Gonna Scrape the Trouble Off My Boots!

Slang and further nastiness

2006-03-13T15:52:00.000-08:00

Skint- broke, low on funds, brassic
Wanker- literally, one who jerks off. Has come to be a general insult.
Berk- short for "Berkshire hunt." You work out the rhyme.
Fantabulosa- Polari for fabulous or extra good
Bona- Polari for good
Gunner- a fan of Arsenal FC, the WORLD'S BEST FOOTBALL TEAM!!!Plusgood- Orwellian newspeak for...plus good
Scarper- Polari/cockney for get out quick or escape, from the italian scapere, to escape
Suss- knowledge or suspicion. I've got the suss-I've got the smarts. He's pretty sussed- he's pretty smart. Suss out the scene- to figure out what is going on. Mod suss- the ability to work out what's happening within moments of entering a room, useful in the used car trade
Mod- a british fashion movement of the late 1960's, associated with Pop art and the model Twiggy
Drag- Polari for clothesVeck- nadsat for man
Droog- nadsat for friend, from the Russian "drug" meaning friend or comrade
Viddy- Nadsat for see (possibly from the latin video, videre, but more likely of Russian origin)
Devotchka- 1) Nadsat and Russian for girl 2) a band
Sod- 1) originally derived from "sodomite", a derogatory term for a homosexual. Has come to mean a lazy useless person. 2) as in Sod off- comparable to the american **** off
....so go away and leave me...

2006-03-02T18:42:00.000-08:00

I haven't updated in a long time. This has ceased to have a point, and I may get rid of it. I don't know yet.
Cheers
J

Rabbits and NY City

2006-02-13T14:59:00.000-08:00

Went to Kari's for tea and a chat. Met up with her rabbits, both of whom are very cute and fuzzy. Good fun.
Other than that...tomorrow is Valentine's day, or rather National Singles Awareness Day. You shall know us by the gloomy expressions and the "ask me out, I'm charismatic" looks on our faces.
Time to update the cast of characters:
Pirategirl/Sparklie: a piratical viola playing friend
Kari: Bro's GF's sister and friend of mine
Entwistle: Who fan extraoridinaire
Ferdinand: one of those people who can twist the most innocent of phrases into something completely wrong
yeah...
Plus, big news, we are going to NEW YORK!!!!
Yes, all five of us. (me, ma, dad, bro, hgf.) and we're staying in the Algonquin. HOW AWESOME IS THAT??????? Had a slim chance of staying at the Chelsea Hotel, but that didn't work out. Ma didn't trust it to have hypoallergenic bedding. I'm skint or else I'd stay there myself (I hate sharing hotel rooms). Still, this shall be fun. Oh yeah.
Been listening to some Bowie stuff besides Ziggy Stardust: Low and Stationtostation. Jolly good.
that's about it. I have a headache.
Party on!

1979

2006-02-02T15:15:00.000-08:00

Sid Vicious is the icon that punk rests upon. He was the best of punk and the worst of punk and the very worst of human degradation. He was a junkie, a would-be hard man, a terrible bassist, and quite possibly a murderer as well. But we love him. Why?
Because he really believed in punk and the associated subculture. Because he was essentially a sweet kid. Because he managed to look good even with the words "Search and Destroy" carved into his chest. And because he really is a punk icon. The leather jacket, the boots, the chain? Classic! Sid!
And yes, he was an idiot. His song lyrics are pretty weak and he never bothered to learn his instrument. But he presented himself as a good punk bass player so we believed him. He lived fast, died young, and left a good-looking if slightly bruised corpse. Elvis never managed that.
Bob Gruen, a great photographer, toured with the Sex Pistols in America. He had a pair of motorcycle boots that Sid coveted. Once Bob fell asleep on the bus with his boots resting on the seat beside him. Sid came over and held a knife to his throat, saying, "If I killed him, I could keep his boots." He didn't, and when Bob woke up he found Sid wearing his boots with a goofy smile on his face. "I like your boots. May I wear them for a bit? You can wear mine, if you like."
I am the world's forgotten boy one who searches, searches to destroy!

Albion and Arcadia

2006-01-23T16:59:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been rather lonesome despite the spell of sunny weather
I've found it hard to stay on track; I cannot get it together
The Irish write the saddest songs and then move on to better things
The singer's loneliness spills out into the quiet songs he sings
Paranoid and on my own I've lived for many years
The silence in the nighttime serves to amplify my fears

I may be lonely now and I was very lonely yesterday
Despite the paranoia I won't have it any other way

Dreaming of dystopian fears that haunt the quiet of my mind
The streets and towers and smoky air of cities I have left behind
Someday I'll watch my feet again on the paving stones of Camden Town
The tower blocks of loneliness will fade away and crumble down
Lately I've been dazed, confused, can't keep my thoughts straight in my head
I thought I saw him on the streets but it can't be him, he's four years dead

I may be lonely now and I was very lonely yesterday
Despite the paranoia I won't have it any other way

Arcadia, the promised land, once haunted sailors' wildest dreams
But in its towns and cities it's not quite so lovely as it seems
The darkness of the hotels where Chelsea Girls would go to die
Is captured here in city streets, a while ago they longed to fly
The Westway into Ladbroke Grove, the grassy slopes on Hampstead Heath
The traintracks over Albion hide battlefields far beneath

I may be lonely now and I was very lonely yesterday
Despite the paranoia I won't have it any other way

-J. Ritchie, 23rd Jan 2006 Not to be reproduced except for educational purposes

Up the Bracket

2006-01-17T15:48:00.000-08:00

...or up yours, mate.

I was feeling bored and lonely yesterday after helping my mother clean out her basement. "Should we keep these cookie cutters, ma?" "Throw 'em out." "But we might be able to use them." "Throw them out!"

The day before that I got into a long argument about Whole Foods mac'n'cheese.
J: Okay, so the sandwiches are too expensive, so we could get mac'n'cheese....
G: yeah, okay, but there's only one big carton left. We could split it...
J: or we could both get little cartons
G: Or we could both get big cartons but there's only one big carton left
J: or you could get a big carton and I could get a little carton
G: really?
J: yeah, I'm being generous.
We ate while watching Family Stone, which is a lot better than I thought it would be.

I went home and went to bed, cleaned ma's basement, got bored, and went CD hunting. They didn't have Up the Bracket at my usual place so I was forced to support Borders and therefore corporate America. Whatever. Bro's girlfriend works there. Bought Up the Bracket, listened to it several times, felt better. Been walking around with "The Boy Looked At Johnny" or "Horrorshow" stuck in my head. Pete Doherty's been arrested again and supposedly broke up with Kate Moss. Sucks for her, don't it?
Yeah...
bye

The Boy Looked At Johnny

2006-01-13T15:42:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make. This may shock you all. Particularly those of you who thought I was reasonbaly intelligent. Or had reasonably good taste in music.
Ready?

I like the Libertines, and I don't yet own any of their albums.

This is terrible.

ItWasGreatFun will think I'm an art-hating phillistine. Mini Wheat will think I'm a crack addict like Pete Doherty. Snowy will think I'm weird. Peaches will tie me to a chair with James Brown blasting from the speakers for twelve hours straight.
But to them I say: HAHAHAHA!!!! I will like lad-rock if I want to!!!! And you can't stop me!

Tired'n'Bored'n'Out of Leftovers...

2006-01-11T18:23:00.000-08:00

...basically describes my chinese-foodless state. I have to argue a case tomorrow or the day after life otherwise sucks. Which sounds awfully teenagerish of me. Whoop-di-doo.
Oh well, the weekend's coming, so I'll be able to attck my movie list. Plus instaFriend, Entwistle, and Kari are probably coming over to alleviate my misery. I also have cartoonist's block. Angst, angst, angst.
Oh well.
J

Back to the USSR

2006-01-09T18:45:00.000-08:00

Home again after break. The plumbing has stopped screwing up, our water heater isn't misbehaving too badly, and I lived on leftover takeout Chinese food for three days. Back to the USSR.
Went out to eat with Twinlets, Philosophy Dude and co. the night after I rewatched Westway to the World. Philosophy Dude has the 101'ers album so we listened to that (LETSAGETABITAROCKIN'!) and discussed Chrissie Hynde and Rude Boy, the other Clash flick. Good fun.
The next morning, my friend H and her kids came over for a chat. Elsa is three, nearly four, and Sawyer is one of the most alert babies I have ever seen. After much ooh-ing and aah-ing and ohmigodyouaresocute-ing they left and I got to work on a legal brief. The joins of studying law. Sandinista on the headphones was my only salvation from death by boredom.
After that I had barely enough energy to sit in front of the electric fire and read movie reviews. I now want to see:
Stranger than Paradise (Jarmusch, a favorite of Philosophy Dude)
Down by Law (Jarmusch, liked by the Time Out guide)
Mystery Train (Are we getting a Jarmusch thing going here? Joe Strummer's in this one)
Rebel Without A Cause (James Dean is TOTALLY my style icon)
A Place in the Sun (cos the Clash liked it so much)

Further Xmas Day and A Public Service Announcement

2005-12-28T14:01:00.000-08:00

(with guitar)

Went to Peaches's for dinner and consumed much turkey, afterwards played charades with their Brit neighbors-to-be. Fantastic fun. Slept in day after and ate turkey leftovers. Still eating turkey leftovers. Will be eating turkey leftovers until we throw its mangled carcass into the putrid depths of our trashcan, where it will rot and stink and add to the general stench of death that hovers over my corroded soul... As you can tell I'm rather sick of turkey leftovers.
Later went skating with Peaches, meaning that she dragged me around the rink until I gained some semblance of control over myself. Then we went home to watch Chocolat with Bert and experiment with green eyeliner.
Today went sketching at the art museum and found that Sandinista! makes excellent car rock, especially the dub bits. Drew sculptures and a chaise longue. Stopped in Anthropologie only to find that it wasn't my kind of place at all.
Came home and did blog stuff, checked out Strummersite (which I can reccomend for fans of The Man) and so forth. Ate a buttery oregon herb roll. Thought about falling asleep and decided against it.
And now...
I never thought I'd be the multiple blog type, but I now am. Check out Telephone Belle (reachable by clicking on my profile) for music reviews, art notes, style musings etc. Enjoy! (It's early days yet, I've only got two posts, neither interesting.

Xmas Day part 1

2005-12-25T14:51:00.000-08:00

Woke up and opened presents. Sunny out without a speck of snow, t-shirt weather, but really, what do I expect? Got to spend some actually family time, plus bro, until he went out to eat xmas lunch with his girlfriend. I was kinda hoping he'd hang around a bit but oh well what the hell. He'd be bored and whiny so we're better off without him. Anyways, we're going off to chez Peaches for dinner and having him along would be as awkward as my dancing. But Jesus, does he ever think about the younger siblings? Kari wants her sister back and I want the brother I never really had. Piss and vinegar.
On a happier note, I got Sandinista! finally, complete with lyrics sheet and excellent songs. Picks include "Crooked Beat," "One More Time," "Let's Go Crazy," "Lightning Strikes" etc. I'm not even into disc two yet. A lot of used books, frames for my photos/paintings/whatever, maaaaaan, a few spare canvasses, buttons, ART BOOKS!!!, Heart of Darkness and a Taschen photo book from Bro, Best of Lou Reed also from bro, bracelets, antique rhinestone pins, and a hilarious box o' randomness from Dad.
As an add-on to my xmas list (guitar and piercing) I wrote down a lot of random crap not meant to be taken seriously. Tattoos cars, (later slurred to "tattoo scars") diamonds, scratched Clash singles circa 1977, Paul Simonon originals, and a villa in the south of France. My dad went online and printed out photos of all these things, which I will stick on my wall when I find the time.
Anyway, 'tis the season to be capitalist, whether you're Christian like her, Jewish like him, or pagan like me, so go out and SPEND SPEND SPEND!!!!
Cheers, yah,
J

Xmas Shopping and Further Proof that Theater People are Crazy

2005-12-23T10:37:00.000-08:00

Second subject first. Yesterday, I co-wrote, co-directed, and co-starred in a one act play. "Caution" by Noituac and Company (ie me, Jazz, Wammikins, Possum Baby, and It Was Great Fun.)
Our prop: Caution tape
Our secret: All the characters end up related
Our challenges: To create rain onstage, to incorporate a blackout, to have one character wear a poncho, and to include a compulsive knitter.
Our first and last lines: "Do you have the time?" "Well, the pineapple is tha national symbol of hospitality!"
Our "plot" (sort of): The characters meet at a road blocked by caution tape. They spend the duration of the play wondering about the tape and telling their life stories while being bugged by a homeless guy who ends up being their second cousin Sidney. As they walk off, he produces a pineapple.
Our cast:
Homeless guy/Second cousin Sidney- Wammikins, playing a more annoying version of himself.
Taxidermist- It Was Great Fun, in excellent creepy form.
CEO of Ice Trays International- Jazz, knitting away
Lead Guitarist for Ghengis and the Khans- Me, in trench coat and plaid hat
Employee of International House of Possum- Possum baby, hamming it up with a pitchfork.
It was excellent. We pulled it off in slightly less than twenty four hours with very little caffeine. I wish I'd taped it.

Xmas Shopping
Went out yesterday with Ma and Bro, hunting for presents. It has turned sunny, which is rather odd, so it was warm enough to wear a t-shirt. We stopped in all the usual places- World's Largest Hardware Store and the adjacent coffee shop, maaaaaaaagical new antique store, Borders', The Body Shop, Urban Outfitters, and Paper Doll. I found presents for everybody except Peaches, because what the hell do you get for the chick who has it all??? She's coming over tonight. PANIC ATTACK!
Cheers,
J

The banknotes of Europe

2005-12-17T12:42:00.000-08:00

The emperors and kings
Curling in the autumn with the burning of the leaves
And I've cleaned my black guitar...
- "Stop the World", '80s era Clash.

Went guitar shopping. Our local guitar/keyboard/whatever, maaaan, emporium usually has something funny written up on the marquee out front: "You're feeling sleeeepy...veeeerry sleeeepy....come in and buy a guitar...." "The 88 keys to happiness are here!" or, most recently, "curl up with a warm guitar this winter." I went in feeling very timid.
I wouldn't mind living there, I decided. The walls are covered with guitars, the carpet is covered with dog hair and it is full of local cyberhippies and Zeppelin kids. I tiptoed through the rows and rows of gleaming instruments to see a guy in the back playing the blues and a kid holding an Aerosmith songbook. I was greeted by a guy with frizzy hair and an amiable "whatever, maaaan," personality. He showed me some OK student guitars: a black Art&Lutherie Canadian number for $270ish and a Fender all laminate job for $99. Tempted as I was by the name brand and low price, the Fender sounded terrible and I will personally crucify its inventor as soon as I get the chance. Anyway, I tried out the black one and promptly forgot all the chords I ever knew except Dmaj. At least I didn't try to play "Stairway to Heaven." I bought the guitar.
As we were checking out, I overheard a Joni Mitchell impersonator talking about her new keyboard. "I'm getting a keyboard instead of a Christmas tree this year," she said, "I don't want to kill a tree, you know, ethical reasons..." We paid up and left.
So now I am enjoying the simple joys of having a guitar and the lovely bruised feeling the fingers get after a few hours of Amaj Dmaj Emaj...
Whatever, maaaan.
J

Home for the Holidays

2005-12-17T08:50:00.000-08:00

Cheap holidays in other people's misery...
-Johnny Rotten, "Holidays in the Sun," 1977
The Bro is among us, and of course with Bro comes His Girlfriend who is one of the nicest people I know. Me, Ma, Dad, Bro and HGF all congregated to deck the tree with sparkly objects and eat Ma's soup. It was fun, for the most part, listening to old European carol albums (including several of Ma's favorite LPs) and pondering the whys and wherefores of baked apples.
Naturally I won't see Bro much at all. Seeing the two of them makes me feel lonely, having "never had no one ever..." It's going to be a rather lonely holiday. I think I might move in with Peaches.
Luckily I wasn't given much time to mope because I was whisked away into Ma's room to watch part of _Amelie_ which is one of the best films I've ever seen. Annoying Unlovely Git was right about something for once! Can't wait to finish it.
It's snowing right now and I am shivering so much I can hardly type...not that I can type well under normal circumstances...
Other Random Notes:
Been watching a series of Art videos (Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Titian, Velasquez, Vermeer, etc) presented by a guy with spiky hair and a fondness for the phrase "frozen moment." Quite good otherwise.
15 Dec was Paul Simonon's fiftieth birthday. Contemplating that guarantees hours of unrestrained amusement.
And...
I'M GOING GUITAR SHOPPING TODAY!

Do the Cossack Dance in America!

2005-12-14T19:22:00.000-08:00

I mean, you might as well. -Joe Strummer.

We took Snowy out dancing and it was very, very fun.
The day began with me dashing out to buy shoes. I ended up with gold flats. I then went to the library and loaded up on fashion books, including one written by Twiggy in 1968 when she was about seventeen. Anyone want to buy me some eyeliner for Xmas?
I then met up with Bert and we went off to get our nails done in a very swank spa full of impossibly glam people. A little intimidating but fun nonetheless, mine are now filmstar red!
Went back to Bert's house where I disappeared into her pile of girlie fashion mags until Billy Joe Jr. (aka GreenDay, on Snowy's blog) arrived and we ate pizza. Snowy herself came as well. I had a Coke and got very overcaffeinated.
Peaches showed up and we all crammed ourselves into Bert's tiny bathroom acting like grooming chimpanzees: doing each other's hair and makeup or shaving our own legs etc. Long conversations about the color of underwear (black underwear=you want to get laid. Deal with it) and about putting mascara on Billy Joe Jr, or about Snowy's quiz madness etc.
Dresses dresses dresses:
Bert wore dark turquoise velvet, strapless, very modern and elegant
Snowy made her own gold satin skirt
Billy Joe Jr wore black with awesome lace stockings
Peaches got a brown 'fifties-ish number with big skirt
J wore a gold sparkly lace skirt with a turquoise top and Twiggy-ish eyeliner.
We went and danced, even me (my dancing skills are comparable to those of Dee Dee Ramone's tonsils). Sadly the music was all rap so I had to go over and terrorize the DJs, but they never did play my songs. The non-rap notables were: "Numa Numa" (Maiia hee...etc, not "maria..."), "Beverly Hills," "La La," (the one with Ashlee Simpson looking like an emo kid in the video...seriously, there is a GUY I've seen around with her haircut and clothes) "Since U Been Gone," "Hollaback Girl" (YEAH Gwen!) and that one song where every third word is "Girls!!!"
Peaches agonized a lot about asking HIM to dance (not the band...) and I got pissed of at DJs and rap. Funnily enough even Snowy's bro came, under coercion, wearing a suit and an expression of disbelief.
I tried to do the cossack dance but I'm not flexible enough...repeating the quote is a surefire way of bothering Billy Joe Jr.
I dunno, throw a rock at it?
J

Been a long time...

2005-12-14T15:23:00.000-08:00

...since I rock and roll, ooh.

Sorry, brief Led Zeppelin moment there, no worries, it's a passing thing.
Quick update on my doings:
Further escapades in the realm of culinary hair dye straightened my hair but didn't color it. I then tried to darken my roots with mascara which worked OK but left a nasty, greasy residue. Oh well.
We got our Unidentified Winter Holiday tree which remains undecorated until Bro returns.
Going to study for a science exam with the fantastic Mini Wheat, who interrogated me on the lineage of my orange...
I created a rather controversial comic today, featuring Annoying Unlovely Git and Bearded Winkler, complete with stripper scarves, dancing. Another one o' them long stories.
Beaky is making a film which finally has a plot but no screenplay. Should be a laugh.
Got a book on Twiggy (published 1968 and only missing a few pages) from the local library. It's fantastic and now I need new eyeliner.
Take a moment for John Lennon...
And we dragged Snowy out dancing. Much fun. More on that one later.
Cheers,
J

When the Sex Pistols roomed together...

2005-12-04T11:58:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I went over to Brainsponge's house and returned a changed woman. Creepy how friends can do that to you.
We had originally arranged the get-together to work on our novel, a bizarre Victorian-ish fantasy job that is currently taking over our lives. However, my disorganization intervened and I forgot to bring the bit of it I was working on. (Although I did remember my toenail clippers, in case I needed a haircut...)
We ended up watching Gilmore Girls instead.
I have grown up without a TV. I was perfectly happy being TV-less. I never cared about Friends or Law and Order or Family Guy or any of those other shows. Even when we had a TV in London, all I watched was David Attenborough's bird show. I devoted my spare brain space to remembering useless facts about bands. And then they introduced me to pop culture.
Peaches, Brainsponge, Brainsponge's Little Sister, and Sparkly are so in to Gilmore Girls that they can recite episodes word for word. Many of our conversations involved me sitting there in mild amusement while they rattled off entire exchanges: Brainsponge: "so then Luke says..." Me: "uh huh." They decided to convert me. Armed with potato chips, pizza, and more Coke-the-beverage than I should ever consume in one evening, we trooped into the TV room to rot our brains and discuss Peaches's favorite actor, Milo Ventimiglia. What a name. *Laughs hysterically.*
So anyway, the show is quite good. It's funny without being cliched or dumb and it has enough music references to keep me happy. My favorite of these runs thusly:
Nerdy guy #1: "What's this?"
Nerdy guy #2: "A nightlight."
Nerdy guy #1: "Dude, we are not having a nightlight. When the Sex Pistols roomed together, they did not have a nightlight."
Nerdy guy #2: "How do you know?"
Nerdy guy #1: "Because I read Johnny Rotten's book, and nowhere did he mention a nightlight!"
Oh god. It's finally happened. I have turned in to Brainsponge.
Other notes:
Passion is a Fashion got a good Times review.
Peaches is scarred for life because of a pic of Joe Strummer in swimwear.
I am going to see if I can get Rotten's book at the library now.
Snowy has gone quiz-mad.
BYE

In Praise of Many Things

2005-11-29T14:32:00.000-08:00

This is terrible. I look like I'm wearing Johnny Cash's jogging clothes and one of Elvis's more inadvisable jackets. Aah!
The jacket is a bright pink, zipup, non-hoodie sweatshirt that I never wear in public because it is from Old Navy, store of the Contrafashionistas. I've paired it with one of Bro's old black t-shirts and black running pants that would fit one of Hannibal's elephants. Not a good look for me.
BUT I digress.
Hats. In Praise of Hats.
I love hats, especially flatcaps. Having been unable to find a flatcap large enough to fit me or feminine enough to please my ma, I finally stumbled on a bottlegreen satin number in a thrift shop. Too excellent.
In Praise of Teamakers.
If the world was any more unfair, bedside tea makers would only exist in English nursing homes. Luckily they don't. Three cheers.
In Praise of Libraries.
I love libraries but they intimidate me. They're too quiet. I have a pair of jeans that I can't wear in libraries because the lower legs brush together noisily. I have a pair of shoes that sound like machine gun fire even on carpet. If I wear one of these articles of clothing into the library, I get weird looks. And then came the day I was stupid enough to wear both...
In Praise of Bro's CDs
Cos everybody knows (she's a femme fatale)
The things she does to please (she's a femme fatale)
She's just a little tease (she's a femme fatale)
See the way she walks
Hear the way she talks...
(nuff said)
In Praise of Large Clash Photo Books
I just got Before and After by Pennie Smith in the mail and it is HILARIOUS beyond all reason. Joe, Paul, and Mick all wrote comments which range from the fairly normal (We only took this one for the haircut) to the utterly bizarre ("Not that one, Tops." "Not that one either, Tops." "Tops: This is the one. Joe: er..." "One of the things Sid actually did invent (like the pogo): bog-paper ties." "Oy...oy...") and so forth. Most of the bizarre ones come from Joe. All the not-that-one-Tops-ing refers to Topper's inadvisable choice in hats. Oy oy refers to Paul's girlfriend.
And so on.
Okay, my Cash/Elvis/trainwreck look and I are off to pester Brainsponge and co.
BYE

A Bigger Bang

2005-11-28T14:52:00.000-08:00

Annoying Yet Lovable Git went to the Stones concert and came back with a concert T-shirt and a fixation with Mick's jokes. I AM SO BLOODY JEALOUS! Luckily he decided not to be too much of an asshole about it and we somewhat alarmed Symbolism Demon by singing "You Can't Alway Get What You Want" at the top of our lungs, very off key. I am still very very jealous though. Even Peaches was somewhat depressed. And I think Beaky is scarred for life because I joked about selling myself for Stones tickets. The worst thing is that they probably won't tour the US again before Keef dies, and if they do the tickets will be ASTRONOMICALLY expensive. This doesn't work AT ALL for the wages of a skint art student. What a pity.
Speaking of being skint, I was explaining my Cash Cycle to The Twins after thanksgiving. "So I'm skint, and then I get cash, and then I buy a New York Dolls album, and then I'm skint..." Philosophy Bloke overheard and quoted something like "the kids of today should protect themselves from the seventies..."
Speaking of further Britslang, my favorite term now is "Mod suss". C'est fantastique!
Oh, and I've added food coloring, two drops red, eight drops yellow, to the Jasper's Spiced Lemonade/Hair Dye recipe. (See "Recipes") I'll try it out after my audition.
I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would meet her connection
At her feet was a footloose man
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometime
You might find
You get what you need!

Recipes

2005-11-27T13:34:00.000-08:00

Hieronymous Anonymous posted some recipes complete with footnotes about which Brit supermarket chain had the best sundried tomatoes (or something) so I am retaliating. Three are family recipes, and the rest are from the book.

Truly Excellent Punch (J's dad's recipe)
Ginger ale
Cranberry juice
several limes
Mix ginger ale and cranberry juice to taste (less ginger ale= sour-er beverage), add lime juice to taste, and garnish with lime slices.

Jasper Breakfast
Take one bowl of granola and add half a small container (or a few scoops from a large one) of yogurt. Contrary to popular belief, eating granola does not turn you in to a hippie.

Chocolate balls a la Chambord (from Wild Raspberries)
Decorate a ten inch round silver platter with maraschino cherries, fresh mint, and almond filberts, Then call up the Royal Pastry Shop and have them deliver a pound of half inch chocolate balls, serve only with no-cal ginger ale to very thin people

Torte a la Dobosch (same source as above)
Run down to Dick Camp's and buy an old wire whisk, beat 6 eggs and 1/2 cup sugar until thick then add 1/2 cup flower sifted 7 tablespoons strong black coffee, add 5 egg whites stiffly beaten and bake in 12 springform molds on the top layer spread an orange glaze and slices of fresh pineapple Decorate with a red sweetheart rose made from spun sugar and Dr Martins dye, let the cake sit for at least 14 hrs before serving and hang the whisk on the kitchen wall above the rotisserie

J's Cinnamon Lemonade/Hair Dye
In a microwave safe mug, mix water (not too much), cinnamon (a fair amount), chili powder (a bit), powdered cloves (a bit), lemon juice (a few squeezes) and honey to taste. Microwave it until the spices are all mixed in. You can either drink it and OD on cinnamon or rub it into wet, clean hair a bit at a time and rinse out for an interesting "rosy glow" effect and a strong odor of spices.

Piglet (Wild Raspberries)
Contact Trader Vic's and order a 40 pound suckling pig to serve 15. Have Hamley take the Carey Cadillac to the side entrance and recieve the pig at exactly 6:45. Rush home immediately and Place on the open spit for 50 minutes. Remove and garnish with fresh crabapples.

(and, a personal favorite...) Gefiilte of Fighting Fish
Contact Max's fish hatchery in the Bronx and have Max send C.O.D. two plump fighting fish. Immerse them in sea water and allow them to battle until they completely bone each other Take the fillets, stir in white wine and serve completely chilled.

Please note: Wild Raspberries was co-written by Andy Warhol and is therefore more than a little ridiculous. None of the recipes from it are meant to be taken in earnest, especially since they probably only work for affluent New Yorkers circa 1962. Just a warning.
Now the war's over
Mussolini's dead
He wants to go to heaven
With a crown upon his head
The lord says NO
He's got to stay below
All dressed up
And nowhere to go!

Break

2005-11-25T13:28:00.000-08:00

After the hustle and bustle of Thanksgiving I am now really, really ready to return to my usual Break routine. I got a good start on it today, thus:
1) Woke up and lay staring at the ceiling pondering deep, existential questions such as "which of the leftovers will I eat first?", "Did somebody throw away the Thursday Arts section?" and "I wonder how long I can stare at my ceiling without getting bored out of my skull?"
2) After having been bored out of my skull, I read for a bit (Killing Yourself To Live, a funny book about rock star death sites) and got some leftover cake for breakfast.
3) Read a bit more until I finished the book and continued staring at my ceiling. I have a new poster that enchants me.
4) Showered, and went for a bikeride on my beloved cruiser, Edie Marie.
5) Came back and worked on my Blog.
6) Later in the day, I will eat more leftovers, spend more time staring at the ceiling, and eventually fall asleep knowing that "Monday's coming like a jail on wheels..."
Thank you for reading this very boring post. If you came to this site for entertainment, please read "Aboveground". It, at least, shows depth of thought.

Jasper's Escapades in the World of Culinary Hair Dye

2005-11-22T14:52:00.000-08:00

Recently I have been rather bored with my hair, so I've developed a few schemes to change it. The first involved snipping pieces off bit by bit with the nail clippers, which provided an interesting edge but didn't change the overall shape of the 'do. I haven't got the patience to give myself a total haircut.
The second involved a few attempts at natural hair dye recipes I'd read about in various herb books. Lemon juice didn't really work, and neither did a mix of lemon juice and chamomile tea. I ended up trying a mix of water, cinnamon, chili powder, cloves, lemon juice, and honey, which tasted great, smells lovely, and gave me interesting chili powder dandruff. For those of you who haven't seen me in a few days and are freaking out about this, I can assure you that my hair is virtually unchanged other than a distinct odor of cinnamon and a light "rosy glow" around the front bit. I think I'll try leaving it in a bit longer next time...
Other Random Notes:
~Finally finished "Black Angel's Death Song"/"Starman" comics for the Bro, both of which ended up being considerably trippier than I had originally intended. I haven't seen him all day and therefore do not know what he thinks.
~Went Thanksgiving shopping in a near-deserted Safeway with Herself. The store was very creepy, what with the Christmas muzak already blasting from the speakers and the beverage aisle where Coke (the beverage) and Pepsi co-exist peacefully. All the celebrity mags drearily adorning the cash registers and the slick Christmas decor made the whole scene seem rather like some Beatnik-Orwellian vision of a scary commercialized future. "I'm all lost in the supermarket, I can no longer shop happily..."
~Luckily I was able to escape into the bustling depths of our local bookstore to buy my Clash mag (which is DIVINE) and run into more people-I-know than I thought would be about- Snowy's brother, Milano Cheddar (v. awkward), and three out of four of The Royal Navy (I.e., Herself's garden-mad friend and her two sons). It was all quite peculiar.
Cheers,
Jasper "I can't tell the difference between Bob Dylan and Dylan Thomas" Ritchie (as opposed to Bert "I can't tell the difference between Bob Dylan and Bob Marley" the Hedgehog, Snowy "my parents listen to Bob Dylan and I think it's weird" the Stockfish and Joe "Bob Dylan is the Man" Strummer.)

Lookin' for a Kiss

2005-11-21T16:55:00.000-08:00

When I say I am in love, you'd best believe I am in love L-U-V!
-David JoHansen
Well, I've finally purchased an album by the NY Dolls and my oh my is it fantastic.
My L-U-V affair with the Dolls began when watching Westway to the World, the world's greatest rock doc. In it, Mick "would everybody please stop calling me a poodle?" Jones acknowledges them as one of his biggest influences and the reason he decided to have long hair. Which looked rather ghastly but that's beside the point. I later read about them in the large bright green PUNK book and in several subsequent rock bios. My favorite Sid quote from The Filth and the Fury goes "I like the New York Dolls because they had great clothes and great makeup and they played godawful rock'n'roll..."
So I bought the album and it was good.
Other slightly random notes on related or unrelated topics:
~I finally saw the new Harry Potter. It is probably the best so far because Daniel Radcliffe has finally grasped the basics of acting. Other than that it was pretty good and not nearly as twee as the others. There was a rather amusing scene in which a wizard goth-rock band plays "Do the Hippogriff" at the Yule Ball. Quite novel.
~We are finally all under the same roof again since the Bro arrived for Thanksgiving break. This time a few years ago we were off to foggy Scotland with the first ever Harry Potter book in tow. Ah, those were the days...
~Speaking of foggy Scotland, we watched a rather odd film in Latin. As in, it was entirely in Latin. A news program. Very bizarre indeed. For the weather report, this toga'd dude stood up and blamed everything on the gods, including the fact that in Britannia, it rains, "semper."
~Speaking of movies, I am now going to pull a Snowy and make a list:
Pride and Predjudice, because it's a great story and I adore Keira Knightley
Memoirs of a Geisha, because the period detail looks interesting
New York Doll, about Arthur Kane, for the obvious reasons
Narnia for the special effects if I can find a Christian symbolism filter
Walk the Line because it looks good
and Aeon Flux because it looks OK for an action flick and Snowy will probably take me anyway.
~And finally, I have earned the $$$ to go buy the special edition of Mojo featuring Joe "Hey Jiving, there's a mouse in the bucket" Strummer, Mick "I really object to all these poodle references" Jones, Paul Simonon the handsomest man to ever set a journalist on fire, and Topper "I lost the plot" Headon. YIPPEEEEEE!

Aboveground

2005-11-17T16:59:00.000-08:00

Tony went to fight in Belfast
Rudie stayed at home to starve
I could make it all worthwhile as a rock'n'roll star
Bevan wants to change the nation
Sammy wants to churn the world, well he can tell you that he tried
I can make a transformation as a rock'n'roll star
- "Star," David Bowie

I have been living on music and snow..."You Could Have It So Much Better" pumps through my head as I tramp across the slush-covered pavement, a mantra of dissatisfaction to match the moody grey skies. The air isn't quite cold enough to merit an overstuffed coat so I am able to wander unhampered, a fog spirit clad in blazer and vest.
Out the window I can see the slush melting on the fairy lights draped so elegantly over the garden. The sparkle of the snow and the crystalline drops that hang off the juniper bows contrats oddly with the grimy pavement; the bottle caps and broken glass crushed in the gutter. The resulting sheen is reminiscent of a Hollywood film from the age of glamour: Ingrid Bergman clad in a slightly destroyed gown, Marlene Dietrich's sequins in blurry black and white. The city is a wild exotic filmstar and I am an autograph-hunting fan.
I'm just a voice in your earpiece
Telling you NO! It's not all right!
You know you could have it so much better
You could have it so much better
If you tried!
I've been trying, though. I have ripped and clawed myself into a persona but I am not quite done. I am not yet ready to emerge from my chrysalis as... what? I do not know yet. It'll be interesting to see.
Today the clouds hang low over the mountains. The evergreens are outlined in snow crystals like the elfin forest of my childhood. If the town is a filmstar then the mountains are the dancing princesses, untouchable in their sparkling gowns.
But to paraphrase some feminist, an ivory pedestal is, like all small places, a prison. The world of glamour goes hand in hand with the world of elegant decay, the stylized demise of Sid and Nancy or the glamourous end of Marilyn Monroe. I could choose that life and my beautiful underground daydream, but I don't think I will. The subcurrents of the city are calling me with the scent of incense and the beat of some strange music. I will continue to live on music and snow, turning away from all the dead idols, Marilyn, Nancy, Jayne, that beautiful tragic Nico.
You're just a voice in my earpiece
Telling me NO! It's not all right
I know I could have it so much better
I could have it so much better
If I try!
The light is fading out the window, letting the fairly lights shine through with added brightness. They have the golden glow of the sequins in the costume closet or a candleflame on a dark night. The sky has turned a pearly grey to match the freezing slush on the pavement. Somewhere out there someone is playing my song on their stereo- "The Prisoner"-although they may not be thinking of me. Maybe I'll dream about rock'n'roll...if I stay aboveground. I will.

So inviting-so enticing to play the part
I can make a transformation as a rock'n'roll star!
I could do with the money (You know that I could)
I'm so wiped out with things as they are (You know that I could)
I send my photograph to my honey
And come home like a regular superstar!

First Snow and a Lot of Other Random Junk

2005-11-15T19:44:00.000-08:00

First snow of the season...just a light feather dusting accompanied by some VICIOUS cold weather, but nice nonetheless.

There was an interview with Alex Kapranos of Franz Ferdinand in New Scientist...oddly fitting since I've been wandering around with the new album stuck in my head for a few days...

Some weird things found in Rolling Stone:
Marilyn Manson is coming up with a Schiaperelli-Dali influenced perfume which I would actually buy if funds allowed
In an article on Kate Moss, the writer dropped more Clash lyric references in one sentence than I thought was possible. It ran something like "Mick Jones was the guy who criticized doped-up rock stars in his song Jail Guitar Doors and now he's rockin' his chemical casbah with Kate Moss, the ultimate treat-me-nice-party-girl?" I have yet to write them a nagging email about it, especially since Mick did have a coke habit, circa Give 'Em Enough Rope.
And, weirdest of all, SOME IDIOTS ARE CASTING ELIJAH WOOD AS IGGY POP OF ALL PEOPLE!!!!!!! This defies basic rules of nature! Not to mention common sense! Oh, agony!

Another weird thing- Just found out that Mini-Wheat and I were living in North London at around the same time...pretty freaky, huh?
And my "Underworld Daydream" has been deemed publishable material. By the RockNRoll poet herself, Lindsay Dear. Praise from Caesar is praise indeed, eh?
Off to compose more scintillating prose!
Cheers (and the remains of more coffee-induced energy than I really ought to have)
Jasper

Clarifications and notes:

2005-11-14T16:11:00.000-08:00

First off, a gooey, cream-filled Happy Birthday to Snowy-my-dear although it is several months too late.
Secondly, I have a few notes to make concerning the post "Underworld Daydream." Apparently, some people read it and began to worry about my general mental health. Just to clear things up a bit, I am not suicidal or depressed or otherwise emotionally unwell. My heart bleeds for those who are but I am not about to dash out and join them. I have too much to do.
Like make up Strike, for instance. I wasn't able to help the rest of the crew strike the set so I need to go in and do that, I'm just hoping I didn't miss the opportunity to do so. I would bite my nails with stress and worry but the idea of nail-biting has never particularly appealed to me. Plus mine are a bit too short to bite anyway.
Anyway, to make up for the unfortunate "Underworld Daydream" post, I'll write a list of happy things...or at least, things that have recently boosted my mood.
1) Blazer shopping: I love blazers passionately. I went on a shopping spree this weekend to a pair of local (or semi-local) thrift stores: the All That Glitters benefit for HospiceCare and Rockin' Robin's in Niwot. At All That Glitters I was able to find a great Debbie Harry-ish blue dress although the black velvet I tried on didn't fit. What a shame. I made up for it by getting a black velvet blazer at Rockin' Robin's, the most awesome r'n'r store in the state. They have a jukebox, for cryin' out loud! Also got a marroon job to go with my new bottlegreen flatcap. Three cheers!
2) Watch movies: recently watched the film "Saving Grace" with Brenda Blethyn of Jane Austen fame. Laughed my behind off all the way through, and I definitely reccomend it and the author commentary.
3) Listen to "Sweet Jane" until my brain drips slowly out my ears: because I love the Velvets, that's why.
4) Read hefty Clash-related books until THEY drip slowly out my ears: for more information on Jasper's AMAZING Clash habit, please see the posts "Bass Culture" and "Letter from the pits of snooze-free Hell." I'm currently counting off the days until "unspecified winter holiday" so I can get my rookers on "Sandinista!" Wheee....splat
5) ...or go get a large glass of water, which is what I shall do right now. BYE!

How to Learn Rock'n'Roll out of Books

2005-11-13T18:19:00.000-08:00

Step one: go to your local library and head to the 781 section. This is where they keep the good stuff.
Step two: select a biography of the band of you choice. Some good ones to check out: Passion is a Fashion, (Clash), England's Dreaming, (Sex Pistols), What's Welsh for Zen, (John Cale.) Read this book cover to cover. If you aren't sure which band you like best, choose an anthology like Cinderella's Big Score or PUNK.
Step three: read all the authors cited as influences by the band. Examples include J.G. Ballard, Graham Greene, and George Orwell. If a particular book is mentioned, read that as well.
Step four: find more biographies or photo books and read THEM cover to cover. Repeat step three. The Clash by Bob Gruen, and Picture This by Mick Rock are excellent photobooks.
Step five: rent or buy a guitar
Step six: go back to the 781s and find either The Complete and Utter Ignoramus's Guide to Making Not Too Horrible Noise On Six Strings (or a similar title) or a chord dictionary.
Step seven: learn three chords: Amaj, Dmaj, and Emaj. You can now play "Louie, Louie" if you get them in the right order, or the verse bit (and most of the chorus) to "Blitzkreig Bop."
Step eight: start writing your own awful lyrics and keep them in a notebook because they're too embarassing to see the light of day
Step nine: go to a used clothes store and buy either an awesome Ray Davies velvet jacket or an awesome Debbie Harry blue dress.
Step ten: now that you have learned RockNRoll out of books, torture your friends by reciting band-related dates or band members' middle names. (Mick Jones's is Geoffrey.) This is also a good conversation starter.
Cheers,
Jasper

Underworld Daydream

2005-11-07T19:53:00.000-08:00

The myriad choices of his fate
Set themselves out upon a plate
For him to choose
What had he to lose?
-"Black Angel's Death Song" more confusing musings from Lou Reed

As I paused to lick the stray drop of caramel sauce that managed to bespatter my CD player I realized that I had become very depressed. The state of the world was getting me down, keeping me in a Coca-Cola bottle to be viewed and ultimately forgotten as a piece of caffeinated, sparkling pop art. And the only soda machine that sells Coca-Cola is in the opposite direction from where I need to go. It doesn't even come in bottles.
I spent much of a day sprawled in front of the heater, flipping through the Arts section or reading more books about music and depression until my eyes lost focus on the page. I've had a birthday but I can't get my head around the new age. My pile of presents broods in a corner, books unopened, shirt unworn. I long to go out and kick something.
Rich kids these days will do anything for a thrill- buy a John Lennon album, shoplift, get baked. They want to rebel but there is nothing to rebel against. Angst and despair comes pouring out of the psychology books, off the blogs, off the pages of the newspaper. They are bored with the American dream because they prefer the great American road trip or the great American drugdream. Genuine hippies cry for them. So do I, but I still want to go kick something.
I simply can't be bothered. I am too bloody lazy to stand up, walk to the door, tie my shoes, and kick over a garbage can. I try to channel my innate violence into something creative by bruising my fingers in the guitar or the sketch pencil while other people, middle class like me or the rich and the bored, shoot smack into the veins that run through their ankles.
There are people who don jackboots and kill each other after football games. There are people who join the army and die in some faraway lonely desert. There are some shot for requesting peace, others trampled to death for going to a concert. A girl was stabbed in a hotel room and a lonely boy OD'd in a New York appartment. Rich kids die of boredom and go out to play Russian roulette with the needle: which one gets HIV? Drunks crash out on streetcorners to be kicked to death by the clockwork orange. Some of them aren't even out of high school. Teenaged boys kill people on mountain roads and we still want more: more alcohol, cheaper pot, more thrills.
Will I die?
Eventually, I suppose. I don't want to see it coming, neither from the firing squad, the suffocation, nor the needle. I've planned for life so far and I try to live by the law (at least for stupid things, like poetry books, the library is a lot cheaper than shoplifting). Secretly the young know they can live forever unless they live out the Underworld Daydream and maybe even then.
My inner self longs for hair dye and piercings and jackboots, old Undertones albums and Joe Strummer's leather jacket.

You lie, steal, cheat and deceit
In such a small small game don't you know it is wrong?
To cheat a trying man don't you know it is wrong?
To cheat a trying man don't you know it is wrong?
You better stop
It is the Wrong 'Em Boyo!
-"Wrong 'Em Boyo" original Reggae by The Rulers, ska cover by The Clash

Every day should be a holiday...

2005-11-06T13:21:00.000-08:00

(One of those songs I know I shouldn't love but I do.)
Anyway, I am now able to tell about two of my favorite holidays: Halloween and my birthday.
Halloween:
I was caught in another one of those situations when I know what my costume looks like but not what it is. After much rummaging around in my brain chambers, I finally decided to be Beauty (without my mask) and the Beast (with the mask). Other rejected options included Lady Stardust (Bowie) and Sweet Jane (Lou Reed).
Peaches, Sparkly and I holed up in Peaches's house, handing out candy to all the adorable little kids in animal suits who showed up. We accidentally offered candy to the pizza guy as well. He was not amused.
Eventually we got bored and decided to go out ourselves. For once, it wasn't snowing, so I got by without wearing several million layers. It was late so we were among the only ones still out. I could add a very poetic piece about the cotton-wool clouds and the witchy moon but I won't. Suffice to say it was wickedly fun.
My Birthday:
Birthdays strike me as a very odd reason for a celebration. When you're young, they mean "congratulations, you've lived x years without getting hit by a truck!" When you're older, it means "wow, welcome to the wonderful world of wrinkles." (Emphasize the w on wrinkles or else the alliteration doesn't work.) Anyway, it was very fun.
On the day itself we had a small family celebration in which I was showered with books books books: album covers considered as art, (or porno, if we're talking Roxy Music), a book on the great world music makers, (Bob Marley, Brian Eno, Lata Mangeshkar etc), Meet the Beatles, a book on creative political activism, and Wild Raspberries, the Warhol recipe book.
Later on, I got a custom bearhug from Pilot, and Xplode-a-Ferret tried to sing the Beatle's birthday song. It was pretty damn funny.
Yesterday, Guy Fawkes day, I had my actual friend party, during which I decided that they all know me too well: CD gift certificate from Snowy, "I'm With the Band" shirt from Brainsponge, Clash poster, badge, and pins from Joe (who is actually a girl, I call her Joe because I CAN), more books from Twin1 and Twin 2, Uncle John's Unstoppable Bathroom Reader from Jazz, that sort of thing. Oh, and chocolates. Hurray. We had a good deal of fun trying to be all black and white, with me looking unnervingly like Grace Kelly hairstylewise.
SUPERB!
Cheers, Jasper

Wild Raspberries

2005-11-04T16:07:00.000-08:00

I love birthdays, I get so many books.
One of the better ones is "Wild Raspberries" by Andy Warhol and Suzie Frankfurt. It is a recipe book for the affluent 60's New Yorker. In response to Hieronymous's recipe post, I will put up a few gems for the enjoyment of the public. Only time I have ever laughed myself silly at a cookbook.

Halloween and What I've Been Listening To

2005-11-01T20:18:00.000-08:00

Halloween- majorly fun. Peaches and SPARKLY and I handed out candy to some amazingly cute kids in fuzzy little tiger suits. Later, we roamed the dark streets in costume, soaking up the chill night air. Just this once it didn't actually snow. Wow. But more on that later, when I report on another important Fall holiday namely MY BIRTHDAY...
SO:
The Great Jasper List of What I've Been Listening To!!!
Dandy Warhols:
Not If You Were the Last Junkie on Earth "Never thought you'd be a junkie because heroin is so passe." Well not according to FAB's shirt it isn't. Then again these europeans are crazy, eh? (I'm still pissed about that.)
Every Day Should Be A Holiday, one of my favorite song circa fourth grade, I used to sit on my brother's floor while he did his homework and sing along. He recently gave me his Dandy Warhols concert shirt. It's HUGE!
Clash:
Hateful (Vanilla tapes version) I just got a used Clash book for a mere fiver and I am immensely proud of it. Anyways I love this song, both in the LP version and in the rehearsal version.
barenaked ladies:
Pinch Me- another one of those songs I associate with bro's dark red carpet
Jane- song number 436 to be about "Jane" not to mention the band Jane's Addiction...there's a girl called Jane in my art class which cracks me up.
Velvet Underground (with or without Nico):
I've been on a HUGE Velvets kick lately and I blame you, Lindsay. Anyway...
All Tomorrow's Parties-"And what costumes shall the poor girl wear..." listening to this and working on my costume for all tomorrow's parties.
Femme Fatale-"She's just a little tease" tied for fave Nico number
I'll Be Your Mirror- "reflect what you are..." see above
Waiting For The Man- Sid should've covered this one instead of "Chinese Rocks". This is another bro fave
Candy Says- gorgeous drag queen song about a gorgeous drag queen
Pale Blue Eyes- classic
What Goes On- ditto
I'm Beginning to See The Light- and I am, I really am!
After Hours- "all the people are dancing and they're having such fun, I wish it could happen to me. But if you close the door, I'll never have to see the day again."
Sweet Jane- "...and I'm in a rocknroll band!" I LOVE THIS SONG!
Kinks:
Celluloid Heroes- "Avoid treading on dearest Marilyn, because she's not very tough"
Lola- Giraffe calls me Lola...long story...
Muswell Hillbilly- this one always reminds me of the drive from San Francisco to Mendocino: "this young man has volunteered to share the music of the Kinks with you..."
Beach Boys:
Fun Fun Fun "til her daddy takes the Tbird away!"
Franz Ferdinand:
You Could Have It So Much Better- I love this song
Walk Away- "why don't you walk away no buildings will fall down why don't you walk away no quake will split the ground why don't you walk away the sun won't swallow the sky why don't you walk away statues will not cry?"
Outsiders- we ARE tho.
White Stripes
Seven Nation Army came on in a cafe, I love their cover art.

Bass Culture

2005-10-28T17:17:00.000-07:00

Snowy thinks that I oughtta put some of my confusing punk novel up but it is upstairs in my room and I am too lazy to go get it. Instead I offer a brief study of the people concerned, song lyrics included.
As of today, the only song I can play on the guitar is "The Guns of Brixton" by Paul Simonon. To my dismay, I found I could only play it in A-minor (no barre chords-HURRAH!) which is the wrong key. But it is still a fantastic tune, written by the fantastic bass player of a fantastic band.
Bass players in the Punk movement weren't very concerned with actually learning their instruments. Sid Vicious's role on the Sex Pistols album was so minimal that he used to ride a bike around the studio roof. Passerby: "You'll die if you fall off!" Sid: "Oh, is that all?"
An exception to this rule was Paul Gustave Simonon, (1955- ), the artistically talented bassist for groundbreaking punk band The Clash. He didn't originally intend to be a bass player; in fact, while Joe and Mick went to art school to meet bands, Paul got in on a scholarship because his paintings were so good. He tried to learn guitar but opted for the simpler, four-stringed bass instead. He didn't start composing his own basslines until 1979, after smashing his instrument onstage at the New York Palladium.
Earlier that year, the band had been practicing in Vanilla Studios to work on new material. Paul began playing a simple reggae bass-riff to warm up, and the rest of the band joined in. Finally, he approached Joe with a rumpled piece of paper, saying "it's got lyrics an' all..." Joe eventually convinced him to sing it, and the song remains a Clash classic.
When they kick out your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head or on the trigger of your gun?
And when the law break in
How you gonna go?
Shot down on the pavement or waiting in Death Row?
You can crush us, you can bruise us
But you'd have to answer to
Oh
The Guns of Brixton!
Fragments of the plot of the confusing Punk novel are based on this song. I can play the bassline relatively well... Perhaps I'll give up guitar...
Mr.Simonon is currently a painter. He lives in London with his wife and two sons.
(And since you ask, no, I don't have a life.)
Cheers,
Jasper

Letter From the Pits of Snooze-Free Hell

2005-10-24T17:57:00.000-07:00

...and I don't mean the one under the stage.
For some reason I am amazingly tired, I think I may be getting sick. This morning my stomach hurt so I went to get my cure-all, a can of something carbonated and caffeinated. The soda machine ate my first two quarters so I wasted an entire dollar on a measly can of soda. Which sounds really petty and awful once I see it in print. But I have a headache and one of those awful self-pity attacks that occur when I'm putting off another brush with flowchart proofs. So I'll probably finish the Orangina and doze off when my feet thaw (around 3AM).
Speaking of which I do have some brighter news. As I have said, Wikipedia is my new best friend, and I've been using it to look up all KINDS of things, including the Paul Simonon (YES I have a bass-player fetish. Get over it!) interview with 3AM magazine. So that's pretty cool. Clash fans and/or Art brats like myself should check it out.
Yeah that's about it.
Off to Wikipedia!
Cheers,
Jasper

Painting Frustration Relieved

2005-10-22T14:01:00.000-07:00

Luckily I was able to cure my painting frustration last night by drawing the fire. This was a bit difficult, especially since just as I finished one piece of log, it burned through and fell off. Currently I am in the midst of a series of acrylic fall color paintings although it is rather chilly out. I am also no longer too sleepy, despite the fact that I was up late riding the buzz of Glengarry Glen Ross.
It was fantastic. I originally went to the show because a friend's older brother had a lead role, but after I had figured out the convoluted plot, (it took me the entire first act and I won't even TRY to explain it here), I had become decidedly starstruck. Currently I am determined to join the theater company just so I can soak up the cumulative theatrical awesomeness!
And yes, I am among the few people I know who can get high off of a play.
BACK TO MY PAINTING!!!
Cheers,
Jasper

Sleepy and So Forth

2005-10-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

(...would be an implausibly good band name.)
I am sleepy and so forth from staying up painting and/or avoiding doing those really awful flowchart proofs. We've been having some lovely rainy weather, drizzle, fog, and all the associated reasons for moving to the UK, so I'm in a very painter-esque mood. For more information on this subject look up Paul Simonon on Wikipedia or read _Passion is a Fashion_, the book that contains my favorite bass-player quote.
On a completely different subject, I now give a FRIEND REPORT on the doings of all the lunkheads with whom I spend my time. ("whom." I love that word.)
Snowy has been doing well in her own quiet way, we're going to a play tonight.
Xplode a Hippie is as annoying as ever, "WHY do you keep on F***ing attacking me?" It takes her a lot of effort to swear properly
Peaches is as stressed and overworked as ever, but still a lovely person
Beaky continues to investigate CJ's love life
CJ is in another prolonged hissy fit
Scotland hugged me when I gave him a free ticket voucher for the play, which is pretty damn weird if you know him like I do. I've known Beaky since preschool and I don't hug him either
And I, Jasper, twitched my way through the day due to the large amounts of caffeine I inflicted on my fragile liver too early in the morning.
TGIF

Post Without a Title

2005-10-19T18:02:00.000-07:00

I have too many subjects this time to title this, hence the oxymoronic phrase.
First off: In all my top tens, HOW COULD I HAVE POSSIBLY FORGOTTEN THE KINKS???? Really my own stupidity amazes me at times.
Updated Top Ten Britrock Bands:
1) Clash
2) Pistols
3) Kinks
4) Stones
5) Beatles
6) Spiders from Mars/Stardust era Bowie
7) Smiths
8) Franz Ferdinand
9) John Cale solo work
10) Floggin Molly
Secondly, I am now deeply in love with Amanda Parker of the Dresden Dolls. I'd marry her if I could. (After all, it is legal in Massachusetts...the band is from Boston. So it works.) Anyway, Mum (not my real mum, but a friend/mother figure of mine who hangs out in the library) burned their CD for me and I spent last night listening to it over and over. Since it is a burned CD I don't know all the track titles, but I liked the first one, "God, it's been a lovely day, everything's been going my way, I've had so much fun today and I'm on fire...", "Girl Anacronism" their local hit, "Coin Operated Boy", and the creepy one to the tango tune. Wow.
Thirdly there is a really good-smelling cake sitting on the counter top and I have to go make the icing (and then do my math and then go to sleep) so I have to go now.
BYE!

You Could Have It So Much Better

2005-10-17T18:43:00.000-07:00

The last message you sent said I looked really down
That I oughtta come over and talk about it, well
I wasn't down, I just wasn't smiling at you yeah!

Hurrah for Alex Kapranos. Today is "Random Song Lyrics and Other Music Related Stuff" day so if that sounds boring please sign off now, yes?
Right, so, the absolutely definitive list of Top Ten greatest rock bands:
1) The Clash (really no surprise here to those who know me)
2) The Sex Pistols (includes Sid Vicious solo work)
3) The Velvet Underground
4) The Rolling Stones
5) The Ramones
6) The Beatles
7) Franz Ferdinand
8) The Smiths
9) The Pretenders
10) Blondie
As you can tell I'm in to the old stuff (apart from Franz Ferdinand). Also that all but two of the bands on that list start with the word "The" which is nonexistent in Latin. Just thought I'd point that out.
(Sing, Michael, sing!) On the route of the 19 Bus, we hear them saying
How you get so rude and a reckless?
Don't you be so crude and a feckless
You been drinking brew for breakfast
Rudie can't fail!
Ironic given that Mick Jones hated when his Nan called him "Michael." Joe avoided the issue by referring to him mostly as "Jonesy" and Paul Simonon as "Simmo." This is a source of great amusement to me.
Well we all need someone we can lean on
And if you want it, babe, well you can lean on me.
Yeah we all need someone we can lean on
And if you want to, well you can lean on me.
Really I wonder how Mick Jagger's lips have maintained their amazing size all these years while actresses half his age are already getting collagen. If he marketed his secret he'd be a rich man. Oh wait, he is already.
Top Ten British Bands/Artists
1 Clash
2 Pistols
3 Stones
4 Beatles
5 Smiths
6 Ziggy Stardust era Bowie
7 Franz Ferdinand
8 Pink Floyd
9 Led Zeppelin
10 Flogging Molly
There's no point in asking, you'll get no reply
And just remember, I don't decide
I've got no reason, it's all too much
You'll always find me out to lunch!
Oh we're so pretty, oh so pretty
We're VACANT! (2x)
I really honestly love the Sex Pistols. Deeply so. Also, here are a few extracts from the Franz Ferdinand Fact File ( alliteration is the corniest technique on earth): Their song "Eleanor Put Your Boots On" is about the lead singer of the Fiery Furnaces, while "Love and Destroy" is about the main character of _The Master and Margarita_, my favorite Russian novel. I need that song.
Punk Bass Players In Order of Fanciability:
1) Paul Simonon
2) Sid Vicious (although the term "bass player" may be stretching it a bit, poor Simon)
3) Glen Matlock
4) Captain Sensible
5) Dee Dee Ramone (by no stretch of the imagination is Dee Dee hot, but he is still better than the rest of the band.)
In closing, I ask you all to remember that
There's a starman waiting in the sky
He'd like to come and meet us but he thinks he'd blow our minds
There's a starman waiting in the sky
He's told us not to blow it cos he knows it's all worthwhile
He told me "Let the children use it,
Let the children loose it
Let all the children boogie."

Random Scrapings from the Icing Bowl of Life

2005-10-15T13:54:00.000-07:00

Oh the joys of the internet. I've been around looking at other people's blogs, good stuff. "Meeting" people who are probably not psychos is one of the fantastic things about the web. A fairly cool blog I've been reading off and on is "Happiness is a Warm Gun," good for music lovers or the people who read teenaged angst novels. It's great!
And now I must go reorg my brother's CDs
Adieu!

The Great Jasper List of Political Things That Made Me Go "Eh?":

2005-10-13T19:48:00.000-07:00

1) Lyndon LaRouche runs for office nearly every election. He is classified as an Independent candidate and his archenemy is the Queen of England. Supposedly she is responsible for the world cocaine market, and at the beginning of the Falklands war, the UK should have been nuked off the planet. I'm surprised he didn't use "God Save the Queen" as his campaign song.
2) Explode-a-Ferret, Fanciable Austrian Bloke et al were having a discussion of Political Moments That Make Us Go "Eh?" so naturally Explode-a-Ferret brings up Italy. He starts talking about how Mussolini's fascist/porn star granddaughter holds an important position in the Italian government. Fanciable Austrian Bloke said "well, she's not that bad!" Explode-a-Ferret stared at him in horror for a moment or two before saying "I don't even WANT to know!" It would have been funny if it stopped there, but supposedly FAB meant politically.
3) Our state capital, Denver, is the national headquarters for the Prohibition Party, promising a dry nation if elected. Their meetings generally draw about twenty people, all conservative Christians and many of them related.
4) Explode-a-Ferret says that in the UK you can run for parliament for 500 quid which leads to some rather peculiar political situations. Like Screaming Lord Sutch, for instance. Apparently his campaign is based on stilts and scary hats, and when they read his name on the TV he makes menacing faces. I've heard about him on the News Quiz but I haven't googled him yet. Info about him would be greatly appreciated.
5) In Austria, the Social Democrats are the punk party. They use Vienna slang and they don't come off as terribly well educated.
6) Back to the "Run for Parliament: Cheap!" issue: a reporter wounded in Sarajevo won an election because he was running against, among others, the candidate from the Aztec Transvestite Party. I don't even want to know.
If any of you have a List of Political Moments That Made You Go "Eh?" please send 'em in.
In the same vein, there was a note in New Scientist about French road signs. (It was on their list of road signs that made them go eh, I stole the idea and went a bit nuts). On a ring road, one sign read "Toutes Directions" whereas the other read "Autres Directions." The correspondent, worried that choosing an "other" direction instead of an "all" direction would land him in a weird French alternate reality, went towards "Toutes Directions."

Doll Face

2005-10-10T14:45:00.000-07:00

Since we have at long last decided that we are too old for trick-or-treating, amicae mea and I have decided to put on a show for the innocent kiddies that come knocking and asking for packaged sugar high. This involves a "living doll" seated on my porch wrapped in Snowy's cloak and wearing a mask of my design. I am going to have fun making this as elegant and creepy as I possibly can.
Recently I have found a certain charm in the creepier aspects of china dolls. The New York Dolls managed to look gorgeous and threatening at the same time, delightfully campy but tough under all the makeup. A local band, the Dresden Dolls, as picked up the tradition and their poster is gorgeous: a doll-faced guy holding a switchblade between his teeth. I wish I could steal one for my room.
Also there is the well-established Courtney Love tradition of babydoll/kinderwhore dresses but I don't think I'll be buying into that anytime soon. Poor Frances, born to the founders of grunge when all she wants to do is be preppy.
So I'm planning to have fun with that, eh? And be prepared for a scare...but a very elegant one.
I'm not a magician.
I am wearing a bright red jacket.
Cheers, Jasper

__ is like _. You're only ____ing yourself!

2005-10-10T00:27:00.000-07:00

Three cheers for Hitchcock, that's his quote. You can fill in the blanks. Because I ought to be cleaning my room or studying at the moment, but instead I'm further stressing myself out by blogging instead. Oh well, I have the last track from You Could Have It So Much Better stuck in my head. (Incidentally by Hitchcock I don't mean the horror film bloke, but a friend of mine who impersonated him in Eighth grade. The name stuck)
Plus I found a copy of _Trainspotting_ on my brother's bookshelf. It is calling me....
Yeah I actually didn't have a point this time so I'm not rambling in an unnecessary manner, three cheers for Jasper dear.
Okay I'm done.

TAKE ME OUT

2005-10-08T16:19:00.000-07:00

Well, people, the moment we have all been waiting for has arrived, and the new Franz Ferdinand album is in stores. Unfortunately I was beyond skint when I recieved the good news and was forced to sob and beat my pillow (well, not really) but luckily Herself pays for garden chores so I earned it washing windows. I haven't listened to it yet but it's sitting by my elbow while I type, the Pop Art cover teasing me. The girl in the photo is stunningly gorgeous, even in that awful hat. I love album covers, they make me want to draw.
Speaking of which I'm working on another Groovy Pencil Drawing in art class, this time of a shoe, a Clash photo, and (eventually) the Coca Cola label held together with safety pins. Safety pins are truly a wonder of fastening technology. Simply put they rock.
Other than that I don't really have much else to write, except I finally watched the movie version of High Fidelity last night. The book was better but the movie was pretty awesome as well.
I went to the Franz Ferdinand website (hey, it's understandable, they're my favorite living rock band along with the Hot IQs) and read some of Alex Kapranos' blog. "No, I'm not a magician, but I'm wearing a red jacket." Not a direct quote, for his own words see www.franzferdinand.co.uk, it's a fantastic and very arty website. From reading the lyrics the new album sounds darker but I'm looking forward to it anyway.
I've lost count of days to my birthday but it's 3 November 2005 and if you forget my locker again I will ram my fist down your throats, you irresponsible wanks. Only joking. Ha ha.
So I'm off to clean my room and listen to You Could Have It So Much Better.
That's all the news from Art-Brat-Introspection-Land.
Wishing you peace, happiness, and deep fried Mars Bars,
Jasper

Pop Art

2005-10-03T18:56:00.000-07:00

I often jog down to the local library to feed my ever-growing hunger for entertaining reading material. On my latest trip I checked out a wonderful volume entitled _I'll Be Your Mirror: Interviews with Andy Warhol_ or words to that effect. "I'll Be Your Mirror" is a Velvet Underground song. It is very entertaining.
"...and we said Let us interview you as a spokesman for Pop art, and he said No, let me interview you. We said No, let us interview you. And he said Fine, if I can answer with Yes or No.
"Question: What is Pop art?
Answer: Yes.
Question: Good way to do an interview, isn't it?
Answer: Yes."
(Not quite exact quotes, I don't have the book handy and I don't feel like getting up to fetch it.)
Later on in the interview we find that, for Andy, Coca Cola (NOTE THE C's) symbolizes "pop."
It is fantastique.
Your non-French-speaking friend,
Jasper

Branston Pickle

2005-10-02T00:43:00.000-07:00

Just had a cheese-and-pickle sandwich for lunch, good stuff, that. Peaches dear has managed to comment on my blog, but then again so has Xplode-a-Hippie. If she is ever found murdered in an alley I will give myself up to the cops even if I didn't do it. And I have "Stop the World" stuck in my head again: The banknotes of Europe, the emperors and kings/ Curling in the autumn with the burning of the leaves/ I cleaned my black guitar...

ALL MUSIC BRATS MUST DIE!!!

2005-09-27T17:08:00.000-07:00

Of course I don't mean that literally, some of my dearest friends are in Choir or Orchestra. But why must they move our platforms-nay, our masterpiece in progress- around so that they can perform on OUR stage??? I mean, seriously!

Granola

2005-09-26T20:08:00.000-07:00

I've decided to emulate Snowy's habit of writing longish blog posts with no real point because there is really nothing better to do. Today I'm going to discuss the merits of granola. Great stuff, that.
Perhaps I ought to explain. See, I grew up in a fairly hippie-ish town snuggled up to the Rocky Mountains. Its many marvellous attributes include gallons of fresh air, pretty mountains, a healthy athleticized culture, cheap pot-scented incense to pollute the fresh air, and granola. I have learned to love that stuff.
My dad buys the cheapest granola on offer, which varies from day to day. This means that I never know quite what to expect when I open the canister for an after-dinner snack: Ginger? Cherry Vanilla? Honey-Oat-Nut? Tropical Fruit? I do not lie, these are all potential granola species with the possible exception of tropical fruit, although that one thing did taste suspiciously of dried pineapple...
Anyway I suppose granola is my middle class American hippie-brat equivalent of paste circa 1976. Great story behind that:
(It's best in Paul's own words but I'm afraid I don't have it memorized. I do my best to duplicate. Try reading it in a "croaky South London brogue" for best results.)
So we'd been putting up posters for A Night of Treason, right, and we was all quite hungry. There was nothing to eat, really, an' it was too late to get anything. We'd been putting up posters with this flour-and-water paste and there was some left in the bucket. So I said to the guys "Hey, d'you think we could eat that?" Now Bernie had this saw, right, and it was Bernie's special saw, y'know, nobody touches the saw. So I took the saw and heated it up over our fire and made the paste into sort of a little cake, and it cooked. I had some and it wasn't too bad cos I was so hungry. But nobody else wanted any, for some reason.

TNT and Pinkish Punch

2005-09-25T12:07:00.000-07:00

Amicae mea succeeded in making my act my age by dragging me off to a dance. From beginning to end it was rather fun, however, apart from the rap. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I started talking about my central point right away and I really don't wish to spoil it.
Hokay, so I show up at MJF's house bearing all my overnight kit, meaning a pillowcase stuffed with the contents of a small city as well as my bulging green sleeping bag. She frets about eyeliner while I debate whether or not I should wear my padlock. Brainsponge arrives, insisting on minimal makeup and bearing a book. Peaches and Pilot show up, Peaches being overenthusiastic and Pilot attempting to calm her. We don dresses and descend the stairs to the oohs and aahs of those assembled. After taking a full newspaper's worth of photos, they finally agree to drive us to our destination.
We eventually get inside (after a brief moment of panic concerning my coinpurse), and suss out the scene. Peaches tries to dance, Brainsponge gripes about the noise, and Pilot goes off to join her volleyball crew. And then I tried the punch.
For some reason it is obligatory to have punch at parties. Some genius decided to capitalize on this by packaging watery pinkish food coloring as an edible substance with only a few warning labels. When we first walked past the punch cooler we decided that the stoners had probably spiked it; after we tried some we realized we were right. For a beverage that bad it was actually amazingly addictive. (Hey, three a's in a row. Wow.)
Luckily we didn't die of punch poisoning and the DJ finally emerged from his headphones long enough to play a decent song, "TNT" by AC/DC. It was great!
Take one punker grrrl. Add several overenthusiastic friends and one makeup bag. Take the mixture to a dance. Sprinkle in a little spiked punch. Add adrenaline and associated hormones brought on by close proximity to amazingly fanciable lads. Turn up the volume on the already booming amps. Add "TNT" and WATCH ME EXPLODE!!!
The short and long of it is that I ended up doing the pogo on top of a wobbly cement bench. I am forever indebted to Sid Vicious for inventing that dance, and to Siouxsie Sioux for pissing him off. YEAH!!!
Of course there were other curious incidents, such as a 6'1" girl walking down the stairs with a 5'0" guy, or the stoner wandering around red-eyed and staggering, or a rather bizarre conversation conducted in the relative privacy afforded by a pillar, (please remind me to kiss that pillar on Monday, it is my new best friend), but these I will explain in depth later.
After the dance we went to Brainsponge's pulchra villa for gossip and pizza and a few episodes of Peaches' new favorite sitcom, Smallville. Funnily enough one episode was indeed about spiked punch, only their's was green. I ended up counting down the hours until 10:25 tomorrow, when I will be rapidly exiting biology hell to rejoin my faithful graffiti table in Gov. Hmm, 20:53 now.

A Safety Pin, a Sneer, and a Pair of Bondage Trousers

2005-09-24T09:48:00.000-07:00

(And again, I resist using the red font.)
Argh I slept in too much this morning and I wasn't even up all that late.
I do have a point. Really!
As you may (not) have guessed from the title, my post today concerns that greatest of 20th century rock bands, The Clash. (And please don't feed me any waffle about how Led Zeppelin was better, musically, stylistically, blah blah blah. Sure they have a few great songs: "Going to California," "When the Levee Breaks," and the inevitable "Stairway to Heaven," but really who in their right mind can play a twenty-minute drum solo or molest an octopus without coming off as a perverted idiot? The entire Led Zeppelin saga is simply further proof that rock stars are not normal people.)
Anyway, I'm not going to give you The Story of the Clash Volume One, (not the album. No way am I parting with that), although I probably could. Instead I am simply going to quote Billy Bragg and say that "without the Clash, punk would have been a safety pin, a sneer, and a pair of bondage trousers." Only today they sell for $60 a pair at Hot Topic. Actaully that is not a direct quote seeing as I don't remember the original quotation but really people that is besides the point!
Anyhoo they are a great band and I can strongly reccomend them to any fan of Green Day, Good Charlotte, Rancid, or any of those other rich kids masquerading as Strummer's Last Stand.

Like T-Shirt, Like Brain

2005-09-22T16:43:00.000-07:00

I still need to upload my photos but for the moment my blog is regretably photoless. Apologies. Please allow me to grovel at your feet. You know it really bothers me that there is no longer a word for you-plural in English. I think I'll go back to using "thee" for you-singular, as in "Yarbles! Bolshy great yarblockos to thee and thine!" in _A Clockwork Orange_ by Anthony Burgess.
This has nothing to do with my main point. Whoops.
My point is T-shirts. I've determined that you-plural can tell a lot about a person by which T-shirt they are wearing. The following is an in-depth analysis HA GREAT WORD, THAT of various T-shirts seen around. Being one of them musical types I'm focusing on band T-shirts today.
Killers shirts: Given that the Killers graced Red Rocks with their presence recently, the large percentage of Killers shirt-wearers is not surprising. These shirts tend to be worn by girls of the trendy set, usually with coordinated accesories and cute shoes. The music appeals to them because it's pretty, catchy, and gets a lot of radio airplay. New-new-wave rock is the hot new item.

Franz Ferdinand T-shirts: Franz Ferdinand will also be enlivening the Colorado rock scene while they tour to promote their upcoming album. They play "music for girls to dance to" although their shirts are mostly worn by guys. Trying to pick up chicks? Because they have an artsy logo, natty suits, and a garage-guitarpop sound, they are appealing to the masses. Therefore an FF shirt does not denote a rebellious spirit.

Led Zeppelin shirts: These are very thick on the ground, especially those advertising Led Zeppelin IV, or ZOSO. There are several good reasons for their popularity: a) the album is among the highest-selling records of all time, b) it's got a nifty logo, and c) Stairway to Heaven. Need I say more?

Ramones shirts: These are nearly as common as Killers T-shirts and are often worn by the same set. The sad thing is that people will pick up a shirt because of the "Hey! Ho! Let's Go!" logo and wear it without even listening to the music. In many cases it comes off as a pitiful attempt at rebellion, or simply a really good shirt.

Beatles shirts: Although supposedly "phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust," (yeah STRUMMER!!!), everybody still loves the Beatles, okay?
Rolling Stones shirts: Ditto. Only this time it's "no Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones in 1977." (And yet this song was written by Mick Jones, Keef impersonator extraordinaire!)

New York Dolls shirts: Only one so far but I'm hoping the trend catches. I don't own a single Dolls album and yet I still think they rock. Plus they really had style, from Johnny Thunders's lipstick to Sylvain Sylvain's halter tops. Doesn't get much better. Plus, anyone wearing a Dolls shirt must know something about underground rock, or else they wouldn't have the shirt.

Velvet Underground shirts: Hurrah for Warhol slam-bam. More excellent underground rock that denotes an arty personality and a liking of bananas. "Peel slowly and see."

Green Day shirts: I saved the best for last. Since Green Day came over the weekend, everybody has been mooning over Billy Joe. Although I applaud the political motivation of the group, I prefer Franz Ferdinand for musical skill and the Clash for everything, style included. The sad thing is, we're having entertainers, nay, media giants telling us not to believe "the redneck agenda" put out by the national media. They conveniently forget to say that they are a part of the media they so fear. Yeah they've joined the church.

And finally, Blondie shirts are for sale at Nordstrom, bearing the low, low price of $77 apiece GREAT WORD, THAT. To look at that price and remember that Debbie Harry shopped at thrift stores is a sad thing indeed.
Thus I conclude the ideology of tshirts lecture. Nuff said.

Next On The List!

2005-09-21T19:12:00.000-07:00

Since I posted my worshipful Sid and Nancy review I have ceased walking into chairs and have mostly regained my normal accent. I no longer leave a wide track of smashed furniture in my wake and really only my vowels come out funny. Which is relatively normal. I'm sure you were all dying to hear that, huh?
As usual I do have a point but it's taking me rather a while to get there. Sorry.
OKAY!!! Point for the day: Jasper's List of Essential Punk Movies and other things of general public (dis)interest.
I formed my movie list a while ago, at roughly the same time I started amassing titles for my booklist. I'm adding to it all the time, but this is where it's at now, at its best and most essential form:
Westway to the World: * * * * *
This is definitely one of my very favorite movies, a rockdoc that isn't as typical as the rest. It has everything: great music, great interviews, and great stories. Mick talks about music, (the Kinks, the Stones, his infatuation with Keef Richard), Joe talks about the folklore behind the music, (how really rock'n'roll never dies, and how important it is to keep it alive and growing, branching out into new genres as you go), Topper gets teary-eyed about his heroin habit, and Paul tells some hilarious stories about his bandmates and the life on the road, (so when I first saw Mick Jones all I could see was his hair, wif a li'l bit of nose pokin' out...)
The Filth and the Fury: * * * *1/2
Oh, if only it weren't for Malcolm McLaren...
The End of the Century: * * * * * for sheer laugh value.
This is a documentary that manages to be nearly as funny as Spinal Tap. It really proves that, to paraphrase Time Out, brothers stick together even when they hate each other and aren't really brothers. To quote the late great Dee Dee: ONECHEWTHREEFAW!!!!
This Is Spinal Tap: * * * * *
The comic genius of Christopher Guest gives us this hilarious rock doc. It pokes fun at everything, from splashy light shows to drummers. You know how it's usually the drummer that dies?
Brighton Rock: * * * * *
Wonderfully creepy British noir thriller, with superb acting all around, especially Richard Attenborough as the sinister Pinkie Brown. Good fun.
Sid and Nancy: * * * * *
'Nuff said.

Regrets, I've had a few...

2005-09-19T11:12:00.000-07:00

...But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
And so it proves without exemption
I've planned each charted course
Each careful step along the highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
For those of you expecting a Frank Sinatra homage (though why you would expect that, I can't imagine) sign off now. This has nothing to do with Sinatra whatsoever GREAT WORD , THAT.
And today the post actually has something to do with the title. Amazing.
Sadly for me and even more sadly for you, there are people out there deprived of their daily dose of Jasper insanity given through the pages of Lunch The Musical. This post is for them, since much of the material here will be covered in today's comic. So here goes.
Last night I had the opportunity to watch Alex Cox's cinematic masterpiece, Sid and Nancy. I was catapulted into punk heaven from the word go.
A bit of background on the film:
A few days ago in Art, I showed my truly awesome art teacher a few pencil sketches I had done of noted Punk/Post Punk figures: Chrissie Hynde, Joey Ramone, Debbie Harry, Sid Vicious, Cyndi Lauper, Johnny Rotten, Joe Strummer, and Paul Simonon. She looked down at the sheet and after a brief pause yelled "SID!!!" "Uh, yes indeed," I said, hoping to have found a kindred Sid worshipper. "Did you see the movie?" she asked, "it was pretty depressing." I hadn't seen the film but had spent many long, bored hours reading reviews of it: Amazon.com, Time Out, and The Video Hound's Golden Movie Retriever. (Yes, we natives of Beefburger-Skyscraper-and-Yellowcabland are far too fond of our dogs.) I had put it on the top of my Jasper's Fairly Sordid List of Punk Movies but I thought there was no way Herself would let me see it. Luckily I thought wrong.
It is indeed a very depressing movie, from the opening moment when a catatonic Sid Vicious is found sitting on a bloodsoaked matress. But really it is a brilliant film, with so much attention to detail that
a) When Sid is ushered out of the Chelsea Hotel, surrounded by cops and reporters, there is a moment when the frame is a perfect replica of one of the newspaper photos about the incident
b) On the album Sid Sings, he begins the song "My Way" by saying "You wanna hear My Way all told?" In the movie he begins the song this exact way
c) They got his actual chainlink necklace for the actor Gary Oldman to wear
d) Malcolm McLaren is picture perfect: "But Sidney, as a Sex Pistol all your earthly needs are met! You have food, a place to stay, designer clothing. Why could you possibly need money?"
e) and there is Clash graffiti in one of the clubs.
Despite all the depressing stuff, there are some very sweet scenes that would cause my romance-loving friend Peaches to squeal with glee, and the acting is absolutely superb.
AAAAGH it's brilliant.
I was left with a pretty atrocious North London accent and a tendency to walk into chairs afterwards. I almost knocked over a lamp because I rammed into the table carrying the laundry basket. This shows how profoundly moved I was. Really.
Cheers,
Jasper
P.S. Where could I get a pizza?

Beauty Black and Blue

2005-09-16T18:14:00.000-07:00

I'm known for my long e-mails consisting solely of song lyrics, and recently I've formed a fixation with "No Feelings" by the Sex Pistols and "Frankly Mr. Shankly" by the Smiths. These songs recently prompted me to write a good if slightly disturbing lyric of my own, so I'm printing the relevant bits here.
Frankly Mr Shankly
Frankly Mr Shankly this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul
I want to leave, you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history (etc.)

No Feelings
I've seen you in the mirror When the story began And I fell in love with you I love yer mortal sin Yer brains are locked away But I love your company I only ever leave you when you got no money I got no emotions for anybody else You better understand I'm in love with my self My beatiful self A no feelings a no feelings A no feelings For anybody else Hello and goodbye in a run around Sue You follow me around like a pretty pot of glue I kick you in the head you got nothing to say Get out of the way 'cos I gotta get away You never realise I take the piss out of you You come up and see me and I'll beat you black and blue Okay I'll send you away I got no feelings a no feelings No feelings for anybody else Except for my self my beatiful self dear There ain't no moonlight after midnight I see you stupid people out looking for delight Well I'm so happy I'm feeling so fine I'm watching all the rubbish You're wasting my timeI look around your house and There's nothing to stealI kick you in the brains When you get down to kneel And pray you pray to your god No feelings a no feelingsNo feelings for anybody else Except for my self (OK, so that's nearly the entire song. Sue me, I'm a Pistols fanatic.)

Plus "The Flowers of Romance" has been a Pistols song, a PiL album, and a Sid Vicious backing band. Anyway here's my pitiful tune which references these:
Moonlight enfolds you
It's tragic, it's holy
Romance surrounds you
It's killing you slowly
I love you, I hate you
You're painful, you're lonely
I'll watch you, I'll stalk you
My heart's for you only
Oh, Beauty black and blue
Don't let it murder you
The flowers of romance
Have long ago faded
Please save me your last dance
You know that I'll hate it
We ought to be living
The life of the dreamers
I'll watch you there dancing
Beneath golden streamers
Oh, Beauty black and blue
Don't let it murder you
My sorrow, my beauty
Are paler than moonlight
I know you don't see me
It's dark after midnight
My brain's locked away
And I know you don't miss me
I'm lost, it's okay
I'm in musical history
Beauty black and blue
Don't let it murder you

Look, Snowy, It Ain't Red!!!

2005-09-14T19:56:00.000-07:00

(one of those posts that have nothing to do with the title. I'm writing in aqua in honor of my beloved new cruiser. Read on.)
Yay, Jasper got a bike! The bike, officially and fully titled Absolutely Sweet Edie Marilynne, Queen of All Rockabilly Cruisers, (Edie Marie for short), is painfully slow uphill, murderously fast downhill, and gorgeous, making her absolutely suited to me. The name comes from a Bob Dylan song (Note to BertHedgehog: Bob Dylan is the one who is still alive. Note to Snowy: Bob Dylan rocks! Note to self: Bob Dylan is not a Welsh poet.) "Absolutely Sweet Marie," a Warhol muse, Edie Sedgwick, and Marilyn Monroe with a few extra letters. I was chronically affected as a child by a picture book about a lady who named her wheelbarrow.
I had a point when I began writing, I swear...
Oh yes, the joys of haunting the library.
My dear friend Peaches has a good deal of trouble getting her geometry completed on time. (As do I but I at least start the damn stuff.) Therefore I spend a good deal of time supervising her in the library with some hefty Clash-related book pretending to read or just having a good snizz. (My regime of 10:30 PM to 6:00 AM has made it possible for me, like Paul Simonon, to sleep on cue.) But recently other beings have been haunting the library. Other beings of note. HA HA HA HA!!!
.
Incidentally for all those somewhat confused by my Blog name, I am in fact a female of the species as explained in my profile. I go by "Jasper" because it's a cool word not to mention a gorgeous mineral (poppy jasper...aah the connotations of that) and "Ritchie" because it is a time- or at least Kurt Cobain-honored alias plus Sid isn't using it at the moment. RIP, mate.
Which leads me through the channels of my twisted mind to my last scintillating HA GREAT WORD, THAT point: WHAT IS IT WITH SCOTS AND VODKA?????? Really! Two of the members of Franz Ferdinand met in an argument over vodka. Hieronymous et al request vodka donations for the BDP. What is the mystique? Or maybe it's because I'm only part Scots and have been living in Beefburger-skyscraper-and-yellowcabland for too long.
Whatevs, maaan.
...and deep inside you, a tiny voice whispers "Come to the dark side. You know it's true. Warhol really is God."
Cheers,
Jasper.

Sid Sings

2005-09-10T17:36:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back from another pitiful attempt to coax my pallid, Irish-American hide into some semblance of a proper tan. Ordinarily I do not sunbathe because I have so much else to do, but today I had to work on a science note-taking assignment so I decided to increase my likelihood of getting cancer while doing so.
To keep my interest cemented onto the page, I brought out my CD book and Discman so that I wouldn't be bored to death. This led to my re-discovery of the 1980 album Sid Sings. And, O my brothers and sisters, it is great!
Background info:
In 1977 (I hope I got to heaven...) Cook, Jones, and Rotten decided that they were sick of Glen Matlock, and his "waffling on about nice things, like the Beatles." Matlock was sick of Rotten's ego trips, so he left the group. This left them without a bass player. Ooh, what are we gonna do now? Luckily for the remaining Sex Pistols, Johnny Rotten's best friend was learning the bass. He wasn't very good, in fact he was terrible, but he looked the part and had an amphetamine habit to match. Sid Vicious was promptly installed in the group. This was not a good idea. Perhaps Sid could have detoxed and learned to play, but later that year he met Nancy.
Nancy was a junkie who came to England on the coat-tails of the Heartbreakers. She nauseated the rest of the group, but the more they disliked her, the more Sid was attracted to her. She introduced him to the junkie existence and it all went downhill from there. The Pistols broke up in 1978 during a disastrous US tour in which Sid was routinely awakened by cattle prod.
After the rest of the band split up and went their seperate ways, Sid and Nancy moved to New York to be near the scene created by Television, the Ramones, and the New York Dolls. To earn drug money, Sid performed a few dates at Max's Kansas City, with Clash man Mick Jones on guitar. One of these shows was taped and released after Sid's death as "Sid Sings".
This is a gem of an album, containing such musical treasures as "Born to Lose," "Search and Destroy," "Somethin' Else," the junkie anthem "Chinese Rocks," and Sid's horrendous version of "My Way." Since it is live, one also hears the remarks of the audience and Sid's narcissistic replies.
Sid: If you want a personal touch, I can't be ****ing bothered.
Fan: You're a poseur!
Screaming girls: Sid, you're a rock star!!!
Sid: Why don't you shut your ****ing mouth?
Sid: It's really swell to be here, maaaan.
Sid: Was that the personal touch you all wanted?
This is a great album but sadly out of print. It's still for sale on Amazon, which means that there are still people dumb enough to actually sell it. Buy a copy or the updated but not necessarily live edition, "Search and Destroy."
NOW, DAMNIT, NOW!!!!!!!!!!!

How to be a Punk: The Reading List

2005-09-03T13:19:00.000-07:00

(Teal today, people.)
Over the past six months or so, I have been conducting a detailed study in How to be a Punk. This does not mean simply listening to "Pretty Vacant" ad infintum. No, there is a literary element to Punk as well. Below I present a list of books guaranteed to make you feel pretty vacant.
THE LIST:
A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess.
Yarbles, what a horrorshow book! This is the perfect complement to a chasha of milky chai and Ludwig van's ninth. I only have two warnings to give any malchick or devotchka who wants to read this: First and foremost, it is a very violent book. The imagery is very dark and it describes the lowest level of the human condition. Definitely not for the faint of heart. Second, it is written in nadsat-speak, making it largely indecipherable. Who knows what "devotchka" means (besides of course a good band)? Listening material: Never Mind the Bollocks
Brighton Rock,by Graham Greene
The author is namechecked by John Cale on Paris 1919, Paul Simonon and Johnny Rotten cite it as an influence, and the book becomes an overnight punk-junkie classic. Its fame is well deserved. (Yes, I named my guitar after it.) Listening material: Clash UK or "The Guns of Brixton" on London Calling
1984, by George Orwell
This is similar to Clockwork Orange in that it deals with the scary world of the future, but it has an even stranger premise. The government, headed by Big Brother (he is watching you...) can edit the past. Doublethink. Get out speedwise. (More invented slang in this one.) Listening material: London Calling
The Best Short Stories of J.G. Ballard
More Orwellian prose put in a SciFi setting. A must for those who like dark humor or philosophical thought. Listening material: The Essential Clash, disc 2
The Crying of Lot 49, by Thomas Pynchon
I have seen paranoia and its name is Pynchon. This is a wonderful, weird, wacky story about rival mail services (I kid you not) set in post-Beatlemania California. It has wonderfully bizarre characters, like Oedipa the confused housewife, Hilarius the crazy shrink, and the Paranoids, a Beatlemaniac rock band. The perfect pop art novel.Listening material:The Queen is Dead, by the Smiths
Happy reading! Keep sniffing, you punks!

Brighton Rock

2005-09-02T18:04:00.000-07:00

(Hey, I recently found that I actually could change my font color so we're going with red.)
Right, this is one of those times that the title has little or nothing to do with the rant du jour. (And in case you were wondering, I don't speak French well either.) The real topic for the day is politics. And _Brighton Rock_ as well because it is an awesome book, but this is its only mention. Maybe.
Ok enough dithering. I present: THE CARTOON REASON FOR THE WAR IN IRAQ! (Please note: this is an informal, comedic, and way oversimplified version of the story and not valid material for any college thesis.)
If we cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq
If the economy hurts your mama, bomb Iraq
If we're breaking all the rules and the public thinks we're fools
If we cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq!
Really it all started as a non sequitir in Bush's brain. Of course, the public demanded a reason WHY we ougt to bomb them.
Public: "Hey, dude, like, I know this is a big deal for you, but, uh, why do we have to bomb them?"
Bush: "Uhhh..." (pulls out security report and reads first word) "Nukes. Yeah. They have nukes. (Well, so do we, but...)"
Public: "Whatever, dude."
The British public is less easily impressed, but Tony is not about to let his old buddy down.
Tony: "Oh, come off it, lads, they really do have nukes. I heard it on the BBC! It must be true! Call in the National Front!"
British public: "Wotever y'say, guv'nor. Put the tea on, luv!"
So we invade Iraq. And then Tony hears that they don't really have nukes.
Tony: "That's bollocks!"
And so he needs to divert attention from his errors. He thinks and thinks, until he finally proposes...
Tony: "TWENTY-FOUR HOUR DRINKING, LADS!"
And the British public bursts into a drunken rendition of "F'r 'E's a Jolly Good Fellooow..."
Leaving Bush in Iraq all by himself.
Sadly, since the tragic death of Joe Strummer and Johnny Rotten's decision to live in his own little safety-pin-and-amphetamine world, the only people left to defend the youth of today are Green Day!!!
O my brothers and sisters, all you malchicks and devotchkas upset with the world, all my dearest malenky horrorshow droogs, WE ARE DOOMED!!!!
...and all that cal.
Cheers,
Jasper.
PS Brighton Rock sincerely is a good book. Read it whenever you can. Ditto _A Clockwork Orange_, hence the nadsat-speak at the end.

Undertones, Jackboots, and the End of the World

2005-08-25T17:02:00.000-07:00

Well, it looks like I'm getting an iPod. See, Apple had a special back-to-school offer about free mini iPods with new computers. So it's FREEEEEEEEEE, mate. Which means that I will be able to put Undertones songs on it without having to order the CD via Borders. Which is good. Plus I'll be able to get "The Queen is Dead" by the Smiths because our idiotic family CD player (circa 1982, when CDs first were introduced) scratched that particular song. Which is a pity because I like it. Incidentally, the Undertones did a tune called "Casbah Rock." Hmm, does this sound familiar? From what I've heard of it, it's a very good tune, reminiscent of Vanilla Tapes Clash stuff and not at all like "Rock the Casbah." But I don't like Feargal Sharkey's voice much.
And concerning jackboots: I need a pair. Not that I'm a skinhead or anything; I like my shoulder-length hair too much. But I do like skinhead fashion. (Please note: I am not talking about fascist or racist skinheads. I mean straight-edge skinheads like Paul Simonon circa 1969. It's hard to be racist if the majority of your friends are black and you listen exclusively to reggae.)
And as for the End of the World: this is a particular Flash file on AlbinoBlacksheep. It is an absolutely hilarious account of how the U.S. is going to start the nuclear armageddon. It makes fun of everyone except California, Alaska, and Hawaii. Some of my favorite charicatures:
French guy: Sh*t, guys, we have ze missiles! We must fire our sh*t!
French lady (with abundant underarm hain): But I am le tired.
French guy: Okay, have a nap. AND THEN FIRE MISSILES!!!
Aussie: WTF, mate?
Canadian: What's going on, eh?
Russian: AAGH, MOTHERLAND!!!!!
Check it out!
Cheers,
Jasper and Pinkie the Delinquent Guitar

Exit, Pursued By A Bear

2005-08-19T14:45:00.000-07:00

This is Shakespeare's most famous stage direction, used in the play "A Winter's Tale." I recently saw this play at our local Shakespeare festival.
But that isn't the most interesting thing I saw recently. Friday, 12 August 2005, found me and my mates at Red Rocks Amphitheater to watch, yes that's right, the Killers. It was brilliant. I would describe the ambience, the lighting, and the pervading odor of cigarrette smoke, but my friends are already rather tired of such accounts. Anyway it was great, wish you had been there.
Some Other Random Notes:
What I've been listening to lately:
The Kinks- a wonderful proto-punk British Invasion group.
Blondie- punked up discopop at its best. Sounds weird when I describe it, but it's great.
Pretenders- good ol' Chrissie Hynde. She's American but the rest of the band are Brits. The sound is Clash guitar with Chrissie's own lyrics. Excellent.
That's all folks.
Jasper

Acting Crazy

2005-07-20T09:56:00.000-07:00

Currently I am enrolled in the Colorado Shakespeare Festival's acting camp. This includes a lot of weird warm-ups, weird fellow campers, and the occasional hissy fit from A.R.J. One of the good things, however, is our Self Portraits.
Tomorrow we will be giving the class a four-minute presentation on something meaningful to us. Hmm, can we guess what I'll be talking about?
Hello, class, my name is Ms. Ritchie. Welcome to Punk Studies 101. Today we will be covering the early days, from 1967-1979. We begin with the Velvet Underground.

Sunday Morning

2005-07-18T08:48:00.000-07:00

It's monday morning, actually, but because "Sunday Morning" is such a good song...
It's by the Velvet Underground, a New York band sponsored by Andy Warhol in the late sixties. It was composed of Lou Reed, a singer, John Cale, a violist, Sterling Morrison, guitar, and Mo Tucker, drums. When Warhol decided that Lou was a terrible frontman and Sterling just stood there looking awkward and tall, he brought in Nico, a German ex-model to sing for the band. Truth be told I don't much care for her voice, so the compilation I have is a mix of songs from the first album, The Velvet Underground and Nico (Peel Slowly and See), and the third, The Velvet Underground. It's a pretty good mix.
Jasper's List of VU Classics:
Heroin
Venus in Furs
Sunday Morning
There She Goes Again
What Goes On
Anyway, they are an awesome band so enjoy!
Cheers, Jasper

AAAAAAAH!!!

2005-07-17T18:11:00.000-07:00

Well, people, you are now reading the blog of the proud purchaser of three Killers tickets. I say purchaser becos I haven't actually earned mine yet, (they cost $33.50), and our lawn isn't growing fast enough for me to pay up. Still, this is certainly a momentuous occasion in my pitiful little world.
Not that I'm one of those screamingly hysterical Killers fans who has a "Mr. Brightside" ringtone and a crush on Brendan Flowers. I'm attending this concert because a) it's a great opportunity to have fun with friends, b) Franz Ferdinand isn't coming to RedRocks in the forseeable future, and c) all the other bands I like died or broke up before I was born or shortly thereafter. Anyway it oughtta be fun.
Cheers,
Jasper

Explanations, Mate

2005-07-16T13:44:00.000-07:00

For those of you who may have been confused about the title of my blog or its address, I offer the following explanation.
"Long Time Jerk" is a Clash B-side from 1982 that begins with the spoken line "Gonna scrape the trouble off my boots!" It is a great song and it struck me as a good blog title because it pretty much describes my life philosophy.
Hold up, some of you may not know about the Clash, huh? They are an early British punk band, formed in London, 1976. Their more famous songs include "Rock the Casbah," "Should I Stay or Should I Go?," "London Calling," and "White Riot." They are absolutely my favorite band, so expect to hear a lot about them.
Ta ta for now, (becos abbreviations are for losers),
Jasper

HEY!!!

2005-07-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

Welcome, people, to the extremely random mind of Jasper Ritchie. Many thanks to my friends and so forth who are currently reading this blog and (hopefully) leaving comments if they can. Also thanks to Snowy (www.worldgonmad.blogspot.com) who set this up for me. Cheers, all.
In this blog you will find music reviews, British slang, and random observations on the world at large. Good luck understanding it!
Peace, love, and Rock'N'Roll,
Jasper