I am between telephone calls. Sometimes politeness is insulting. At least I could see it coming and it's gratifying to realize that the people who know me tend to like me and the people who don't take the time fire me, ever so politely, in offstage monologue. I'd like to be described as a paranoid eccentric but all I get is office-style fluff. I even had to telephone for the privilege of receiving so much dust. I could turn it all around with a few carefully chosen words but why play in a team? Why play in a team and the captain doesn't know you and re-assembles stray and ill-researched facts so as to dislike you? I may have a stange way of manipulating my own truth but I don't need to like the see-through shambles of someone else's politicalisms. I suppose I now have some free time. Once I get over the shit I might be able to do something useful. The sweet perfume of resilliance. Thing is, I actually like people. But a lion in a cage looking at visitors of the zoo is not the same as the same lion looking at them in the midst of the Savannah Kandahar, Khugiana, Kajakat, Kash, Kang, Kush Kattawaz Is no ma' faut! He did it ! It wisnae me! Aye. I'm afraid this post is almost delirious, but the new Hefner album's very good... the gloopy synths are, well, bouncy and melodic. And you know what? thanks to you lot I now *listen* to lyrics. Well, sometimes. And I read much more. But I guess my places remain indescribeable and private.Well, talking of lyrics, well I went to this party last night/ a lot of people I hadn't seen in a long time and they wanted to know about my life,/ but making me feel like it wasn't quite right like where's your kids and where's your car? I said I don't have either but I have a guitar and I ended up feeling like a freak so I found some wine and something to eat and I talked to the dog to pass the time I suppose if I'm sad the nearest escape corridor is entirely abstract. One imagines being a film director obsessing over glowing extruded parallelograms: visions of flow and spiritual instability. Visceral: appealing as much as it appals? Out of control, as the editor of Silicon Valley's *Wired* magazine entitled his book or the Stock Exchange or the galloping horse: out of control as in 'not being controlled'? Irresolution. Openness. Courage; foolhardiness... for each descriptive appreciation of an action there is a desultory describing exactly the same action. Such are the barely concealed secrets of rhetoric. Be aware. Be wary. I'm letting my mind out on a long leash: giving myself 'a lot of rope' and, if you've actually read this, I'd suggest that you don't attempt to make sense of it. So why post? you might ask. I still am. Asking, that is. I don't know. "Will the gentleman standing behind the bush please stand up. Yes, you sir, Mr. Toby Smythe, of Colefax, West Yorkshire." "Thankyou for your attention, sir." BOOM! ;}' Gordon [quotes are vaguely misappropriated from ms. Heather Nova and messrs. Monty Python, all of whose rights have been vaguely unrespected, but with respects as I am able to proffer] *Piranesi: evidently the only existant plan from a man famed for his perpectives of prisons +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@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 +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+