Monday, April 8. 2013
The Witch Is Dead!
Woo hoo! Good riddance to bad rubbish! Thatcher has finally died from a stroke (a stroke of good luck). And not before time. Great news like this demands a celebration. Now stock up on coal and get ready to lob it at her hearse during the forthcoming state funeral!
Friday, March 15. 2013
The Sergeant Matron's New Pipe Smoking Revolution
Having taken up the briar a little over a year ago (as a result of a few pals accusing me of being a 'Chap' and saying that "you should smoke a pipe"), I began investigating the unusual world of contemporary pipe smoking. What at first glance appeared to be a moribund pastime soon revealed a distinct, thriving, colourful, and even subversive subculture, with adherents from all over the world.
Wishing to do my bit for the new wave of the pipe smoking revolution, I suggested to a couple of pals - whilst sitting in the remote Scottish bothy of Kearvaig one night - that we form the 'Kearvaig Pipe Club' (KPC). It seemed so bizarre that they immediately agreed, and the rest, as they say, is history.
With smoking of any kind being almost completely banned in any indoor public space, the Scottish bothy offers a last 'off-grid' bastion where one may legally sit in warm comfort with friends (and strangers), and enjoy a good smoke. Even folk who are not in the 'brotherhood of the briar' tend to enjoy the 'room note' emanating from some wonderfully fragrant pipe tobacco. So if you are interested, why not get yourself a pipe, head for the hills and seek out fellow pipe-smoking oddballs? (Kearvaig Pipe Club website).
Sunday, October 14. 2012
Air Force Manual 64-5
I'm currently reading Carrying The Fire by Apollo 11 Command Module Pilot (CMP) Michael Collins.
Carrying The Fire is probably one of the most fascinating and entertaining books I've ever read. Collins writes exceptionally well - his acid wit and dry sense of humour is an absolute joy - and he is by far my favourite astronaut of all time.
Being CMP on an Apollo mission seems like the perfect job to me, more so than taking a powered descent to the lunar surface, for one gets to spend plenty of time alone orbiting the moon - swinging round its far side and enjoying the tranquility of being out of communication with one's colleagues on the surface, as well as those back home at mission control on earth.
I love solitude.
In his book Collins talks about the survival training he underwent in the deserts of Reno and jungle of Panama. His bible on such trips was Air Force Manual 64-5 and he has many humorous anecdotes about its contents.
Curious about this manual I decided to seek it out online and it sure is an amusing and educational read. Armed with this, one could pretty much be thrown off a helicopter naked, anywhere on the planet, and still eventually come back home in one piece.
Air Force Manual 64-5, I think, will be my next online purchase, just so that I can bung it in my backback when I go on one of my extended trips off grid, just in case trouble brews.
Thank you, Lucky Mike, for the heads up. (DTIC pdf download).
Monday, October 8. 2012
The Entity - Channel 4 Documentary On Sleep Paralysis
Over the last few months I've been experiencing a lot of sleep paralysis which seems at the moment to be occuring almost on a weekly basis. My first experience of this happened a couple of years ago and was utterly terrifying since I came face to face with the archetypal 'Hat Man' that one often hears other sufferers of sleep paralysis talk about.
However recently the experience has become more enjoyable, in the sense that I am starting to experiment a little more with the phenomenon. The situation is usually the same, I wake up, find that I cannot move, realise that I am experiencing sleep paralysis, and when I try to force myself to move my body feels like it is numb or vibrating, accompanied by a sound similar to very loud feedback that one might expect to hear from a microphone that has been placed too close to an amplified speaker. Finally when I do manage to move I get an audible "pop" which concludes the entire event.
Something about this utterly fascinates me, and I am intrigued by the somewhat electrical/electronic feel of the whole occurence.
The following video is an interesting Channel 4 documentary on the matter entitled The Entity.
Friday, October 5. 2012
Media Underground Welcomes Back James Inman
Media Underground is glad to welcome back James Inman as one of our regular contributors. James used to write for us several years ago as a guest and he's been bugging me ever since to put a good team of contributors together (with him included) to restore Media Underground to its former glory.
There are many words one can use to describe the anomaly known as James Inman. ‘Stand-up Comic’ is one such phrase, ‘Rural Punk Gen-X Anti-Hero’ is another. One might also refer to him as a ‘Recurring Alcoholic’ or ‘Angry Middle-Aged Man’. Yet whatever James is he certainly loves to torture himself, and in so doing can occasionally manifest ‘Genius’. Author of the depressingly hilarious travel guide Greyhound Diary, James works the comedy circuit travelling state to state on the Greyhound bus. He is also one of the main characters in the fly-on-the-wall documentary The Unbookables.
If you've never heard of James Inman before, then the following video is a good place to start...
Happy Birthday Media Underground - 11 Today
Over the last few years Media Underground has slipped into what can only be described as a very unfortunate state of lethargy. The rise of social network sites - where no-one sees the internet as anything other than Facebook or Twitter - has in many ways contributed towards this feeling of pissing into the wind, as the population's attention span for anything other than a few lines of banal text is largely non-existent.
Fortunately, we don't give up easily, and to celebrate the site's 11th birthday we have returned to the fold with a small team of dedicated contributors with a willingness to stick it to 'the man' with more emphasis placed on social commentary and vitriolic opinion.
You will not find us on Facebook. You will not find us on Twitter. You will not find us on MySpace, Bebo, Google+, Pinterest, Reddit, or any other fleeting corporate run fad that offers you meaningless social interaction in exchange for personal information that is being used for the purposes of personalised advertising at best, and social profiling at worst.
You will only find us in the underground where we retain our initial promise of never advertising anything and only promoting the things we like and find of interest.
It is our plan to add to our team of contributors over the coming months - if you have what it takes and like what we do then please feel free to submit an example of your writing and we may get you on board.
Sunday, September 23. 2012
Media Underground Welcomes The Sergeant Matron
Here at media underground, it is with pleasure that we welcome new contributor Stephen Lewis to the site. Stephen (or the 'Sergeant Matron' as he is often referred to) is some kind of bizarre human hybrid prototype with a keen eye for everything that is fucked up with the planet.
Author of Boots On The Line: Walking 1000 Miles Of Britain's Dismantled Railways, The Matron spends much of his free time either wandering around seriously remote parts of rural Scotland for extended periods, smoking peculiar and unusual tobacco blends out of one of his vast collection of briar pipes (a pastime that he's somehow managed to get me interested in), or rallying against corporate corruption wherever it rears its ugly head.
A staunch atheist and anti-royalist, we are delighted to have him onboard and look forward to his perfectly sane take on the ills of the 21st century.
Tuesday, July 12. 2011
The Occultist Who Took On Murdoch's Empire
With all the current sordid revelations emerging concerning the appalling criminal practices conducted by Rupert Murdoch's News International, I am reminded of an account my late friend and mentor, Gerald Suster, gave about the deceitful way in which a News Of The World "journalist" ruined his career back in 1989.
Suster, who was working at the time as a history teacher at Boarzell College in Sussex, had been approached by a NOTW hack called Chris Blythe about his life-long interests in the occult and, most notably, his book The Legacy Of The Beast - The Life, Work & Influence Of Aleister Crowley (which had just made the front cover of Publisher's Weekly).
What transpired back then is very much comparable to the kind of practices that we are hearing about today, and whilst there were no mobile phones around to get hacked into back then, it is clear that the methods and motivation News International employ to get a sensationalist story have changed very little in the last twenty-odd years.
In the Autumn 1996 edition of Talking Stick magazine, Gerald gave an account of how a News Of The World article cost him his job, home and salary in the blink of an eye.
For those of you who still doubt the level that Murdoch and his ilk will stoop to in order to line their pockets and manipulate public perception, I have scanned in the relevant documentation here for your own scrutiny.
Devil Teacher - News Of The World (April 16th 1989)
Gerald Suster's Own Account - Talking Stick (Autumn 1996)
High Court Of Justice Documentation (October 18th 1991)
Looking over this material again today, and viewing it in the context of recent events, I am reminded of the final interview that dramatist and playright Dennis Potter gave to Melvyn Bragg just before his death in 1994.
He said: "As a writer, you will know that one of the favourite fantasy plots is where a character is told: you've got three months to live (which is what I was told) - who would you kill? I call my cancer - the main one in the pancreas - Rupert, because Murdoch is the one. I've got too much writing to do, and I haven't got the energy, but I would shoot the bugger if I could. There is no one person more responsible for the pollution of what was already a fairly polluted press, and the pollution of the British press is an important part of the pollution of British political life, and it's an important part of the cynicism and misperception of our realities that is destroying so much of our political discourse."
Friday, June 10. 2011
The Future Is Paraffin
I just invested in another Aladdin Blue Flame Paraffin Heater. So the power companies can fire up the price of gas and electricity all they goddamned want. Come the winter, they ain't getting a penny extra out of me. In fact I hope there's a major power cut and gas shortage! With all the paraffinalia I've amounted over the last few years, I'll be the warmest, most illuminated, smuggest bastard in town.
So take note, things are gonna get grim. But the future is bright. The future is paraffin!
Check this fascinating documentary about a guy lighting his Primus 5 Classic Stove. Trust me, every bit of this is fascinating, and the money shot at the end is well worth the wait...
Sunday, May 22. 2011
Apocalypse Not Now
Friday, April 22. 2011
Going Underground
If you visit here often you've probably noticed it's been real quiet for a while.
I mean, it's not like there's nothing going on in the world that can't be commented on, it's just that I've stopped caring and have come to the conclusion that it's impossible to determine exactly what's really taking place since all media is propaganda in one form or another.
That's what the internet has become. That's what people have created. It's gotten old and dull to me.
Basically, the web is saturated in so much shit, and bombards you with so much unverifiable information, that I no longer care or take any interest.
The world is going to hell in a hand basket, and quite frankly, it's pointless highlighting the obvious when nothing I say or do here will change anything anyway. So my advice is to look after No.1, detach yourself from all of it, and go spend some time with the people you love and care about.
These days it's all Facebook and Twitter and everyone has something to say but little of it worth taking an interest in. In other words, it's all about ego and displaying how popular you are and who you're connected to.
I tire of people's self-centredness real quick!
If you want to network socially with people then have a barbeque, or go to the pub and interact with people in person. Maybe grow some vegetables, enjoy a nice meal together, or embark on a project with like-minded individuals. In other words, quit wasting your time online, that's what everyone is doing and it's unimaginative to be like everyone else.
If you're unhappy about the political environment, or pissed at the current financial meltdown, then take to the streets.
Join a protest group, throw a brick through a window, or take a dump on the floor of your local financial institution. Blogging about it will achieve nothing but taking action will send a clear message.
The era of the browser is over for me. The Hyper Text Transfer Protocol (HTTP) that we've all come to accept as "the internet" is dead. The future of the internet lies perhaps in the old protocols and most definitely in more modern ones such as BitTorrent.
Perhaps the rediscovery and use of protocols like Telnet or FTP is where Media Underground will go in the future, reopening long forgotten communication portals and doing so with the latest technology.
This site has never been about popularity, or advertising, or making money. Media Underground was setup primarily for the exchange of information and at its peak a few years ago, it achieved that and more. But times change and methods need to be readjusted.
It's time the underground went underground.
If you have any ideas about how we go about this then email me before I quit using IMAP, POP3 and SMTP as well (due to the constant influx of spam-saturated bullshit).
Humanity ruins everything that becomes popular. Email and browser-based interactions are now highly inefficient, clogged up, and deeply uninspiring.
The modern internet is about selling you products, and I don't like products.
The modern internet is about selling you as a product, and I don't want to be prostituted.
The modern internet is about popularity, and I despise popularity.
So, let's move forward. If we're going to continue we need to distance ourselves from the methods that everyone else is using.
Let's become unpopular. Let's go underground.
Wednesday, August 4. 2010
Sleep Paralysis: Manifestation Of The Shadow People
A couple of nights ago I experienced what is commonly known as sleep paralysis. I've had a minor occurrence of it before, but on this occasion I found myself overcome with a feeling of intense terror. This coupled with what looked like a tall dark figure that appeared to be breaking into reality through one of the corners of my room next to the door. The figure was gaunt and somewhat Nospheratu-like in stature with what looked like a wide-brimmed had on it's head. I couldn't make out its features but my ears were filled with a pulsating sound and my body seemed to be vibrating as though I was somehow being phased out of reality, beamed up, or probed by some kind of scanner.
The terror that I felt wasn't so much due to the feeling of an evil presence in the room, but I got the impression that this thing was highly intelligent, had an agenda and that it regarded me as little more than an insect that stood in its way. All the while I couldn't move a single muscle.
"As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods" as Shakespeare put it, and eventually after several minutes my girlfriend shook me out of it because I was "howling like a terrified animal," she said.
It happened twice more that night but on the last two occasions I managed to get myself out of it by realising that this was merely sleep paralysis. After each occasion my waking perceptions were filled with mild hallucinations and the experience instantly made me think that these symptoms could be synonymous with the alien abduction experience.
Now, I don't for one minute think that this was anything other than an exceptional case of sleep paralysis as defined by modern psychology, however, the archetypes of the Shadow People and, in particular, "The Hat Man" intrigues me considerably.
Here's an interesting ten part interview with Professor David J. Hufford, author of the provocative study The Terror That Comes In The Night. (YouTube video stream).
Sunday, July 11. 2010
Shutting The Fuck Up Is The New Talking
Sunday, July 4. 2010
Gig Review: Shooglenifty - Gigha Island Music Festival (June 26th 2010)
"All the levers forward, all the time," was one of the text messages I received from the Sergeant Matron prior to the gig, however, on this occasion I think that one of the levers broke off from the control panel and his comment of being "45 going on 15" seems more appropriate as an epitaph to mark the memory of this occasion.
It had started in the usual kind of way, the mad dash to get everything together the night previous, followed by an annoying shift at work that had to be completed in the morning. This could've made things tight for getting to the island on time had it not been for my good friend and work colleague Dasbo The Asbo - who forfeited his Saturday off to help me complete my duty and get us on the road earlier.
You see, the Isle of Gigha is some 160 miles away and with Bingo at the controls there was every possibility of us getting lost or going in the wrong direction entirely. Fortunately, this time, he came prepared with "the analogue SatNav" as he referred to it: a small yellow post-it note stuck to the air-vent of his car's dashboard listing all the roads between Fife (aka Hazzard County) and Tayinloan ferry port.
You see, we had decided to go in heavy this time, taking the tepee, gazebo, tents, fold down chairs, table, and Aladdin Blue Flame paraffin droid for extra heat in the evening if required - and, of course, for cooking homemade bothy-style pizza on.
I had prepared around 8 pizza bases in the bread machine the night previous and - utilising the remains of a disposable barbeque - rigged up a grill-mod to the top of S3E3 (my Aladdin Blue Flame Paradroid) to make a tasty pre-gig munch. Who said camping out had to be without its luxuries? Provided we caught the 4 pm ferry across to Fantasy Island, we'd get there in plenty time to set up basecamp and stuff ourselves full of carbohydrates to help soak up the inevitable colossal consumption of liquid adult refreshments.
Continue reading "Gig Review: Shooglenifty - Gigha Island Music Festival (June 26th 2010)"
Thursday, July 1. 2010
Another Unsolved Statistic
Sunday, May 30. 2010
Gone Fishin'
Tuesday, May 11. 2010
Adios Carrera
Congratulations are in order, to the person who stole my dark silver Carrera AM Fury mountain bike from the Kirkgate in Dunfermline on Saturday afternoon. It was chained to the gates of the Abbey just outside The Creepy Wee Pub, however the thief managed to crack the combination lock in broad daylight and make off with the bike from right under my nose as I sat next to the window enjoying a beer in the boozer.
I’d also like to congratulate the Police Contact Centre for being about as useful as a one legged man at an ass kicking contest. After giving them a call to report the crime, it was reassuring to be put through to a call centre in Glenrothes when the crime was committed here at the other side of Fife.
Apparently Fife Council’s extensive and normally intrusive CCTV network actually managed to record the crime being committed, however, the police request to acquire stills of the crime “could take up to a week,” said one officer on the telephone - by which time my bike will have probably been sold to Smack Generator or had the serial numbers filed off it and the frame resprayed an entirely different colour. What surprised me even more, however, was the response I got upon requesting if I would be able see the CCTV stills myself: “This won't be possible,” remarked the officer on the phone, “as these images come under the Data Protection Act.” In other words, the criminal's identity is protected by law and any attempt by me to identify him would be in breech of his civil liberties.
One assumes, however, that had a bottle of Buckfast been nicked from a local supermarket, the rapid response unit would have sprung into action and caught the criminal almost instantly since the last thing we need in this community is for multinational corporations to lose any profit.
As it happens, I am only a mere citizen who is becoming so accustomed to being ripped off and let down by the system that I am virtually anaesthetized to it all anyway. So, enjoy my bike, whoever stole it, and pray that you don’t break your neck if it throws you over the handlebars.
Sunday, May 2. 2010
Vote Landless Peasant
Well, as I'm sure many of you will already know, it's General Election time here in the UK and all these useless little cunts that you've never seen or heard from since the last General Election are out blazing the campaign trail, presenting us with fake sentiments, fabricated promises and counterfeit smiles.
At least over here the campaign trail only lasts for a few weeks. I couldn't imagine living in the States where the bastards are kissing babies and spouting horseshit for months on end.
God, I hate politicians almost as much as I despise Barry Manilow.
So much so, in fact, that I have been at a complete loss as to who I should vote for. Last time, for example, I voted for the Scottish National Party (SNP). Not because I believe in nationalism you understand, but I like the idea of a more localised government and the dicks at Westminster needed a serious rocket up their arses to scare them shitless.
I won't be voting SNP this time, however. Not since I watched their embarrassing party political broadcast on TV depicting some fuckwit with a faraway stare in his [too close together] eyes, leaving his council flat to go climb a mountain and shout "Scoatlaaand!" at the top of his voice. It is cringeworthy beyond all belief. Check it out here. Even postmen, hot chicks and outdoor knobbers give this dick a pat on the back.
Woooft!
Where's my rifle?
Learn how to pronounce the country you stay in first before you start yelling it from the top of mountains you granny-featured little turd!
This is what is called "the Braveheart vote" which is the last thing this country should be trying to promote. Why the fuck don't they just go the whole hog and put "sponsored by Buckfast" at the bottom of the screen for christsakes?
So the other day, whilst scanning the election feature in my local newspaper, I happened to spy some zoomer at the very bottom of the page who looked a little like Ming the Merciless. I read his caption, realised that he'd probably get about 4 votes and subsequently pledged my allegiance to the Landless Peasant Party.
Unfortunately this party are not running in the Dunfermline and West Fife constituency, but I am going to spoil my ballot for the peasants as suggested in their video section and maybe even join the party just for the hell of it. Also, check out the video of their candidate Deek Jackson on the Campaign Trail. Top entertainment.
Saturday, April 17. 2010
Been Living Like A Hobo
My apologies for the lack of updates to the site recently. I've been off the grid once again having cycled from Dumfries back home to Dunfermline, spending nights in bothies all the way home.
Five hard days without a shower. Five hard days cycling either long distances or dragging the bike over the kind of terrain where bikes don't belong. In short: the Southern Upland Way is no place to go with a mountain bike. All of the hardship was thoroughly enjoyable however, and I'm now kind of sad to be home.
For those interested, my route was Dumfries (town) - Burleywhag (bothy) - Kettleton Byre (bothy) - Brattleburn (bothy) - Moffat (town) - Over Phawhope (bothy) - Innerleithan (village) - Minch Moor (bothy) - Edinburgh (city) - Dunfermline (town). You'll have to figure out the locations yourself as it's an unwritten rule never to disclose bothy grid references.
The experience has given me more material for the book I'm writing, and I hope to be back on the road for two weeks in June to cover a route across the Highlands.
Meanwhile, I need some couch time.
Thursday, April 1. 2010
Swamptrash - Rare Recordings On MP3
Alright you twisted freaks! I had to jump through hoops of fire to try get hold of this stuff. Here's the low-down:
Swamptrash were a Scottish bluegrass/psychobilly band formed in 1987 in Edinburgh. They split in 1990 when several of the members went on to form the wonderful Shooglenifty.
Swamptrash only released one album and a six-track EP during their short career. Fronted by vocalist and banjo player Harry Horse (real name Richard Horne), the band came up with an innovative way to bypass all the bureaucracy of having to phone or send tapes to clubs and pubs in order to get bookings. Basically they spun a wonderful yarn about them all being brothers from Missouri, and Horse - who was really from Coventary and a successful political illustrator for many major UK broadsheets - fitted into the hillbilly role impeccably by turning up at venues under the name Billie Joe and asking them to "pass the hat round". As the routine proved to be quite successful it began to get incorporated into their performances and it wasn't long before Horse was drawling on between songs about "daddy getting his leg bitten off by a gator" or "how mamma had gotten sunk in the swamp".
After Swamptrash split, Horse continued his career as a successful political cartoonist. As well as having his work appear in books as diverse as a centenary edition of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde and children's book Magus The Lollipop Man, his illustrations would also regularly appear in The Observer, The Independent and The Sunday Herald. In 1993 he wrote a cult computer game for Time Warner called Drowned God - a graphical adventure game with a plot involving human history and the belief that "everything you know is wrong".
For Harry Horse the story ends tragically and somewhat mysteriously with the peculiar circumstances surrounding his death and that of his terminally ill wife Mandy in 2007. What was originally reported as a Romeo & Juliet style suicide pact later turned out to be something more grisly with Horse allegedly stabbing his wife over 30 times before turning the knife on himself and subsequently bleeding to death from multiple slash wounds.
Clearly distraught by his wife's rather aggressive form of multiple sclerosis, it is assumed that the incredible stress Horse was under manifested itself in bouts of deep depression and disturbing fits of rage.
Today, the recorded work of Swamptrash is exceptionally rare and difficult to come by, however, here at the Media Underground Nerve Centre I've managed to get hold of both their album and EP in mp3 format. Whilst I would love to acquire higher bitrate versions of this material, these recordings are available nowhere else on the internet. Appreciation and thanks go to Lesley Robertson for sending me this stuff and for going to the trouble of asking former Swamptrash members for their permission to do so.
Note: To download these mp3s you'll need an account with our BitTorrent tracker. If you haven't got one yet, you can sign up for free here.
Swamptrash - Bone (torrent).
Swamptrash - It Don't Make No Never Mind (torrent).
Additional resources:
Swamptrash on FSD
Swamptrash on Halfway To Paradise
Lazy Pict's History Of Acid Croft
Times Article: The Man Who Loved His Wife To Death
Tuesday, March 30. 2010
Watch Out...No-one's About!
This is exactly what the late Jeremy Beadle would've been doing if he had been a Fundamentalist Christian. Personally, I find it highly amusing for all the wrong reasons.
Apparently "Prank 3:16 was created to provide wholesome programming while teaching Christian principles."
Basically, it's brain-washed people playing pranks on other brain-washed people. (YouTube video stream).
Note: This reminds me of a fucked-up movie idea that myself and another drunk dreamt up in the pub last night. Basically the premise is that a couple of Al Qaeda suicide bombers hijack a plane full of Fundamentalist Christians with the purpose of flying it into some huge religious structure, except their plan is foiled when an untimely rapture occurs. Everyone - including the pilot and co-pilot - are beamed up to wherever these morons believe they're going to go, leaving only the two confused suicide bombers on an empty aircraft with no idea how to properly fly it...and no evil agenda. Slapsticktastic!
Sunday, March 28. 2010
Gig Review: Shooglenifty - Tolbooth (March 27th 2010)
For a band that I only discovered last year, I've now seen Shooglenifty play live more times than any other band I like. Why? Well, to put it simply, this band are completely mindblowing and it seems that whenever they play it is utterly impossible to avoid becoming possessed by one's inner hobo. In other words, jigging about all over the joint like that crazy old dude in the movie Deliverance (during the 'dueling banjos' scene) becomes mandatory. The exception to this rule, however, was the recent Portobello gig that I went to with my uptight Edinburgh friends. Having decided beforehand that they weren't going to enjoy it, it was no surprise that they couldn't get into the Shoogles. But then they think Kunt And The Gang are actually talented and - worse still - funny, when Kunt is clearly just an annoying, talentless little shit from Essex and a Roy 'Chubby' Brown of the music world.
Fortunately this time, however, I was joined by a couple of Bothy Councillors, and major Bothy points go to Stevie 'Seargent Matron' Lewis who, in the event of discovering that his van was on the blink, promptly wandered out of his remote Highland home at Loch Eilt, stuck his thumb up on the A830, hitched a ride into Fort William, then jumped on a bus to Glasgow before grabbing a train into Stirling - all in time to get himself a few beers and a bar meal before the gig. Good effort, sir. If Nick Bostrom and Jim Elvidge are right and we're all living in a simulated reality, then The Matron's "can-do" attitude has just won him a lifetime's supply of bacon rolls in the grand old game of Bothying.
Continue reading "Gig Review: Shooglenifty - Tolbooth (March 27th 2010)"
Tuesday, January 26. 2010
So Fucking What?
Friday, January 22. 2010
Lady Gaga 666
Personally, I think she's utter shit. However, the internet does seem to be awash with references to her use of occult symbolism.
Is it just me or is the cover of her latest studio album reminicent of the Great Beast himself?
She also appears to be using this image on a limited edition t-shirt with all the proceeds supporting relief efforts in Haiti. Perhaps this isn't the best way to quell those “pact with the devil” rumours that are being spread by the lunatic Christian right.
Friday, January 15. 2010
Media Squat - Food For Thought
I must confess that I stopped listening to Douglas Rushkoff’s Media Squat several months ago when it cut back on original content and started broadcasting talks from "media squatters" of the past. Not that these talks weren’t of interest, you understand, it’s just that I’ve heard most of them before and would rather hear the opinions of people living through the crisis of today.
That said, a few days ago I listened to the most recent episode of Media Squat prior to their current hiatus and Rushkoff brought up a number of thought-provoking concepts that seemed to ring true with a lot of what I’ve been thinking myself recently. Notably his comments on where technology is taking us and how there doesn’t seem to be anything new any longer - whether it’s music, film or youth culture.
I think he hits the nail on the head when he talks about the “feedback loop” explored in his excellent documentary The Merchants Of Cool (click on the link to watch it online). I mean, nothing seems to get an opportunity of coming to fruition any longer, and the present culture of being plugged into the net 24/7 - where people blog their every thought or, worse still, text pointless and uninspiring messages to their Twitter account - has given rise to a society that seems to need the approval of the collective before anything can be deemed of value (I could be more critical with my comments here, but for once I’m trying to be constructive).
Continue reading "Media Squat - Food For Thought"
Thursday, January 14. 2010
Boycott The Council Tax
Friday, December 25. 2009
Darth Benedict XVI Wrestled To The Ground
Darth Benedict XVI was wrestled to the ground by a female member of the rebellion yesterday, who breached the security barriers at the start of this year's Xmas Eve Black Mass.
The 325-year-old ex-Nazi pontiff was caught on camera being dragged to the floor as he proceeded down the main aisle in St. Peter’s Basilica.
The assailant, dressed in a red hooded tunic, was arrested by Storm Troopers and later described by Death Star spokesman Federico Lombardi as “apparently unbalanced”.
He said she had tried - and failed - to carry out the same stunt 12 months earlier but escaped execution by getting an Aladdin Blue Flame droid to hack the controls of a blast door.
Mr. Lombardi played down the incident and said the Emperor showed “great self-control of the whole situation”.
He went on: “It was an assault, but it wasn't dangerous because she wasn't armed and at any moment the Emperor could've electrocuted her with his fingertips.” (Telegraph article & video stream).
Tuesday, December 15. 2009
Paraffinpunk: A Media Underground Manifesto
“The first Paraffin Crusade starts here. We must banish the pernicious tyranny of the butane/propane canister.” (Text message from The Sergeant Matron, December 13th 2009).
It all started innocently enough with the procurement of a Tilley Stormlight. I’d seen my weird friend The Sergeant Matron tinkering about with one about a year ago and was impressed. Perfect for camping, I thought, ideal for winter trips to the middle of nowhere.
“It’s off-the-grid-tastic!” exclaimed The Matron, eyes wide and geeked out of his crazy mind with a flaming meths-soaked pre-burner in his hand. I pretended not to take too much notice - knowing how he tends to get carried away with such things - but inside I was bubbling with excitement. As the Tilley Lamp’s mantle ignited with an audible pop, paraffin - I quickly realised - could very well become the fuel of the future.
Continue reading "Paraffinpunk: A Media Underground Manifesto"
Sunday, December 6. 2009
Mortimer's Guide To Armchair Anarchy #5
A while ago Ken Eakins of Right Where You Are Sitting Now asked me to contribute a regular column to his website whereby, each week, I teach you ways of keeping 'The Man' on his toes.
Okay, so it’s been a while since I wrote my last instalment, but I reckon enough time has elapsed to avoid any repercussions for this one. Besides, I’m not admitting guilt here, merely showing you how to exercise your rights as a citizen and correspond accordingly when confronted with a Notice of Intended Prosecution.
How To Deal With Speeding Offences
Firstly, it is my belief that there shouldn’t be any speeding restrictions on the roads, merely guidelines.
Okay, so that may sound somewhat controversial and irresponsible, but personally I think it would be a much more healthy society if people learned to take responsibility for their own actions. For example, imagine a world where speed signs such as “20” actually meant “it is advisable that you travel at 20 mph in this area, otherwise, if you go over that limit and accidentally kill someone, you’ll be taken away and executed.”
With that kind of law in place it’d be interesting to see how many people are brave enough to break the speed limit then.
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Sunday, November 22. 2009
Gig Review: Shooglenifty - Glenuig Hall (Nov 14th 2009)
So there we were. The Bothy Council: Dasbo The Asbo, Bingo McNeely, The Bailiff, Sergeant Matron and myself, Darth Paraffin, flaffing around with tents outside Glenuig Village Hall on a wet Saturday afternoon in November, simply because we knew we’d be too drunk to make it back to The Matron’s gaff later that evening.
Technically there was every danger of us dying from hypothermia had it not been for a couple of Tilley Lamps heating up the inside of a tepee and the underside of a haphazardly erected gazebo.
The event? Shooglenifty at Glenuig Village Hall.
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