Here's my latest video upload: an overnight recce at a new location. Topics up for discussion include Death, Scottish Independence, Misanthropy, the 'Alone' series, and the imagined joy of seeing Piers Morgan and Katie Hopkins being hit by a double-decker bus.
I've decided to start video documenting my off-grid trips. Still much to learn with the filming and editing process - plus there's a few schoolboy errors in this episode - but the quality should improve with time and experience.
Here's a recent trip I took into the Scottish wilderness to spend a night at one of my favourite bothies...
As someone who utterly despises everything and anything to do with the dreaded Retailmas, I once again took to the wilderness for the safe and sane option of blissful isolation...
One thing that rarely gets expressed by the Corporate Controlled Media is that Scottish Nationalism is in essence Civic Nationalism, meaning that it is inclusive of different cultural backgrounds and that the only nationalistic element of it is the acceptance that Scotland is made up of people from all corners of the globe but needs its independence in order to survive and flourish. In order for a country to function as a successful decentralised organism it is imperative that it is able to generate its own wealth, use its own resources, and trade the excesses of these resources successfully with other decentralised organisms for the resources in which it lacks but requires for a healthy and fruitful society. It’s how biology has evolved over the millennia and decentralisation will happen to humans if we are to evolve. I found this video interview a year or so ago with an evolutionary biologist whilst researching something that was completely unrelated to politics. I was stunned by the common sense expressed regarding the importance of decentralisation within evolutionary biology, and the parallels between how the human body operates and the clear way in which the world as a global society needs to operate if we are to survive as a species...
I've always been a sucker for a good doomy Black Sabbath-esque riff, especially when it's accompanied with powerful female vocals (the greatly underrated Sumo album by The Superjesus springs instantly to mind), but what makes Rooftop Revolutionaries unique is the air of political activism that is present at the forefront of all of the band's lyrics.
Amongst all the tasteless, wishy-washy, celebrity obsessed posturing of much of today's musicians, it is so refreshing to stumble upon a young rock band with a purpose other than to become famous and make a shitload of cash.
The following track 'Folk Devils' sealed the deal for me and I instantly bought their album Resolute from huge corrupt corporate retailer Amazon after hearing it (I haven't 'bought' an album in ages - unfortunately sometimes you gotta use The Man to get the message out I guess)...
Myself and good friend Dazbo (one of the true-life characters in my book Bothy Culture), are heading off-grid for a week-long bothy bagging cycle tour around the Scottish Central Highlands. As a result there will be no updates to media underground during that period.
My book Bothy Culture has been getting some great reviews on Amazon. I guess people like brutal honesty and scathing social commentary. Here's some excerpts from a number of recent reviews...
Frisky Stixx:'There are many laugh out loud moments especially as he describes the eclectic mix of people that choose to make the mammoth trek up to these remote spots.'
Poetry Maz:'This has been the most refreshing piece of writing I've had the pleasure to devour in a long time.'
Graeme Henderson:'His values are not for the faint of soul but I doubt there is anyone on this planet who would not agree with at least one of his points.'
C. G. Findlater:'Very few people know what really motivates them and even fewer have the insight or the bravery to write about it.'
Stephen T. Lewis:'Even if you never set forth into the wilds of Scotland this well-written book is worth a read for its counter-culture quirkiness alone.'
A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed the book to date. So far no mainstream media outlet (or local press for that matter) will touch it with a barge pole. Good! Clearly the burning bible on the back cover has created the exact reaction I was hoping for. (Amazon.co.uk book reviews).
A good friend of mine died today. He was a right cantankerous old bastard who never played by anyone's rules other than his own and didn't give a shit about what people thought of him. Needless to say we clicked as friends the first time that we met and I will sorely miss him.
So what better way to mark 11/12/13 than to make it the official release date of my book Bothy Culture. Given that I've been a little concerned about how this book might be received for its scathing social commentary, I figured it was time to take a leaf out of my late friend's own book and not give a flying fuck.
You can preview the book's foreword here, and if you choose to buy it then I hope it entertains, creates a few laughs but, most of all, inspires you to think.
First of all, my sincere apologies for the long hiatus here at media underground. All my free time recently has been spent putting the finishing touches to my new book, Bothy Culture, which is now complete and will be released soon.
It's been a long haul and a shit-load of work (in fact I'm now convinced I have OCD), but it's finally complete and I'm currently awaiting a proof copy as I write. It's not a huge book, coming in at 132 pages, but I'm extremely happy with the end result and hope it provokes, entertains and inspires - as well as creating a few laughs along the way.
Do not be put off by first impressions that this is a book about 'the outdoors'. It has been designed deliberately to look like that - to be a trojan horse, if you like - in order to dupe the average 'Outdoor Knobber' into buying it. If one takes the time to examine the back cover, you will see from the image and blurb that there's much more to it.
Basically the book comprises of fact, fiction, history and scathing social commentary about the current state of our society. In fact I foresee there appearing a significant amount of negative reviews on Amazon over the forthcoming months (concerning the book's content and occasional bad language), which is okay, as this would be a good indication that I've done my job properly.
So, regular updates to media underground will now resume and be sure to stay tuned for the book's official release date. In the meantime here's the front and back cover art as well as some other promotional material (click on the images to expand)...
I say "may have been wrong" as the jury is still out on this for me, but ever since Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield started using Twitter to promote the activities onboard the International Space Station, I now realise that certain social media services don't just have to be about idiots informing their friends about when they are watching TV, eating a kebab, or taking a dump.
Now sure, "noise" such as this does occur; in abundance - and unfortunately it is inevitable - but I'm beginning to think that if used intelligently (and with discrimination) social media such as this might have some value. Especially since a limit of 140 characters doesn't provide enough space to post anything other than a brief comment and a weblink to something outside the site that might be worth investing some time exploring.
I will, however, continue to steer well clear of Facebook. The fact that it is an egocentric closed loop system created for the purpose of aiding governments/corporations to data mine, predict trends, and influence the things we buy and the way we vote, is reason enough for me to leave it well alone.
In the meantime, for anyone interested, you can follow media underground on Twitter by clicking on the image below (I almost feel ashamed of myself for having succumbed to this after bitching about it for years):
If the time invested in it outweights the intellectual return, then the account will be shut down without notice. I am hoping to be proven wrong on this however, and will happily admit so if I am.
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!
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).
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.
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...
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.
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.
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.
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."
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...
I wonder if Harold Camping has killed himself yet. In fact, if he hasn't already, I would suggest that his next plan of action should be to kick start the rapture himself by sticking a 9 mm in his mouth.
How embarrassing to be living in the 21st century with this kind of superstitious claptrap still going on.
I reckon that if Camping had promised the ZZ Top car to show up and that hot chicks were going to get out and whisk them all away, there'd still be idiots standing in their driveways with suitcases clutched tightly in hands.
That, at least, might be a nice delusion, although undoubtedly way more disappointing when you realise the girls aren't gonna show.
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.
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).
Does anyone else feel the same way that I do about the internet?
Basically, I'm bored shitless with anything anyone writes on it.
Okay, so I turned 40 a couple of days ago - so I guess I'm supposed to be disillusioned what with a mid-life crisis setting in - but I think my contempt has more to do with how the internet has mutated over the last ten years.
Don't get me wrong, the web has way more to offer today than it did a decade ago. For example, I can just about download any album or movie I want without forking out a single penny, and I can avoid watching TV entirely by going online and selecting the programmes that I want to watch when I want to watch them. At the moment I'm learning how to play the banjo and the quality and variety of online help and free video tutorials is so impressive it has eliminated any need for me to seek out a private tutor. In fact, there's all kinds of amazing funky things I can do online which has enhanced my life and fast-tracked me through pursuits that would have been laden with obstacles ten years ago.
"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.
Just submitted this for consideration in next week's local press...
A couple of months ago my mountain bike got nicked from the Kirkgate outside The Creepy Wee Pub in broad daylight and I subsequently submitted a letter to the Dunfermline Press (Letters, May 20th 2010) expressing my disillusion at the way bicycle theft is regarded by the police.
At the time, I realised that the longer it took for those who "serve and protect" us to investigate the theft, the less likely there would be of any recovery, so, I pulled out all the stops and did everything I could to encourage investigation within the first few days after the theft took place.
My main objective was to see Fife Council's CCTV footage of the crime being committed in order to determine if I, or anybody that was present on the day of the crime, recognised the thief, however, at the time I was told that the footage was grainy and that any chance of me being able to view video stills of the event was "highly unlikely" given current Data Protection laws. As a result, I wrote the bike off, took the hit and bought another bike, making sure to insure it this time.
Fast-forward a couple of months and I get a phone-call from the investigating officer telling me that she finally has an image of the criminal riding my bike down St Margaret Street for me to look at.
Well, whoopty-do, thinks me, for what it's worth I might as well check this baby out.
Needless to say I didn't recognise the thief, despite the image being a pretty damned clear one: it was the usual kind of shaven-headed gorilla, eyes real close together with protruding forehead resembling some kind of human prototype; tearing down the road on my two-wheeled friend, locked in criminal-bliss, sphincter probably twitching like a base-jumping adrenalin junky.
"Sorry," I say to the officer, "but it looks like half the male population of Dunfermline, can I keep the image to show around?"
I might've well asked for a shot of her truncheon as apparently the image is police property and not allowed into the public domain.
I am therefore confused. Did this event actually take place in reality? Didn't this image show a picture of a crime being committed? What happens next in trying to identify this goon? How on earth can it be okay to show CCTV footage to millions of viewers on Crimewatch, but not be okay for me to get a copy of this photo?
The answer hit me after I signed a form stating that I couldn't identify the criminal. Basically, it's a case of sign here, case closed, another unsolved statistic and a burden off police hands.
I don't blame the investigating officer. She probably did everything in her power under a failing system, but having worked in CCTV a number of years ago, I know that it doesn’t take two months to get an image printed off…unless, of course, you work for Fife Council.