Sinister: Kidderminster Picnic 2003?

[CJ Field]

Cordially Convivial Sinister,

When I was fifteen I was taught English at school by a *famous* England
cricket of the 1980s. Remember him? No, me neither. Anyway, he put me
off doing English for the rest of my life. He suggested to me that I
elongated my sentences using overly wordy syntax, punctuated by
polysyllabic prose and that i rambled constantly, verbosely and
over-stylistically. I just couldn’t see where he was coming from. And so
here I am at the tweeest [does tweeest have three e's? that’s kerazeee,
that is. It cant be a word. it should be] university, studying something
im not really all that passionate about. It’s a shame really. So kids,
mothers, goldfish and grand-daughters, if I were to offer advice to you,
it would be don’t listen to your English teacher when he gives you 6 out
of 25 for your coursework, look above the fact that he reads your worst
efforts out to the class, and then reads the heroic efforts of your
friends out. Follow your heart. Sometimes I wish I had done more. But
then again, I still love reading. Nay, years ago I wouldn’t read much. I
think this was because there was always a stigma attached to reading.
Like the stigma that's attached to having dog-poo on your shoe at
school. I can recall the time I was 11 and my so-called-friend's mum
said that I was bright cos I read books, and I tried to palm it off to
the friend by saying "Yeh, well, you know, just football magazines and
stuff. Not books." The time soon came for change, however, and it’s a
testament to an evolving youth-hood that said *friend* is now more of a
fiend. In fact, when I now see the people I lumbered myself in with all
those years ago, my bowels turn to water and my fingers and ears start
to pop. It gives me a funny feeling when I see these 11 year olds
walking round in threes in York at Clifton Moor [coined 'ScallyMore'], a
shopping mall of the insipid variety, wearing illumious 'Tommy
Hilfinger' shirts and drinking cans of Tizer that seem to double as
hair-styling products for their military mop-top. And I wonder, was that
me!? These little specimens actually scare me. Thank god I wasn’t alone.

University, it’s a funny breeed. Continuing from my last list abuse
post, about the bores I cohabite with, the problem has sort of escalated
into some monstrous epidemic. I avoid the kitchen because these people
occupy it. One person in particular, actually, really makes me want to
say to him "Tonight Matthew, I'm going to be Ed Gein!" and scare the
bejeezers out of him. Though I feel he wouldn’t notice much, he saw
Michael Moore's book in my room one day and said 'Intelligent book,
Chris!' in that benignly sarcastic tone that says 'Ah yes, it says
Stupid White Men on the cover. It must be for stupid white men! I'm so
clever! Now who wants to play 52 card pick-up with me?' If there was a
film adaptation of a book called 'How to Lose Friends and Alienate
People', he'd be the best male.

The march in London went well. I heard about a placard later that said
'Peace takes Courage. War takes Lives' and i thought, 'My, that's just
lovely, that is.' Much of the walking part of the march was spent
thinking 'Christ almighty, please let there be a McDonald's round the
corner so i can make a bee-line for the men's!!' which is sort of
strange, in a demonstration against the evils of America, for me to be
actually wanting to see the logo of corporate America round the corner,
and a friendly Londoner to say 'Do you want Carex with that?'  The
Golden Arch, it's art you know.

At this point i would like to be flighty and say a big "Good morning!
And in case I don't see you: good afternoon, good evening and good
night!" to all members of the YSM as well as to Stout Robin, i thought
i'd lost you there for a minute. Ps hello to Gillian from Manchester,
where's my stonking reply!!?

Interpol 'Turn on the Bright Lights' is ace. I bought 'extended play' by
Goldrush as well, the packaging looked nice, but upon hearing i'm gonna
take it back. 'Murmur', prehaps instead. Mùm hasn't arrived yet, `(

Look after the kittens while i'm gone, 

Christopher xx

Angela Hayes: Yeah? Well at least I'm not ugly! 
Ricky Fitts: Yes you are, and your boring and totally ordinary and you
know it. 

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