginning to lose the will to live, but then he came on and showed the spirit of Rock 'n' Roll is still alive and kicking. It's a shame it takes a 50 year old bloke with a boney chest to prove it. Well that got me feeling happier again and made me think of Belle and Sebastian's well deserved Brit Award - the last great rock moment - when a trailer came on for a new chat show on BBC2 Wales which is presented by Stuart Cable - you know, the one from the Stereophonics with the big scary perm. It looked dreadful; terrifying even. No wonder it's only on late night BBC2 Wales. That made me feel depressed again so I made myself a milky drink to get over the trauma. Blah blah blah, shut up robin. Anyway, I have a little proposal. Miss Annie Tremp and I will be having a mini Sinister picnic in Cardiff on Saturday, so if any sinisterenes are going to be in the area you're quite welcome to come along. I haven't worked out when or where it's going to be yet, but just send me an email if you're interested and I'll work something out. You may need to bring your wellies, though, or possibly a small boat if this rain keeps up. bye Robin x _________________________________________________________________ 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: keeping a low profile in a tiny swimming pool
by Gordon 13 Oct '02

13 Oct '02

BLOGS Ok, I promise to put my ramblings at http://www.rouss.blogspot.com/ next time. BOOKS A quiet Sunday afternoon. Autumn is definitely present: mounds of leaves on the pavement to slosh through, a damp but strangely luxuriant-with-scent bite to the air. I've been sitting in Exchange Place in Glasgow, sipping an iced latte amongst the honey coloured sandstone, revealed through arches and over crenellations, past friezes and amongst other intricacies of eclectic Victorian devising, reading Mario Vargas Llosa's 'the Notebooks of Don Rigoberto'. This is, in many ways, a filthy book which I am compelled to recommend, such is the pleasure it is giving me for, amongst the hints of deviancy constructed with such sophisticated eloquence they're impossible to resist (although denial is one of the most refined piquancies on offer) the book is liberally scattered with hilariously illiberal rants against such things as sportsmen, the Rotary Club, nature and sexual determinancy. It's also a handy little primer on the life of artist Egon Schiele. In conversation last night I happened to mention this book and, when I confessed that I'd also just finished Michel Houellebecq's 'Platform', another and now infamously illiberal book of smut and was about to start work on 'Lolita', one might get the impression that my reading material was indicative of someone who's interests were confined to, let's say, only certain areas of life. Far from it. I'm also reading the prison diaries of no, not that sleazy chancer of a politician, but Albert Speer, Hitler's architect and, later, his Minister of Armaments and Production. Having read most of Gitta Sereny's masterpiece 'Albert Speer: His Battle With Truth' I have approached his own diaries with an impression of a man who isn't so much evil as blinded by ambition or more accurately, a devotion to Hitler and his dreams. A man who, initially at least, remained unaware or, more culpably, willfully esconced from the uglier extents of his idol's vision. '...God's anger broke through the clouds, And spilt the cargo for all to see: The fault of the sailor; The fault of he who asks No questions, About the cargo he is carrying' as Daniel Lanois sings in 'Fisherman's Daughter'. There is a certain ghoulish fascination to be had in reading a first hand and vivid recollection of a picnic with the two of them, rug, hamper from the trunk of a large Mercedes and all, one afternoon in the vicinity of Bamberg with Hitler discoursing in admiration on the strategic machinery of the Catholic Church, having just met the abbot of Banz monastery. We are also party to the role call, in the early hours of October 16th, 1946, of the condmned members of the high command. If we are to believe Melanie McDonagh's reading of Sereny's book, Speer would have been amongst them had his biographer been one of the Nuremberg judges. However, according to another commentator it seems that she also developed for him a strong affection, even a love. Speer clearly remained a man, to the last, of estimable charm, and not of the sleazy variety. WINCHESTER Last night a fair number of the Scottish Sinister crew were out at the Winchester club. I was too stubbornly shy to dance. Choosing instead to sit staring smilelessly at the wallpaper was, as I became increasingly aware, a rather stupid move. However, hopeless company 'though I proved to be, even *Caitlin* started to dance, which is saying something, and I spied Stacey in conversation with Stevie Jackson (or which one was it? I can never remember who's who). Ken, as always, was a source of good cheer and I think all in all it turned out to be a pretty fine evening and quite busy for the club. I shalln't mention everyone I know who was there but safe to say one left their company with a warm feeling, which is the making of such events for me. I'll also thank Alley, Carey, Gavin, Lucy, Sarah (alphabetic order, see?) and anyone else who helped organise the event. Someone also gave me a little kiss... when's the next Winchester? Friday 15th November. DRAINAGE Necessity and sufficient dedication to detail can render almost any subject interesting, I contest. After all, how else is work tolerable? Having spent weeks designing the superstructure of a small fitness suite which is to be slotted into what is called 'the beer garden' at a high school in the farthest western reaches of the Glasgow postal district, I have taken some pleasure in offloading certain aspects of the design work to other consultants, namely mechanical, electrical and structural engineers. I also attempted to tease some free work out of a manufacturer of cold formed steel joists, but they deemed the project too finicky and trivial to be worth their attention. Next time I'll append a fictional series of 20 identical bays to the real, complex bit and see if they remain so snooty. Anyway, it was a slight shock to realise that I had to design my own drainage system. However, I'm gradually getting into it or at least figuratively digging around about it in the vicinity of three manholes. One of them, I know, connects to the nearest rainwater outlets. I'm taking the gamble that at least one of the remaining two will take waste of the other sort. Next, I made a rough calculation of the peak flows in order to size the pipe and gradient, specified it to be made of cast iron so it won't break and then drew a little sketch showing said pipe laid in a bed of tamped fill to ensure it's comfort. Above ground, the pipes are connected by various routes to vents and valves to ensure the whole hydraulic system doesn't suck (literally) too much. PLAYLIST As Pete Waterman has recently noted, classical music is full of great tunes. However, classical music has, in turn, been inspired by pop tunes. One such is 'La Follia', which had the whole of eighteenth century Venice rocking, which is kind of apt since it started life as an Iberian fertility dance ( 'La Follia' means 'wild, empty-headed' evidently). Whilst pop makes things shorter, classical tends to prefer the other direction and hence the 'theme and variations' is born. There's a lovely version of this amongst Vivaldi's trio sonatas, but I forgot my CD of these in the back of a taxi once, so here's another version by Geminiani. If it's pure romantic sugariness you're after, look no further than the second movement of Chopin's first piano concerto. Oh, it's so *yearnsome*. I think you might even be able to attempt a sort of waltz to it as well and it has lots of embracing and, if one is in luck, kissing moments in it too. I should request it at next month's Winchester ;) At present, however, this stereo's repeat play function is shacked up to 'I've Told Every Little Star', from the soundtrack to Mulholland Drive. CHEESY SEGUEWAY I'd have to tell the stars through a thick layer of cloud this evening, but it's certainly getting dark enough for them to be coming out, which inclines me to think I've spent longer that that 'fifteen minutes' again. So I'll stop. Gordon KEEPING A LOW PROFILE IN A TINY SWIMMING POOL The place I was staying last night has a tiny swimming pool reached along an even tinier, to the point of claustrophobic, windowless, basement corridor. As I swam up and down my thoughts were on avoiding bumping my head against it's ends. I didn't get much exercise but I did get a subject line. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: stevie jackson playing drumchapel this afternoon!!!!
by Brian McNeill 12 Oct '02

12 Oct '02

this afternoon stevie jackson is playing a few tunes in a marquee tent in drumchapel shopping centre carpark. i shoulda told youse all sooner i guess so i apologise. . . also stevie and struan are hostinga songwriters workshop in drumchapel on wed. ill bring details along with me to the tap later cya brian _________________________________________________________________ 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: "Oh that is so LAME! You will PAY for your use of inappropriate dialogue!"
by Miss Marianna Longmire 12 Oct '02

12 Oct '02

Do you know what's great? Those egg.com adverts where their advice on saving car insurance is to attach a cardboard box onto someone else's car, suggesting you drive around in that instead - thus sparing you of insurance payouts. And your dignity. I heart those adverts. Do you know what isn't great? Gum in Jet Set Radio is not great. She's hip looking, and does this great little dance when you select her, but really, her tagging skills are just ridiculous. And yet, I can't give her up. It's a masochistic love/hate thing. Do you know why New York rocks my world? New York /totally/ rocks my world because: * On cable, they have this insane program called "Undressed". It's all about shagging, and gay footballers and gay chess players and the size of one's package and feeder fetishes. It is, officially, one of the greatest television shows ever. * Those wonderful sinister kids Laurel, Brian and Matt will welcome you into their homes where you will watch the premiere of the new Joss Whedon series, after which they will ply you with sordid gossip and discuss the wonders (disasters?) of nerve dating. * There's this great bar in Brooklyn called Union Pool. It's full of achingly stylish yet completely lovely hep cats dancing to rock and roll. A boy in your posse will win the style stakes by wearing a Paul Frank pyjama top as a shirt and you will steal snapshots of girls snogging in the photo booth, which you will later make photocopies of and stick on lampposts in central London. * Fashion rules NYC. Wake up! The Strokes look is /so/ over. It's all about 1920's lingerie, yo. Also, the trucker's cap is /totally/ in. Muh brethren's attire has finally become vogue. * You and your homeboy stumble across a small park in the centre of Chinatown where old men play Chinese Chess with great ferocity and name calling. Later, we sit at a nearby table and play Go. Slowly, a few of the aforementioned gaming masters come over and watch, shaking their heads and tutting as they figure out my lack of strategy. I refuse to place a stone whilst they're there and my ass gets go-kicked again. But there are turtles in buckets and Powerpuff Girls paraphernalia to look at, so my disappointment is short-lived. * Entering a street festival in Little Italy, your posse will discover a freak show which features the visual delights of: "The World's Smallest Horse!", "The World's Smallest Lady!" and the "Snake Woman!" - The head of a beautiful lady, the body of a large plastic python. It totally rules. * You jump on a random subway train only to discover your carriage has been overrun by a posse of 13-year-old skater homeboys. They're completely hopeless but their enthusiasm for skating up and down the aisle and grinding on the seats is commendable. One of them will declare this the "Soul Train." G and I applaud. * You get to see the first episode of the new series of Buffy. * YOU GET TO BE IN THE AUDIENCE OF THE RICKI LAKE SHOW! Whilst waiting to be led into the studio, one of the show's producers will ask you, "If it's a serious topic, please, whatever you do, don't shout out, 'You big fat bitch! '" Everyone sighs. Once inside, it was clear that behind the scenes was far more entertaining than the show itself, even /with/ the "Tupac is alive" obsessive - "My boyfriend looks a bit like Tupac, but I wish he'd try harder. I dunno, like maybe wear bandanas like Tupac does." During the breaks, Ricki's sidekick Darlene was our entertainment, a lady who proved to be genuinely, insanely funny. And she fell down some stairs in a comedic manner - accidentally! This woman is a genius. Later, the audience erupted into a pop-idol like singing competition to win t-shirts and a boy two rows in front of you will bump and grind his booty throughout the /entire/ show. And then, it was back to London. Which was GRATE! And do you know why? Because it was filled with pub gatherings, and quiz nights, and insider gossip about Angelina Jolie, and realising your celebrity crush now looks like a 60-year-old version of Jeffrey Archer - ugh, and there was picnicking and Tigermilking. Tigermilking was great. I, unfortunately, was a little too inebriated to pay much attention to other people's debaucherous actions, but I /do/ remember that everyone looked gorgeous and the DJs were fantastic. Daphne and Celeste! Dolly Parton! Nelly! Le Tigre! What a fab selection. One might call it eclectic. I'd call it the tits. Isn't this post great? No? Apologies. Miss Marianna Longmire +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 particle in the box.
by Stefano [Steady-State] 11 Oct '02

11 Oct '02

Dear Sinisters I´ve been spinning all around some European countries lately, mostly because my institution is quite prone to send me to away towards partners and play around with the other people machine. I´m suspecting they are quite happy, indeed, when I´m not around walking like a peasant through the corridors and eventually eating yellow pencils. I´m also suspecting their real aim is to use me as a secret weapon to undermine the ongoing other group super secret research: just placing a nightmare of a half-a-mess and half-a-theoretician element, what an awful blend, in someone else´s instrument rooms...mhmmh... I shall start considering this option more seriously and try to find a way to escape my next supposed-to-be-destructive expedition, which might eventually be directed towards Germany. Considering previous journeys that make it quite a round trip along an almost closed ring through, Italy, France, Holland, Great Britain and finally Germany, which can eventually provide the chance for a full electronic delocalisation over the continent. At the recent St. James factor picnic, in between the Chickfactor gigs, while having a roasted chicken [what else for the chickfactor... of couse vegetarians were dispensed and could have quite an amount of apples&plums] someone, I can´t remember with which intent, mentioned the Heisenberg´s indetermination principle* and the "cat in the box". I actually think it is Liz fault, but that eventually triggered me to give a kind of explanation, which is a vain effort, firstly because I am all but good in explaining things, in general, secondly because actually none really bothered to know what the hell and indetermination principle could actually be. I think the cat in the box is still the better approximation to an intuitive understanding. Nonetheless this principle can be actually be made rather trivial as it says that you can´t know the energy of a particle if you know it position and viceversa , if the particle mall enough. Considering I am probably not small enough to be considered a particle, classical Newtonian mechanic can be more readily applied and hence related energy and position being rather predictable, on the basis of {increasing} weight and {decreasing} strength applied to by what used to be a muscle- skeleton system. O the other hand if I put an eye back on the calendar it turns out that the position is not actually that predictable as it was supposed to be, therefore giving some support to the idea that the statistical approach should probably work a bit better. In turn it means that, considering geographical delocalisation, with a certain probability I can find myself located wherever in the beforehand mentioned countries, suspiciously including the British Channel. I think that is gonna be eventually a bit more problematic, but still, I fear, in principle a well-defined probability. That makes me wonder where is my house Take care Stefano PS: riding on city buses on a tube strike is sad. Here's a prediction: when you have stories to tell, you'll tell them. D.G. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Steptoe never had it so good...
by Jay Eckard 11 Oct '02

11 Oct '02

Hey Sinister folk... I decided, for a change, to stop standing quietly in the corner and actually be noticeable for a few minutes. It's been rough for me lately. Over a month ago, I with no warning, lost my job and my roommate. I've spent the last few weeks desperately searching for both and being largely disappointed. For a few days, I got a job at a posh French place, but they didn't like me and sent me along. But now, I've got a little job at a market, but the next little while will be tough as I pay back all the bills I've accrued. And I found a new roommate I quite like. So I'm happy. Or happier, rather. If you've never been skint/unemployed, it's quite odd. You'd think it's all easy, being on the dole and looking for work. But really, you stamp around quite a bit, and have to smile so much it all goes fake after a while. And it's much more difficult to be fake. You calculate all the time how much you spend and how much you've got. You pawn stuff to pay the bills, so you decide what's really worth keeping and what's going away forever. Really, I'd rather just work. If you're really lucky, you've got people about to make it better. They listen nicely as you bitch, which really is great (you know who you are). Other people are quite nice and buy you drinks (how I wish I knew more of these). If you're smart, you find things to do. Like write book proposals for BBC books or cook shortbread cookies. Or even be a disc jockey. I have done all these. It also brings me to something close to a point: New Music. I always assumed I'd hear about the new Reindeer Section album, Son of Evil Reindeer, here. It came stateside a few weeks ago, and I've not seen anyone mention it. I think it's quite good and recommend it. People seemed to like it when it was on air. Comment as you'd like. There's also a new album out that I'm crazy about. It's by a group called Irving, called Beautiful Ideas. It's five singer/songwriters who've always worked alone jammed together. The resulting disk is wildly disperate in styles, but each piece is great. The track "Did I Ever Tell You I'm in Love with Your Girlfriend" is particularly grand. And then there's always the old standby of Sergio Mendes and Brasil 66 (or 67 or 68 or 69...) for those who like Jose Feliciano. Check out their version of Fool on a Hill or Scarborough Fair from their album called Fool on a Hill (yes, it is a good Beatles cover). So yeah, l'Autre Jay -- "The Posby falls into a Trance In which it does a little Dance." Edward Gorey _________________________________________________________________ MSN Photos is the easiest way to share and print your photos: http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: Northern souls
by Paulo Stinsoni 10 Oct '02

10 Oct '02

Hello, It's my first post to this group, so be gentle with me. I've read/forwarded/deleted lots of your emails and ramblings so it's your turn to fiddle with my bits (data bits of course) in your own personal way. Now, I just wanted to know who out there is a north eastern sinisterian. I often feel on my own in Darlington, oh I do have friends, but not with the same love of things sweet. Anyone out there from the north east? Another question too. Anyone remember a band called Strawberrry Story? Must end there and get back to work. There will be more posts though, just you wait and see. Bye then Paulo _________________________________________________________________ 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: Chickfactor, Glasgow meet-up and general smuttiness
by Lucy Alder 09 Oct '02

09 Oct '02

Dear old Sinister, Youre looking well. No, really! I notice a flush in your cheeks. Who wants to know the gossip from the Chickfactor Black & White ball, then? I suppose, seeing as nobody else can be arsed, I ought to oblige. What a chore, eh? Ha! Of course not! Heres the goss: Sinisterines past and present in attendance were Me, Ally Cook, Nal, David Moore, Sally Moore, Pam Berry, Steady Mike, Stevie T, Tim Hopkins, Ben Apps, Rachel Sunnyset, Stefano, BG Ian, BG Mark, Michael Grant, Gav Dunbar, Sarah Dorman, Starfire Dave, Carey Lander, The Pinefox, The Gingerfox, Andy Dean, Beth, Liz Daplyn, Robster, Ken Chu, Martin, Matt, Rich and the inevitable tons of people who are probably my best mates but I still cant remember them. So I guess you can see how it was that we practically filled the hall with just us. Phew! Bush Hall was extremely elegant rose lighting on the stage, chandeliers over the audience, lots of red velvet just dreamy. I could have danced all night had the floor not been carpeted. Never mind, we sipped our drinks most delicately and crossed our ankles and sat and listened very politely. Mummy Honey would have been proud. And, of course, there was plenty to listen to. In fact, eight bands who were all very, very, very good. I only dared go to the bar between acts for fear of missing something, so ended up fairly sober (not such a bad thing seeing as I was also fairly skint). My favourites? HmmCamera Obscura were deserved headliners on the first night I think they were what one might call tight. They played tons of new songs but nobody felt cheated because they were so *good*. And Carey sang! Pipas, who provided Ally and me with board and lodging for the weekend, were also fabulous. I notice their website has some downloadable stuff: http://www.plumasbouncer.com/llc/index.php The best band of the weekend, though, were the Pines who made several of the audience *actually cry*. Can you believe it? Words really cant describe how they were, so I wont try. I just hope they come up and play in Glasgow soon (hint). OK, will that do? Now all that remains is for somebody to spill the beans about Tigermilking. Who witnessed dirty dancing, snogging or hands down pants? Now, onto other important business. Seeing as Paul Ginger Fox (and others from London?) will be in Glasgow this weekend, we really ought to get together, oughtnt we? So, on Saturday 12th October, we will indulge in a picnic-stroke-pubnic. Incidentally, anyone who wishes to stroke me will have to ask Allys permission, but Im sure hell oblige. After all, he has previously offered my breasts to Starfire Dave. We meet at the Tap at 2pm. It is a short walk from Hillhead station or Kelvinbridge or the city centre and has (a) pool tables, (b) quiz machines and (c) comfy sofas. These props will enable you to (a) show the person you fancy how to hold a cue correctly whilst leaning in, blowing in their shell-like and frotting gently, (b) win enough money to buy a bottle of wine, cf. Ailsa Watson and (c) fall on something squashy and non-bruising when you are too drunk to stand. At approximately 8pm, you* will remove to the Pewter Pot, on North Woodside Road, just up from Kelvinbridge, to continue your drinking in closer proximity to The Winchester Club (yes, I confess, this is a ploy to get attendance figures up, ahem). From 9pm, the Woodside Social Club, just along the road from the Pewter Pot, hosts our fine night of bands and dancing. Be there or be square, darlings. Smut, check. Wanton self-promotion, check. Content, er Juicy Lucy ps. I might possibly be able to offer a bed to members of the Edimbourgeoisie - email me if you want. Also, email me if you're not sure where the Tap is or if you're a scaredy cat and need my mobile number. *somebody else will have to organise this bit I expect to be running around with a frantic look in my eye brandishing electrical tape and lollipops at this point. ===== The one, the only Glasgow Indie List! http://www.groups.yahoo.com/group/glasgow-indie/ ************************************************** The Winchester Club http://www.geocities.com/the_winchester_club __________________________________________________ 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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