Greetings to everyone out there; this is my first post. Although I seem to
write better after a few glasses of red wine, late at night, Im trying it
out here, at work, after a cup of Earl Grey, early in the morning. Well
see what difference it makes.
Ive done far too much thinking lately, thinking about how long Ill be
living in Chicago, about when Im going to decide to go for my PhD, about
how much longer Ill stay in this job, to which I have no ties. Also been
thinking too much about love, which has eluded me for far too long. Made a
corny pact to myself to find someone before my 25th birthday in October but
am questioning both the pathetic-ness and the plausibility of that pact. The
closest Ive gotten to achieving the goal has been during messily awkward
fumblings with a male friend, after establishing that there will be no "us."
We all know how those episodes turn out. So Ive got to put a stop to
that and find a new playmate. A psychic I saw a few weeks ago during a trip
to New York, NY told me Id meet a man with the name David very soon. So
far, no good. Where is my David? Will keep you posted (can you wait?).
The dry weather inside my Chicago apartment has wreaked havoc on my skin. I
find scaly patches on my arms, and feel my skin stretch tight after I dry
off from my shower each morning. To counteract this, I apply moisturizer
(as one does) both on my face and on my limbs. After getting ready in the
morning, my face is transformed from crusting with mild flakiness to glowing
with dewiness. Then, approximately 10 minutes after I get out into public,
the dewiness turns sebaceous and Im like an oily teenager again. Sometimes
I wonder if I will ever feel adult. And then I think I wont ever want to.
Its incredible the volume of mails I get from the Sinister list. I
foolishly jettisoned them into an email folder for three days and am now
plowing my way through 47 separate messages. How may people will plow their
way though mine? Doesnt matter much, I suppose.
And now for my credentials: been listening to B&S for about 5 years now, am
going to see them in Chicago and at Coachella, have never seen them before.
I cannot wait.
Jennifer
{To know me better: its4me.diaryland.com}
_________________________________________________________________
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Is March a sad month to be in? Or just a month for retrospective thoughts?
Personally for me this month is a good month, when winter is finally (more
or less) over. This winter seems to have gone especially quickly, too.
I suppose I'm finally away from academia, and hence away from the torment of
the exams of winter, the queuing up outside examination halls, in the cold
winter days, and the lonely walks home in the snow. This winter, I think I
have only exclaimed "Gahhh it's fucking cold" about 10 times, normally the
figure's around 100, which means either I've turned superhuman and now in
possession of an extraordinary tolerance for the cold, or global warming is
going it's crafty work, or that I've been pissed out of my brain a lot more
often than in the yesteryears.
Dimitra denoted her sentiment that after Easter all there is left is
counting of days until the summer arrives. I think that she is correct up
to a point but I feel that if you go out and make something happen then
maybe things won't be looking so bleak. It's spring and it gets warmer
outside, the day gets longer and the pubs are open. I have a feeling that
I'm going to have a lot of fun.
And there were talks of patriotism and rememberance of a country with an
ignoble history. The purpose of history is to reference the past in order
to not repeat mistakes, rather than to dwell on about the bygones. Things
that happened have happened, sweeping things under the carpet isn't right,
but remembering doesn't mean that you cannot move on, and change the bit you
can change that is the future.
The funniest thing I saw this week was when I was travelling on a Jubilee
Line train on the London Underground, which had, mounted on the wall a
really really old London Underground train map, on which it said "Jubilee
Line - Under Construction", a funny week I've had.
Earl Sheridan d' Orange said that horse racing is cruel and untwee, it's
true. Horse on wheels racing, now we're talking, when those horseys break
their legs cos they're too crap to jump a bloody fence, we give them bionic
wheels with a big motor, with a high horse power, and watch them go
wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, still won't jump them bloody fences though,
not without a ramp. Oh now I really want my own remote control horse.
There was used to be a horse called "Young Kenny" at the Grand Nationals,
but it never won, useless, much like its namesake.
Horses and Red Bulls
Ken
_________________________________________________________________
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
To anyone too fidgety to wait a fortnight for the UK gigs and with
more time & money than is good for them, I have a spare ticket for the
Copenhagen concert.
Becky
PS. It's my birthday today!
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
ello babies
yes, it's that time of year again, following last year's foot and mouth
cancellation, for the annual "sinister takes a punt on the cheltenham
festival" email.
basically we go through all the horses at the world's GRATEest national
hunt festival (ie Cheltenham, this week tues to thur), find the ones
with the twee-est and/or sinister-related names and see how they do.
here are tuesday's picks:
2.00 Scottish Memories (i think a lot of us have them ;))
2.35 Mr Cool (no horses called KEN, i'm afraid)
3.15 Chimes at Midnight (nice PF reference)
3.55 Robbo (is he still on here?)
4.30 Sad Mad Bad (say no more, teehee)
5.05 either Celtic Pride or Barba Papa (mmm, obscure tv reference)
in other news, I'M MOVING TO LONDON!!! mrs carsmile has got a job in the
new borders in islington, so it's the big smoke for me in the next six
weeks or so, blimey...
also, i *might* have another spare brixton ticket, not sure yet, give me
a shout if you need one and i'll let you know in a day or two :)
giddy up horsey!
xoxo
CarsmileSteve
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Oh dear God.
This internet cafe is playing the most terrible music. It's a horrid
techno-trancy-thing and they keep playing it OVER and OVER again! These
cheesy synths and the boring beat. I just bought a Slumber Party album at
an avalanche, but I can't reach into my bag to pull out my cd player. I
don't know why. I just...can't.
On the plane yesterday, I watched the Royal Tenenbaums. It lacks something
on a 7 inch screen in pan and scan. And in the "Judy is a Punk" montage of
gwyneth, the big black box was a bit distracting as well. Still didn't
sleep.
gigs soon. sleep as well. worthless post. perhaps i should include dumb
gibberish as i'm likely to do. actually, i already have.
GOOD NEWS!!! the Atlanta duty free shop had LUCKY STRIKE FILTERS!!! I was so
happy! I bought two cartons (tins)! I'm set for life! life=2 weeks!
God, it's windy.
-Matt
_________________________________________________________________
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http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Hello, all you Sinister and yet somehow dextrous
people--
I'm not about to leave for work, so I won't have to
make this short.
My friend Peri is not on this list but should be. I'll
put her in the nursery soon, but pending that, I can
tell lies about her. Peri lives in a basement flat
here in Nova Gorica, and she has a garden she uses for
lying in when the sun shines. Sunday the sun is
beaming out of a deep blue sky and spring is on its
sprockets. Slavic proto-crocuses are popping out of
the ground everywhere with such speed that you really
cant go around unshod, and from my flat on the fourth
floor I can see all my neighbors daffodils
daffodiling madly out of their window boxes. My window
boxes contain nothing more lush than empty Lako cans,
but I am planning to sow them with great green fields
of cilantro.
About the time that I am doing my regular Sunday
errand, going to the hipermercato to verify that there
is not now nor will there ever be again any coconut
milk, Peri is reading a text message on her phone and
gnashing her teeth and kicking her curvy brown
naugahyde sofa and dashing her phone into billions of
shiny Finnish shards. The text message reads: I LOVE
YOU and it comes from someone who patently DOES NOT.
In the middle of a hot flat part of Argentina this
Monday morning there is a beautiful red-haired girl,
woman, really, who is seven hours behind me and so
its only still early there as I write this but she is
going to wake up soon and move from the big bed to the
desk at the foot of it and check her email. And she is
going to read something that will make her cry almost
certainly and pound on the keyboard in grief and
relief and maybe rend her raiment if any and rub ashes
into her lovely red hair (which is dyed, actually).
And thinking about that message, lurking there in her
inbox waiting to pounce, makes me feel slightly ill,
as though I had mailed her some anthrax (the spores,
not the band). But also slightly better.
I liked Sinister Digest #777 very much, very much
indeed. Thanks to everyone who contributed to making
#777 so very nice. Fernandos post made me think about
some things, like stars and how bright they are when
you live in a dark place, like that flat part of
Argentina was. There was plenty to make my existence
there less than ideal, like the insect population for
one, and letting the red-haired girl talk me out of
going to Sao Paulo and Rio in October, but the stars
were always amazing and made me pretty happy, although
sometimes I worried that I would get a starburn from
them because they were so brilliant and huge over my
head. I wish I could I could buy Fernando a powerful
telescope so that he could write a post describing the
rings of Saturn for us all. And just yesterday, as I
was watching the daffodils do what they do in all my
neighbors windowboxes, the most beautiful girl came
out onto her terrace into the sun, off there to the
left, a bit far away, really, across the green space,
and I noticed that she didnt have any curtains in the
windows, not even decadent yet rather boring
floor-length brown velvet curtains, or any Gustav
Klimt prints on the walls or anything else; her flat
looked like a tautologous hollow cavity and I was
wondering if she had just moved into the place, and I
wished that I could find a way to offer to help her
unpack and put up her curtains, which I have never
actually done but I am sure I would be really good at.
It occurred to me that all of us should have our
telephone numbers painted in huge numbers on the
outsides of our flats, so that if you saw someone
interesting you could phone them, rather than having
to resort to smoke signals (hazardous) or stalking
(time-consuming). The blocks of flats across the way
from me are full of people with lives and plants and
ice-blue television screens and drying laundry. It is
like watching a gigantic ant farm, and I am an ant on
the opposite side, but no one ever watches me the way
I was watching this cute girl in her black tank-top
that in the springtime revealed her navel, whose
existence I was sure of, but couldnt actually observe
at such a distance, like the rings of Saturn. Fernando
should lend me his binoculars.
On the thread of getting parcels in the post, I agree
completely with what Liz Daplyn et alia say about this
thrill. But if you are trying to double your summer
vacation by staying up all night, and if by chance you
are, oh, I dont know, OUT OF YOUR BOX when you order
things, the thrill is increased one-billion-fold,
because then you arent even expecting a package and
so when it arrives it feels as if you have some rich
and eccentric auntie you never knew about but who
knows all about you and is sending you perfect gifts.
This is how I came to own a Belle & Sebastian tea
towel. I think. I am not advocating substance abuse
(as I usually do), but merely pointing out that
sometimes dulling the old critical faculties as LD
put it can have its unforeseen benefits. Then again,
it can make one lose ones brand-new black v-neck in a
bar one shouldnt really have been in in the first
place. If only I had purchased that v-neck via
mail-order, I could be Savoring The Rich Irony right
now.
Since I have neglected to pay the bill, the council
have shut off the poetry in my flat. There was a
problem with my pay processing for a time there, which
was really stressing me out, along with the
deportation threat and everything else, mostly related
to girls or lack of them. Now that the sun is here and
other things are resolving themselves I am better, and
not nearly so misanthropic as my last, Zamfir-damning,
post would lead one to believe. And my bank account
shows a recent deposit so I can now pay my bills,
which is a good thing since I was afraid they were
going to shut off the gravity next, and I wouldn't
want to wake up on the ceiling again. But I dont know
who to speak to about getting the poetry reinstated.
I want to thank Christina McDermott for teaching me
the Russian for strip to the waist. I was wondering
how to say that and now I know, useful, too, since
Peri insists we go to Russia for our August
holidays--we get the whole month free. She lived in
Novosibersk for a time and wants to go back, claiming
it is a top-notch spot to do some debauching.
Knowing how to say padova ya padovnayen certainly
cant hurt. Peri is always going on about debauching,
and as I told her in Prague, where we didnt look up
the fictional Pauline L. Shivers, as I told her, Peri,
I said, you are all talk and then action. And then
talk again. Its true. Watch her in Edinburgh to see.
JDS
Conectate a Internet GRATIS con Yahoo! Conexión:
http://conexion.yahoo.com.ar
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Greetings all,
As an Australian, I completely agree with what Sophia had to say about Australian's and their dodgy memories. Australia's past (and a lot of the present) is very neatly swept under the carpet where it seems to be out of sight, out of mind (2 cliche's in one sentence, sorry about that). And when you look under the carpet you get a mouthful of 200 year old dust and feel sick to the stomach. Two centuries of fakers.
Down with Patriotism.
Have a nice day,
Terry
2,000,000,000 Web Pages--you only need 1. Save time with My Lycos.
http://my.lycos.com
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send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Fans of my griping the other week might like to know
that I have finally abandoned Tripod and relocated to
http://liquid2k.com/robster75 . Those joyful sinister
images are at
http://liquid2k.com/robster75/sinister.html
The site is completely ad-free and all the original
photos are available in their bigtastic full
sized-ness. A redesign is in progress so don't be
surprised if the site looks crap, has broken links or
drops off the face of the earth for no reason at all.
Enjoy.
Robster
__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Everything you'll ever need on one web page
from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts
http://uk.my.yahoo.com
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send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
No, really, its as true as I can make it. Its a fantastically bleepy
vocoderd version of Love Will Tear Us Apart. Slightly sacreligious, one
might feel if one could be drawn to make judgements like that, but what are
icons for if not, well, clasting? Watch a space of your choice.
Of course, Ive already made my pronouncement on it by not immediately
spitting in its general direction. The malaise of not being able to stand
up for or follow ideas through properly is an infuriating one prevalent in
these alienated times. If something is worth thinking about in the first
place, its worth developing thoroughly and bringing to a positive (or
negative, ho ho) conclusion, and its maddening to come across people (and,
of course, ones self, annoyingly) being smugly non-committal with their
vaguely postmodern laziness. Sitting on damp cold fences gives you piles,
kids.
My personal comfort blanket at the moment is Stood On Gold by Gorkys
Zygotic Mynci. Just to see its small yet perfectly formed vinyl loveliness
begin to spin round (even before the music starts, just listening to the
slight hiss through tasty Technics speakers) makes my bone marrow melt and
my knotted intestines unravel with joy. And when its finished (and 7s
finish so sweetly) the fragile arm of the cheap record player shifts from
its active hovering position to glide silently back to the resting place
where it comes to an halt with a tiny but definite click of satisfaction.
Likewise the happiness of hearing Camera Obscura playing on the radio the
other night. They r!o!c!k!e!d!, in particular showcasing the ivory-tickling
talents of the (most likely glamorously fishnetted) Miss Carey Lander of
this parish. I was a tad merry, having shared a bottle of Pinot Grigio with
my mother over a most exciting green curry, and as the room revolved slowly
about the central point of my futon in time to the gorgeous sounds from the
stereo, all was well.
Having spent far too much time _this_ weekend putting up my Mum's
floor-length brown velvet curtains (very decadent and yet rather boring), I
hope to be in London _next_ weekend to look at a house, go to the pub, and
partake of at least a smidgen of the visit of the fragrant Ms Fruitloop.
Oh, and maybe look at some art. So if I see any of you there, dont be
offended if I seem absentminded. I shall probably be drunk.
Which reminds me: I really should refrain from boozing quite so much at
gigs. Its all very well, but my quality control goes right out the window,
so the old critical faculties arent really up to appreciating the music.
Or maybe Ive only seen fantastic bands lately. Brixton in only a couple of
weeks!
If people are interested, there are some photographs of last month's
Brighton extravaganza at
http://photos.yahoo.com/wintryme
along with some other stuff from the latest batch of pictures I got returned
with the aforementioned through the post. I love mail order photo
development. Whoever it was that said theyve become addicted to buying
things on the internet, Im with you there. Getting parcels in the post is
so exciting because you never know precisely when theyre going to come, or
whether the item purchased is going to live up to or even exceed
expectations. Its the pleasurable uncertainty that one craves. Like being
in love, no? Mmmm.
Liz :x
---
Tsuki-Yuki-Hana
Twitch the blind and peep at the moon
The big round moon like a piece of soap.
It washes the daytime out of your eyes
And fills them with night-time.
Ivor Cutler
---
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send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
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+-+ "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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
my bluddy computer hates me.
i've said it a thousand times before and here i am saying it again.
but its true, no denying it....
i've got a bill i cannae pay for my domain name, icq crashes pretty much
whenever anyone starts talking to me which makes people think i'm even
more antisocial than i am... which is no mean feat...
and then my sinister email address got closed down again, which is all
down to my hoarding tendencies being translated into digitalness by all
the sinister mails i've kept... so i had to unsubscribe from sinister
again and i lost of emails that people had send to that address, and
that made me feel guilty because there were some lovely emails from
lovely sinister people that i never got to reply to, and yet again
people think i'm even more antisocial than i am.... so if anyone wants
to email me, or is very angry that they didn't get a reply the first
time round, john(a)ilonline.co.uk is the new (non-changing) place to do so....
all this also meant that i couldn't reply to any sinister posts....
which was most annoying because lots of people have said lots of funny
and interesting things over the past couple of months and i would have
liked to let them know it... so if you said anything interesting and
funny over the past couple of months, can we just take it that i've
mentioned you in a post now please?
so then... erm... content.... well this is pseudo-content... has anyone
noticed that the treasure hunt clues seem to make cliques of the people
who live in or know the cities well? whether you can call a million odd
people a clique is arguable, but i read the clues and went 'wha...?'....
does anyone fancy coming to nottingham to see ali roberts with me on friday?
dum de dum....
by the way i had a dream that we planned a sinister new years party
(aha, at last, a sinister dream. hoho).... and we booked a massive big
place and everyone who had anything to do with sinister all came and we
had lots of fun.... it seemed like a good idea in the dream... ahem.
so anyways, i'm happy that i've re-asserted my place in the sinister
community now....
That was fun.
JP x
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+-+ "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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