The birth of the cool...?

I've been thinking about cool, where did it come from? The concept is such a ubiquitous one in the world today, it's difficult to imagine society without it. I know it's a somewhat overused and vague term, my definition is the desire to dress and behave in a way that inspires admiration and emulation in others, a certain grace, ease and poise that find their opposite in those ill dressed, awkward, clumsy and extremely self conscious. Of course cool does require an element of being self conscious but in an unselfconscious way. The aim is to give oneself an unconcerned air so that whatever one does appears effortless and natural. Cool itself really couldn't exist without its antithetical polar opposite uncool, which I define as already mentioned. If everyday people fall over, drop things, wear badly fitting, clashing clothes then those few that are cool do not, or at least so it appears.

It is obvious that this idea complex has made heavy inroads into modern society and underpins many cultural enclaves. For instance what would the music business be without the musicians who seem to embody cool and thus provide icons and role models for the rest of us whilst ensuring there will always be a supply of new blood as people constantly try to enter that world and try their luck? So much so that many people don't even bother with the musical side of things, preferring to live the rock and roll lifestyle rather than concentrating on the original heart of it all, creating good, heartfelt music that speaks to people on a basal level. Or how about the film industry with the glamour of global fame, once again subject to the issue of style over substance? Witness the number of films made with enormous budgets that simply reuse old ideas without any attempt to contribute anything artistically new. In fact there appears to be a tacit agreement between cinema goers and the big studios, one keeps on churning out unoriginal films and the other continues to watch them. But people continue to travel to Hollywood looking to get involved in the whole lifestyle, hoping they will be spotted or discovered. Getting away from myself a bit here, the point is that when we look at many pockets of culture we find this concept of cool as a central element.

This aspirational aspect, a striving to become more like the chosen role model of cool, is key and has been greatly aided in its ascendance by the proliferation and cross contamination of mass media during the 20th and 21st centuries. In the 1800s actors, such as Dame Ellen Terry, became held in high esteem by a large section of the public due to media that could inform a greater number of people about their activities. This emergent characteristic continued into the 20th century and as cinema became a global phenomenon silent movie idols such as Clara Bow, Rudolph Valentino and Charlie Chaplin appeared in concert with magazines such as 'Photoplay' and 'Motion Picture' to cater for the public's desire to know more about them. Without wanting to go into too much detail it is an easy matter to trace the increasing pervasiveness of celebrity culture through the 20th and into the 21st centuries. Of course this deviates somewhat from the idea of untouchable and ineffable cool as comparing those early star magazines to today's celebrity gossip sheets we can see a much more intrusive attitude to cool watching. This is partly due to attempts to up the ante from the point of view of maintaining readerships and/or viewing figures but is also a natural by product of such intense curiosity or perhaps we should realistically say obsession with cool watching. After all if the normal members of society aspire to cool then they would naturally want as many pointers to how to behave as possible, thus leading to a demand for insights into all aspects of these celebrities lives. This of course becomes a system web whose each move influences the other, that of the media, the public and the admired stars.

However to come back to more mundane issues at an everyday level, most people have likely felt embarrassed at tripping over in public view, coming out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to their shoe or countless other faux pas. It is partly the wish to be above such things, which of course is impossible and is really just a function of believing in an airbrushed version of reality that doesn't exist, that leads to idolising the purveyors of cool. By now this process has come full circle as the media intrudes so much into the lives of the cool that we see them showing their embarrassing sides on a regular basis. But this has now become aspirational in itself so giving these formerly embarrassing activities an air of legitimacy. My initial thought was not though to analyse the cult of celebrity but more about from where the spark for the cool/uncool polarity comes.

It seems to me that a fairly good explanation comes by looking at the behaviours of the other members of the animal kingdom. As with so many human activities an examination of animal behavioural strategies provides a starting point from which to extrapolate the tangents consequently pursued in human social activities. In this case the necessity of some kind of signaling behaviour facilitating the maintenance of hierarchical group structure. Put simply the male or female in charge needs a way of indicating this to his or her subordinates. Such displays are usually eminently distinguishable often at a distance. So visual or aural displays are the most common. These include brightly coloured, prominently displayed feather or scale patterns in birds and reptiles, coloured or striped flesh patches that can be displayed when needed to assert dominance in mammals, or the more permanent signs of potency such as the silver haired backs of dominant male gorillas. All these and more have been seen numerous times in wildlife documentaries and even visits to the zoo. In human society these assertions of dominance have been subject to a certain amount of disassociation from their original purpose, this abstraction is an inevitable consequence of the amount of variation in human social relations. However we can still make comparisons of the elements involved.

In terms of appearance the forms adopted seem to be opposites, either overstated and flamboyant or aggressively understated. However they both reflect a significant deviation from the normal by either standing out or blending in. In a similar way dominant animals will adopt an apparently unconcerned demeanour, after all they are supposed to be above the petty power play of animals at the lower echelons of the hierarchy, until the need to defend their position arises in which case they must quickly and effectively show their muscle and prove they are in control. This generally unconcerned, relaxed and assured nature is most important as it shows the animal to be at ease, though of course that environment in humans is less one of physical competition, at least in the areas which I am concerned with, and more one of showing dominance by firm body language.

I wish this milkwoman WOULD deliver my milk, in the morning!

I'm going to attempt to write about a film called "The Milkwoman" directed by Ogata Akira that I saw earlier this evening. I had so many thoughts about it I don't think I'll get them all in. It tells the story of the suppressed love between two middle aged people who briefly dated at school. But these are just the bones on which hangs a slow moving meditation on life, illness, frailty, the passing of time and human interaction. Living their lives separately despite living in close proximity there are a number of occasions where their paths regularly cross, such as the morning milk delivery or the milkwoman's journey to work at her second job at the supermarket "S-Mart" on her bike, passing as she does the man, Takanashi, waiting at the bus stop.
Two other major characters are that of the aunt and uncle of the milkwoman Minako. The aunt is caring for her husband, a former English professor, who is slipping into dementia. She also partly tells the story as she is writing about what she sees in Minako's life. A particularly affecting sequence represents the uncle in a confused state rushing around the house as the day passes. There is a local legend of a hungry boy called the curry boy who roams the streets with a spoon sniffing out tasty curries to eat. This character has wormed its way into the uncle's mind and he sees the child and seems almost to take on the role of the child as his dementia worsens and he regresses and words slip away from him.
This story strand runs parallel to Takanashi's whose wife is terminally ill and who takes care of her at home and works for the council. His wife says at the beginning of the film that she feels he is just trying to get through each day as easily as possible and she eventually realises the existence of a connection between Takanashi and Minako and tries to persuade them to get together when she is gone. Takanashi begins to get involved in a social services case relating to two young boys neglected by their mother. This seems to be an outlet of sorts for all the emotions he has been bottling up for so long.
The subject of time passing and what makes up those years is a strong element with the aunt saying at one point of her husband that she doesn't want to write about her life with him but to know what goes on inside his head. There is a definite feeling of place too, the city of Saito looks a beautiful place nestled in mountains and surrounded by forest. It is built over several hills and the stepped paths between the houses are a regular haunt of Minako as she traverses them on her milk delivery route. It is wonderful to see her get up before it is light and cycle her way down to the milkman's store. Of course I would say that as those dawn and dusk times are my favourites for still and moving images.
The supermarket "S-Mart" is a great location too, it's fantastic to see the details of their uniforms, natty blue coats, and the aisles packed with food. There is a little minor drama there too with two other checkout women, one a gossip who always seems to be eating the produce and looks like a Japanese Joan Rivers, and a younger girl who we hear has a young child. She has been having a fling with the manager which provides some comedy but also links in to the subject matter of the rest of the film. She talks to Minako about living alone and its obvious she can't cope with that and is looking for some kind of companionship. Minako's advice? Tire yourself out during the day and you'll be fine.
All together the film feels very solid, the people and their environs hold a weight which will hopefully sit in my memory (sadly I think it will be difficult to get hold of a DVD but I'd love to watch it again). So I think with the inaugural film in a season supposed to give a picture of contemporary Japanese people they have done a good job. Not only seeing the city itself but people's houses too with their things lying around in a haphazard way, papers, books, kitchen utensils. Generally the camera is pretty static but on a few occasions it takes to the ground and moves in a handheld manner, a couple of sequences with Minako exerting herself to a soundtrack of her laboured breathing spring to mind. Also the camera becomes wonderfully free floating and de-centred at a point of realisation and certain resolution, preceding a torrential rainstorm.

Returning...

I've just come back from Sweden. Ten days, but it feels like longer. Though as always with the familiar one quickly settles back into such places. But returning I didn't feel any upwelling of sentiment or emotion for being back in Bristol. That's not to say that I don't like the place. Or that I haven't had many good times here. I hope to in the future too. But a car driving past me on my way back to the house contained someone shouting loudly, let's use proclaiming, "I'm back, I'm back!". Now I don't know if this was really someone returning after a long journey away, but the event seemed to represent to me the difference in a lot of people's attitude to home, their strong attachment to it and reluctance to leave, and my lack of those feelings. I can find good things about the places I've lived, but none with enough that makes me feel as if I want to stay, to "put down roots". I don't know what that says about me or my environs. Maybe I'm just not ready yet to settle down, maybe I like new experiences too much, maybe I get bored easily. What it does tell me is I need to get out more. Out of the city, out of the country. See new things. Motion towards that is also motion away. Enough for now.

Hedging your bets with bulletproof vests

I've just watched a film called Flandres by Bruno Dumont and aside from making me want to talk French with somebody it made me think of neo-realism and cinéma vérité. It feels very real in terms of lighting, sound and overall atmosphere. There is no music, and I mean no music even on the radio, and we can feel the weather by the light onscreen, the dull overcast grey day or the warmth of soft orange sunlight on a brick porch wall. It begins slowly showing the seemingly almost deserted farm where Demester works. The environment is illustrated with wide shots of him walking across the fields, a feeling of fertile yet empty space. This is embellished by close up details of activities, sharpening a stick to place a snare, washing a bowl in the sink; all this in intricately depicted surroundings, the piles of washing up and junk on the kitchen surfaces, the tools lying outside the farm on the cobbles. It seems like this isn't even set dressing, these are simply real locations as they are. A brief scene in a country pub with a vieillard tentatively playing a note or two on an accordion whilst fags are smoked and doused before going out into the frigid car park feels achingly true. It's also a key moment as it sets up the love triangle between Demester, Barbe and Blondel, a guy she meets in the pub then fucks in his car scant minutes later. In contrast the swift couplings between Demester and Barbe in the corners of fields of grey sticky mud and straw seem tender and loving, albeit without either being able to really express these feelings to each other or even themselves.
The film moves on as the two guys plus a third "friend" Mordacq join the army along with it seems most of the young male population of the area. After the portrayal of the place in which they live it seems almost understandable that they should be eager to escape to another environment. Though eager is perhaps too strong a word, apathy is what pervades the actions and interactions of the people here. Having grown up in the countryside, not as bleak as this however, I can well understand the behaviours of the characters. Barbe's sexual antics for instance are something different than the normal activities of others around, even if not conducted with much vigour. However once one begins a certain practice it is quite easy to fall into the habit of it and so it feels with Barbe, the potential escape has become a trap. Meanwhile the guys are in an unspecified desert conflict zone, Tunisia if you wait til the end credits, that's bleak and beautiful in a similar way to the landscape of Flanders back home, and are put through the wringer in a series of external and self inflicted horrific occurrences that begin almost arbitrarily but possess a definite causality that eventually leads us back to Flanders at the end of the film. As we follow the guys abroad and Barbe back home the cuts between the locations start off long and become quicker approaching the end.
To me the film seemed really to be about Flanders despite the desert combat scenes, this place was not so well realised and seemed to be a stage on which to make comment about arbitrary violence experienced by soldiers. Of course with French soldiers against Arabs there are echoes of Algiers and French colonialism as well as the more recent "war on rational thought" sorry "terror". But the film is shot in Bailleul which is where Dumont was born close the the French/Belgian border and it seems to me he is invoking memories of his childhood in bringing the place to life such is the feel of it as a viewer. However having mentioned neo-realism its worth remembering that its realism not reality. It feels very real but even de Sica made concessions to creating a film rather than a documentary. With this film though I think the pleasure lies not a well structured emotive screenplay but in the accurate evocation of a place that conceals its own beauty beneath a bleak and harsh exterior. The flicker of dying embers against a dusk sky, the flurry of birds in the hedgerow, the icy cold of winter giving way to the treacle sunlight of spring.

Forking Paths

Lately I find myself unexpectedly reading a brace of books about homosexuality and sexual experimentation. Both also have strands of unreality and dream imagery running through them. They are "Dorian AN IMITATION" by Will Self and "Lost Girls" a graphic novel by Alan Moore and Melinda Gebbie. Dorian is a re-imagination of the Oscar Wilde story about a man who keeps his youth whilst a picture of him ages in his stead. It is set across the 80s and 90s as the gay sub culture blossoms and goes overground, across this backdrop the titular Dorian debauches his way whilst various friends and acquaintances discuss his increasingly nefarious activities. Meanwhile "Lost Girls" is a story of three famous fictional girls, Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, Wendy from Peter Pan and Alice from Alice in Wonderland, imagined as real women all affected by some traumatic sexual experience in their childhood meeting by chance in a grand European hotel and discovering their similarities and strange connection. It is beautifully illustrated in what looks like coloured pencil by Melinda Gebbie, the images are soft and delicate with a wonderful flowing texture allowing them to seem at times realistic but always allowing for them to flow seamlessly into representations of unreality through dreams, or drug induced states.

In fact dream and drugs play a large part in both these works, it's probably why I like them both so much given my fascination with blurring the boundaries between reality and unreality. Both stories have a certain ambiguity to them, (have events that are described happened, half happened?) in fact it's really about what the flow of events represent as metaphor. In the case of Dorian they create a selective and distorted catalogue of place and time, one gets a snapshot of certain 'scenes' associated with geographical and temporal locations. An example is the burgeoning UK gay scene in the early 80s with its initially innocent yet idolatrous perception of beauty hearkening back to those Classical conceptions of male beauty embodied by Baz Hallward's video installation featuring a nude Dorian, Cathode Narcissus. This period provides the starting point for a journey that describes the transition from an unsullied youth, admittedly self-obsessed as alluded to by the title of Hallward's installation (which also prefigures Dorian's cruelty to the infatuated Hallward and his many future sexual partners), into a character increasingly set free from the confines of conventional morality. Another example is the more physically vigorous, dangerous and experimental NY club scene, characterised in the novel by roughhousing and sadistic and masochistic practices in a memorable descent into the bowels of a lubricated, writhing warehouse club recalling Dante or Bosch and culminating in an ambiguous murder.

In Lost Girls the central location is the Himmelgarten hotel in Austria, as its name suggests it provides a sanctuary from the censure and restrictions of the wider world outside and a place in which Alice acts as a kind of tutor and mentor, first to Dorothy then with her help to Wendy, in sexual awakening which lies not only in the physical world but also that of the imagination. The story moves ahead punctuated by numerous fantastic sequences representing the release of those dreams and desires of the characters that have been suppressed by propriety or repressed by time and the conscious mind. Often these sequences are paralleled visually with events in the real world to illustrate the daydreams of the protagonists. A prime example are the exchanges between Wendy Potter and her dull engineer husband. Their 'conversations' take the form of Mr Potter expounding his views on the denizens of the hotel or bridge construction whilst Wendy tidies up or sits engaged in needlepoint. Visually though we see the imagined sex life of the couple that appears to have in reality gone unconsummated. At one point a rolled up sheaf of papers memorably becomes an erect member fully exploited to elicit pleasure from Wendy and for her husband too. Dorothy is introduced to opium by Alice and this precipitates a hallucinatory lesbian encounter between the two. There is also a trip to the theatre that results in a sexual encounter between the three women that may be part dream paralleling the scandalous performance on stage, a dance culminating in a virgin sacrifice on stage and a riot in the stalls.

Both books deal with a liberation from the rules of society, in the first the increasing hedonism of a sub cultural milieu provides a smokescreen for Dorian's even more extreme behaviour whilst the second feels more like a safe haven for the women to set themselves free from the societal straitjacket in which they had been placed. Dorian could to some degree be considered to be a metaphor for the spread of HIV and AIDs but I think this is too unsubtle to be a very important part of the character, especially since the association is mentioned several times by his friends. Having said this the disease does feature prominently in the novel, the topic couldn't really be avoided given the period and subject matter, and adds to the sense of slow and morbid decay. In a way the two books could be seen as opposites of one another, the sloughing off of conventions being a path to darkness and obsession in the first case and to a feeling of life, light and invigoration in the other. It must just be a coincidence that a cast of mainly men populate the dark side and women the light though surely? Also that I have just watched "Grizzly Man" this evening, a troubled man leaving behind society and getting eaten in the process?

The Art of Life

I have just watched "The Science of Sleep" by Michel Gondry. I really enjoyed it, it was funny and magical and ultimately quite sad. I think I empathised with the whole situation partly as a bit of a daydreamer/fantasist and also because it's really about the problems everyone has with relationships. Whether it's commitment or jealousy, high standards or over attachment there are always repeating behaviour patterns, the word pathology is mentioned in the film, that cause hang ups. Some people are very aware of these, others have little knowledge of their unconscious actions. Obvious or not those it's incredibly difficult to change these behavioural habits and time and again we keep falling into cycles. The same happens with family groups in just as intense a way. Yet there is hope, because some people do seem to manage a fairly healthy level of social interaction. But then again even such facades can be deceptive, the closest seeming of couples can appear from the outside to suddenly separate and divorce. Since one can only really know oneself things can get a little lonely, especially if it's hard to let others in to your trust and confidence.

Keep on keeping on

A scathing, cynical and condescending attitude prevents me from serious analysis of people's behaviour, activities and tastes. For example, laughing at the tackiness of football memorabilia (esp. SD dolls) ignores the fact that such tokens or talismans represent a substitution (no pun intended) of religious iconography where football in fact takes the place of organised religion in the lives of many modern people.
Following football requires certain ritualised practises: attending matches in the flesh or at least watching on TV, discussion with other believers, listening to pundits (sermons), wearing garments to show belonging such as team shirts, scarves, also enacting rituals oneself in groups by playing football recreationally. Each of these activities possesses its own set of rules and repeated behaviour patterns, modes of speech, physical gestures etc. This not only cements belonging feelings in practitioners but reinforces those feelings in others too.
Football is just one example, many pastimes have such associated behaviour patterns. The fundamental need to act out repeated behaviour patterns is borne out by the number of people with some kind of compulsive behaviour problem, repeated hand washing, door checking etc. Since the most basic lifeform must perform repeated actions to survive, such as seeking out light or proteins, we can see repeated activity is ancient indeed.
The point is when the urge comes to ridicule someone for their behaviours it would be wise to think about the origin and reason for these , a deeper understanding of individual and likely more general human behaviour will occur.

Where there's a will there's a way

The tradition of free speech and individuality is being eroded in this country by the legislation passed and political and social culture arising out of the activities of "New" Labour, in thrall as they are to wealth and wealth acquisition; keeping their activities hidden beneath a veil of rhetoric and simplistic 'big ideas'. I thought about this after listening to a programme about Karl Popper in which his idea of the open society was discussed. When the principles of this (primarily an openness to scrutiny and criticism of policy and continual adjustment of policy based on these criticisms) are compared with "New" Labour we see a consolidation of individual power and a seeming inability or at least unwillingness to learn from mistakes or rectify those already made. Instead the same paths are followed despite their problems and figures are massaged to make them appear effective. Examples of this are the use of PFIs to keep spiralling costs of building new hospitals, schools and other public buildings "off balance sheet", the limitations with regards cost and access imposed on the only recently introduced Freedom of Information Act and the awarding of more rail franchises to companies such as First Group that have already proven themselves to have a poor track record with their initially awarded contracts.

Po Hymn?

I was replying to a comment from the lovely Rosie on myspace about our recent freak meeting at Bangface in London and I noticed a little poem I had written on her page. I reproduce it here for everyone to appreciate:

A rolling stone gathers no moss,
Jim Crow don't ride no hoss,
But in the depths of the old woodland,
The Froggies croak is rather hoarse.

That is ALL.

Red Top Trash

News of the World? What a fucking misnomer. The title should be rescinded forthwith.

Talk Talk - Lift Your Spirits Part One

Today I found myself talking to the lift at work. Not in expectation of any scintillating conversation you understand, I had pressed the wrong button and was apologising for my error. It was a kind of appeasement to ensure its continued operation, a bit like the soothing noises made to an old car when trying to start on a cold morning. This set me to thinking how the practice of talking to inanimate objects (we'll consider the lift inanimate despite its gravity defying propensities), in fact treating them with the respect generally given to people, is commonplace throughout the world and indeed the fourth dimension.

From pre-historic animism to naming ships we seem to have a penchant for trying to make things like us. Very evident in children who are always integrating objects into their fantasy world as characters; be they man made toys or stones, the tendency seems to fade into adulthood, at least surficially. However anthropomorphism is there behind many everyday ideas and behaviours. From country to country we may dispute whether the Sun is male or female and likewise the Moon, but no-one seems to question the existence of a certain personality to these heavenly bodies. It is understandable that such importance has been given to these celestial close companions, after all even before our understanding of the Moon's influence on the tides and seasons it was these two bodies that gave light and warmth, that self evidently brought about two of the major and frequent changes on the planet. Similarly attributing spirits or personalities to trees, rivers and mountains also makes sense in terms of their importance in providing water, shelter, food as well as their prominence in the landscape, in fact, making the variety that accompanies so many lives. Simple transposal of this from country to town explains the humanising of lifts, vending machines and other paraphernalia of modern living.

At the other end of the scale from reverence is the transferral of anger. When stubbing a toe on a door or stepping outside just as it begins to rain it feels like there should be someone to blame. Yet they are really just coincidental occurrences and ranting at nothing seems pointless. To make the anger seem more worthwhile and directed the object comes under fire. Fists are shaken, expletives uttered, sometimes physical violence is attempted. However in such cases it is usually the foot that comes off worse than the door!

Both these instances come from a need to relate to things non-human and from the fact that it is easier to understand and relate to things in human terms, even if these are enforced by our minds in spite of reason. We remake the world in our own image. It's an organismic trait common to all animals, an elephant for instance cannot relate to us in a human way, it projects an elephant world view onto the humans, wardens, zookeepers, it comes into contact with. A better example is perhaps the dog, living in a human family a kind of dual transference occurs. We integrate the dog into our household and our lives as an extra member of the family giving it human desires and characteristics. From the other perspective the dog treats us as fellow members of its pack with a distinct 'pecking order' etc. The two can function together but neither really 'sees' the other in any way but the one in which its species allows it.

Sex is Relative

There are two lots of sexual criteria to be judged, physical and mental - the most ancient is the physical - there was never a mental beyond successfulness in terms of finding food. Human society has created complex demands when finding the correct match or "life partner". More abstract things such as a sense of humour or a specific way of looking at the world (humour is of course one facet of this metacapability) become valuable. Yet still the tug to the physical, the sexual, is strong. Understandable when sex and touch plays such an important part in our relationships, but these properties, those of the head and of the body, are not necessarily linked and can be mutually exclusive. Here lies our dilemma: a person can be sublimely attractive mentally and be a wonderful conversational companion but if the spark of physical attraction is not there this counts for nought. Similarly a stunningly physically attrative person can be an utter dolt incapable of all but the most base and shallow communication. These inconsistencies I feel sure are the cause of much suffering and heartache on all sides in the quest for close companionship.

Human Rights and Human Wrongs

Does anyone else feel disgusted at the behaviour of our government? Does anyone else feel frustrated that there is no way to show our utter contempt for such sordid and morally corrupt actions? With the present cash for peerages scandal sounding a bit close to cash for questions and suitably short and snappy for the media, see Arms for Iraq, one wonders if anything will ACTUALLY come of it. Oh? So Tony Blair MAY be questioned by police? Well I'd rather he were extradited to Iraq to stand trial for war crimes along with Bush. Seems only fair for people to whom Geneva Accords are just words to be surmounted. As for Sharon, I see he has cleverly done a Pinochet. Coma eh?

Just to prove my point another recent example of such Houdini like escapology. Innocent man shot dead on crowded underground platform, lenghty enquiry, police officers stand trial, reputation of execution of law and order policies and justice system in Britain on trial, result: no criminal charges brought! I rest MY case. As Tom Stoppard said in an interview earlier this evening, we live in a country of democracy of obedience.

Arab Retro Fun

I have discovered by playing an emulated version of the old arcade game "Chase H.Q." whilst listening to North African pop I have created a new game which I call "Maghrebain Cops"! It's so much fun imagining your Arabic cops chasing down some criminals in their old car whilst eating sweet snack food =)

A History of Violence

Casting ones eye over European politics of the twentieth century with a layman's view of history, one sees a change from larger scale conflict to more domestic squabbles. When one thinks of the polarisation of the European powers on two separate occasions in the first half of the twentieth century it seems the conclusion must be that we have 'worn ourselves out' and are now concentrating solely on the imperialist style aims that have always gone hand in hand with state rivalry. The amount of energy expended to keep the public in the dark to what is really going on has increased due to the proliferation of global means of dissemination of information such as the internet (this informing of the general public en masse seems to have begun with the advent of the printing press and the accompanying concept of pamphleteering). A large amount of money and time also goes into keeping subject states in line with the wishes Western powers have for them. But given the relatively short time span that the European power dynamic has taken to change it is conceivable that a new stable power bloc could emerge in the next few decades, with the assistance of a growing lobby of global moral conscience. Attempts to form such alliances rival to that of the Western powers have so far been scuppered by sponsored coups or assassinations, but if the eyes of the world watch closely with a new awareness of the underhand dealings of the secret service etc it is possible. I await with interest the developments in both the Middle East and in South and Central America.

Venn the moon shines over the cow shed

Hey hey hey, now I have a job! It's only temping in an office in Bristol but good to finally get back to work and earning money. Also yesterday went to Venn Festival in Bristol. A number of acts throughout the day at venues spread up and down Stokes Croft. I was thinking this is a great way to spend fifteen quid when my friend Andy said the same thing to me! The moving between venues made it feel like a festival, reminded me of ATP, and we saw some cracking music. Chris Corsano was a droning drumfest, Ariel Pink were poppy like a trip to the past via a tape recorder time machine and The Chap were supercallifragilistic, I found myself wanting to swap heads with the lead singer, if only for a day. Check here it's the Lo Recordings site and look them up. I just did and am even more impressed, the lead singer's name is Johannes von Weizsäcker!!!

Lids Are Heavy

Sometimes I get so tired of everything. But maybe it was the thunderstorm earlier that makes my bones ache. I wish I had been standing in the middle of it. I am going to indulge my love of deserts by watching a film about mirages, "Fata Morgana".

Oh well, Orwell

I might as well write a post since I have been on here for ages. Was about to get off and write something, you know that weird paper stuff, but I shall endeavour to get my brain in gear to bash something down on zee keys.

First things first, the Orwell biography I am reading is a goodly read. It's a relatively recent one by D.J. Taylor who was born and lives in Norwich and looks like a fun packed fella by his press shot in the back. It is well organised and referenced with a multi-part index containing not only general but biographical summary, attitudes and works sections as well as citations for references used and notes for each chapter. The structure is chronological with the book being split into five broad "Parts" subdivided into chapters and each dealing with stages in the development of his career. Interspersed in these are short character related sections with titles like "Orwell's face" and "Orwell and the rats". It also contains two sections of plates with photographs of Orwell growing up and some of the main players in his life, publishers and romantic interests.

The book itself has been a fascinating read so far a fairly minute study of his life with an attempt to debunk all the posthumous mythologising and coming to the conclusion that the reasons given by him for his actions right from school onwards appear to have been carefully structured to give a trajectory to his life that was less than the more random series of occurrences it was. I also find the historical aspect interesting, covering as it does the transitional period away from the age of empire, a still existing old style class system and the move into the modern era. I am getting on well with it and should finish soon, I have volume 1 of his collected essays, journals and letters to read too. He is about to go to Spain to fight against Franco and the Fascists, will be good to compare Taylor's account with that given in "Homage to Catalonia". Actually whilst describing the circumstances around the writing of each book Taylor also gives his own little description and potted review within the chapters. That's all for now.

P.S. Surely Mozilla must win something for the best icon for a browser? What's better a blue "e" or a cute fox curled around the world? come on.

Keep an eye on the media

Just a brief post as I thought I should advise any people who read this to remember that just as the media has been used for propaganda on a scale from the gross to the extremely subtle in the past, this is STILL going on today. One must bear this in mind when reading newspapers or watching television news. The important thing is to have an open mind and a questioning nature, never take anything at face value. It sounds difficult and there is no guarantee if you do so you will get the whole truth but at least you will have a more balanced viewpoint. I am putting a link to the medialens website, they publish sporadic emails which attempt to put certain news stories into perspective and make extensive use of references combined with a non-polemical editorial stance. In other words they try and say where everything comes from as much as possible and they don't go on angry rants. Of course it is up to you if you take my advice but you should at least check out the site with an open mind. There are many more sites on which there is some alternative to the mainstream media, read but don't forget to read without taking every word as the truth.

MEDIALENS WEBSITE

Pearls of Wisdom

Lately I have been reading a book given to me as an, I think, apposite Christmas present. It is The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton and attempts to elucidate everyday relevance in the works of several famous philosophers.

[As an aside, in finding the link for this book I read the snatch of review for it by Martin Cohen from 'The Philosopher', I assume a philosophical magazine. I would research further but that would consume I feel unnecessary time when the likelihood is self evident. He comes down it seems not a fan of de Botton but it seems to me he has to accept the success of the format at popularising philosophy, for five minutes in the public eye anyway, and so can't be as damning as he would like to. Whilst I agree with the banal nature of the images used within the book and accept it is basically a rushed effort to coincide with a tv series, I am reading it without having seen the series, in fact all of de Botton that exists in my memory is as a vague balding image in a suit jacket and jeans I believe. I can't argue on the interpretation of the philosophers as I have not studied any of them intensively but although Cohen comments that the book is "platitudinous" it seems to me an important point to make that popular derision is not automatically a sign that the object of derision is inherently flawed. But I digress, in some way I suppose I am trying to exonerate my discussion that follows from accusations of my lack of authority to write what I have.]

I read of Socrates, Epicurus and Seneca with interest, aided by the easy style of the book, and gleaned some good and seemingly sensible advice about the use and value of logic, the elements most important in personal happiness and the ability to cope with lifes frustrations through a pragmatic and analytical viewpoint from these three. Some of the ideas seemed more a timely reaffirmation of general principles that I have tried to follow but, as we all know, sticking to a regime be it exercise, dietary or behavioural is a difficult task. An acceptance of ones limitations whilst not precluding attempts to better ones behaviour and attitudes is a principle to which I have tried to adhere and which appears to me to be vilified in the reported writings of the previously mentioned ancient philosophers.
On reading the fourth section I discovered the existence of Michel de Montaigne, a French philosopher of the 16th century. His views seem to be an antidote to what I assume has become the prevailing intellectual standpoint of the time and appears to still be the case to a great degree today. Well read of the classics he nevertheless advocated a non reverential attitude to those ancient Greek and Roman philosophers, not to be afraid to criticise certain books or ideas as less than brilliant and incisive. He bemoaned the excess of commentaries on these ancient works and the lack of original writing based on observation of personal experience.

"Whoever recalls to mind his last bout of anger...…sees the ugliness of this passion better than in Aristotle."

His own work, the "Essays" is, according to de Botton, filled with entreaties to tolerance, mutual understanding and acceptance. It also contains copious detail of the minutiae of his daily life, his likes and dislikes and personal anecdotes. He covers not only the mental but the physical, in most intimate detail, his shits, farts and burps. As well as showing a human individual behind the words it is an attempt to subvert taboos on what are suitable topics for conversation and thus give a more accurate portrayal of the whole person. Extremely rare in a serious book at that time such frankness is unusual even today, people generally preferring to maintain a distance between their print personality and their physical selves (this could be seen as a mirror of the body mind duality). In many ways Montaigne was ahead of his time, his attitude to the wholesale slaughter of the supposedly subhuman South American Indian tribes, such as the Tupi, by the conquistadores a prime example:

"Every man calls barbarous anything he is not accustomed to; we have no other criterion of truth or right-reason that the example and form of the opinions and customs of our own country. There we always find the perfect religion, the perfect polity, the most developed and perfect way of doing anything!"

I found much to agree with and admire in Montaigne, the previous quote I feel is all too relevant now as it was at the time of his writing. It is tempting to say that we have not learnt anything from that day to this in almost five hundred years, many of those consumed by warfare and general fighting within and between nation states, and writing from this time of intolerance and distrust of those we consider different in other countries and even our own. His more personal and intimate comments too struck a chord with me and stirred a certain feeling of behavioural kinship with regards his liking quiet when using the toilet and his regularity:

"My bowels and I never fail to keep our rendezvous, which is (unless some urgent business or illness disturbs us) when I jump out of bed."

Such mixture of the mundane and the more philosophical put in mind the blogosphere and its similar mixture of tone. In a way Montaigne's "Essays", which consisted of three volumes, were its confessional precursor, equal measures high minded and basely preoccupied. I hasten to add I do not mean to elevate or denigrate either by my use of those terms.
All this is really an explanation of the revival of inspiration that reading of him and his ideas has given me. A rejection of scholarly culture as:

"We are richer than we think, each one of us"

and an encouragement to mine the depths of my own experience to recover some hopefully useful conclusions. I should also mention that I am writing this on good old lined paper and with a red biro, the constant glare of the computer screen and lure of the interweb something of a set of headlights to the startled rabbit that is creative thought, or at least my creative thought. It seems that all the plans of what to research or write down when online fall out of the brain as soon as the fingers hit the keyboard and the little box says "You are now connected at 2Mb/sec."

P.S. In a brief afterthought I was in the library today, ended up borrowing a George Orwell biography so expect some Orwellian posts, I had a flip through the guardian. There was a piece about bloggers and the increasing encroachment of companies getting their views across, in some cases, a Wal-Mart example was used, feeding copy to bloggers to print. I must admit I may be a little naive but I feel the point of these things is not to promote product, theres enough bloody advertising in life anyway, but for people to share their ideas. There were also a couple of articles about myspace, it seems like the media beast has stirred since the Arctic Monkeys became their new five minute darling. Tell the truth I am already getting frustrated and annoyed by the whole myspace thing, it tires me looking at all those people. It is a bit like celebrity gossip, one is drawn in to it but ends up feeling cheapened by it all. Everyone, when the weather gets better turn off your computer set, and do something less boring instead.

FINAL THOUGHT: For those of you getting het up about wasting water (I'm not advocating being thoughtless here) see: A hosepipe would have to run 70,000 days to waste as much water as Thames Water leaks every day.(Private Eye No.1154)

XXXXXX