Sinister: nothing of no value has no ending

[Jeremy.Simon at xxx.com]

Sinister village people,

1) At the Poetry Cafe last Friday, I had my palm read by a tall man with a
beard. He told me I was up for promotion at work, and wasn't that close to my
parents, which is mostly correct. He did this, however, whilst staring intently
at my face rather than my palm, which I found curious. I think it's very easy to
read people by their faces, but have always been impressed by those who manage
to do it by the palms alone.

This bearded palmist also told Scarlet (the prettiest star in the Sinister
galaxy) that she would a) never have to work for a living and b) have lots of
children, which was very funny. It fully restored my faith in palmistry, at
least as a comedic device. I was hoping he'd read Darren Hefner's hand - I
imagine he'd draw some fairly shocking conclusions. Especially from his right
hand.

2) I was initially fairly indifferent to Stu D's departure. He always seemed
very happy footling around on stage with Looper. He was like a child with
expensive toys at Bowlie, his miner's light strapped to his head. And Y2K is
rarely far from my record player (although certainly not for the dodgy pulp
remix).

However, on friday night, sitting up in bed by candlelight with happy thoughts
of pretty girls and even prettier boys in my little head, I read Ink Movies with
a certain poignancy. He talks so fondly of the band. Without glamourising them,
he makes everyone so loveable. It seems sad that the one who had such a strong
notion of band unity, and such a strong vision of how the band could exist as an
art form beyond the realms of music, should be the first to leave.

3) Samantha did recently write of Nick Drake:

>I can't imagine him as
>ever being a real person for that reason, I think

and I heartily agree, especially because of the bizarre quasi-mystical nature of
all of his press shots and album sleeves. On the back of Bryter Later (or at
least the lovely re-issue) there is a shot of ol' Drakey standing next to what
looks like the Westway at night. it is so strange to see such incongrous items
juxtaposed. Nick Drake. Dual carriageway. Nick Drake. Dual carriageway. It seems
so surreal, as if they belonged to totally different times.

Was that post any good? I am too lacklustre to read it through. The advertising
world has sucked my soul from my body, and were it not for a few saving graces,
I'd be a floppy limbed corpse.

J. D. Salinger

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"you take a really sleepy man, Esmé, and he always stands a chance of again
becoming a man with all his fac - with all his f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s intact"


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