Sinister: ranting maketh fools of us all

[Marc Bloomfield]

Hello!

It's all turned to ranting again, and whenever anyone does so, they do
seem to end up coming across as exactly the sort of person they're
slagging off. Which somewhat defeats the point of it really.

So I'm not going to do any of that. I'm quite capable of shooting myself
in the foot as it is, without giving myself extra ammunition.

I still haven't heard The Strokes. Or The White Stripes. I don't know if I
want to. I'm still worried they'll be a big pile of cack. If they've been
compared to so many good bands, they can surely only be second-rate
rehashes. Maybe I'm wrong. It'd be nice to be proven wrong about it.
There's nothing really that's tickling my fancy at the moment. The last
album I bought was by Clouddead. The sticker on the sleeve said it was
like Cypress Hill doing Kid A. It sounded interesting to me, so I bought
it. It's great. Sounds a bit more like Mercury Rev would if they did hip
hop, but the general weirdness is lovely.

The new Spiritualized single comes out next week! And I've been waiting
for that for ages! But my boss told me it sounded like a ropey Primal
Scream song. I don't know if I believe him or not though. For me, they (ie
Spiritualized) can still do no wrong.

And the new New Order album's coming out too. Another one I've been
waiting for ages for. I hope it's not rubbish. I'll be right disappointed
if it is.

One day The Smiths will reform and make a new album. It will happen. It
will. It will. Okay, it won't, but I wish it would.

I'm reading Brideshead Revisited at the moment. I'd really recommend
Evelyn Waugh. Vile Bodies is particularly good. Never have the bright
young things of the early 20th century been so wonderfully mocked. I like
an author to be cruel to his characters in the name of comedy. It just
doesn't seem real enough if they all live happily ever after. Maybe I'm
just too cynical though. People always say cynicism is a bad thing, and I
agree, it can make you unhappy. But I think, with the way things are, it's
the most sensible option. Then, if you're wrong, it's a nice surprise! And
if you're right  you can get some warped satisfaction of being able to
spot someone horrible a mile off...

I'm really seriously thinking of going back to university to study a
master's degree. In medieval culture. I know everyone thinks 'oh my god,
you fool, what's the point in that?', but I think it's interesting. I just
have to find enough money to fund a course. Out of curiosity, is there
anyone from the UK on this list who's made this, perhaps unwise, step? I'd
really like to know if it's worth it. If you have, please could you e-mail
me off list.

I hate London. It's smelly and grey and expensive and unfriendly. Doh.

Picnic thing on Saturday. I'm tempted. But I have no one to go with, so I
can't cower in the corner like I usually do. And I don't have red pants.
But unless someone tries to sneak a peek (which, let's face it, is
unlikely), I think I might manage to fib my way out of it.

Talking of fibs, I watched a trashy programme last night about the
real-life weakest links. There was one story of such genius. In, I think,
South Africa, there's this massive race, about 56 miles! Anyway, this guy
tried to cheat it in such a wonderful way, I think he should've got a
medal for it. He ran a certain distance, then hopped in a portaloo on the
way, swapped clothes and everything with his brother, then his brother ran
a bit, then they did the swapping thing again and he finished the race.
This was in order to win the prize money. Despite cheating they only
managed 9th, and only got found out because they forgot to swap watches. I
know it's not very sporting, but they were doing it to get some money to
support their family, and it was a cracking scam. Apparently, someone else
tried to cheat by getting a taxi for most of the way. They came fifteenth!
What's the point in that? And how did someone manage to cheat in a 56-mile
running race by getting a cab, and not win?! Some people...

Well, I'm off to be neither indie nor not-indie, but instead to go home
and relax and read a book (Briedeshead Revisited - remember, read Evelyn
Waugh, except Scoop, which starts fine and then descends into horrid
racist pap - I didn't finish that one). Reading is the new rock and roll.
Well it is when you can't afford to be properly rock and roll.

So, anyone, see you on Saturday? I can't even remember where the picnic's
supposed to be. Please could someone tell me. I'm in London, so, glad
though I am that there may well be picnics happening everywhere, I'd be
grateful if I could have the details about the London one.

Marc.

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