Just a normal night in...

Pussy Face

- this is Ziggy

Quote of the Day

I'm a huge fan of the work of Fernando Pessoa. 'The Book of Disquiet' is one of those books I can just dip into whenever I feel the urge and the words nearly always resonate with whatever's going on in my own head. Here's one such excerpt I pulled up earlier:
"I have never loved anybody. What I have loved the most are my feelings - states of conscious viscosity, impressions of a quick ear, smells which are a means, for the humility of the external world, to speak to me, to talk to me about the past (so easily recalled by smells), that is to provide me with more reality, more emotions than a mere loaf of bread cooking at the back of an old bakery, as on that distant afternoon when I was coming back from the burial of an uncle who loved me deeply, and when I felt the sweetness of a minor appeasement, from what I have no idea.
That is my morality, or my metaphysics, in other words, what I am: the ultimate Passer-by, of everything and even of my soul: I belong to nothing, desire nothing, am nothing - an abstract centre of impersonal feelings, a sensitive mirror fallen by chance and pointed towards the diversity of the world. After all that, I have no idea if I am happy or unhappy: it is of little or no importance to me.

The Ugliness of Perfection

Here's a trend that really irks me - plastic surgery for cosmetic purposes. Whether it's cosmetic 'enhancements' such as eyelid scraping, brow lifts, lip fillers, facelifts, nose jobs, collagen injections, laser skin treatments, breast augmentation or botox, it just perpetuates the very dodgy idea of a perfect beauty and the idea that normal signs of ageing are flaws - ie unattractive - so must therefore be erased.

But just what is it that's really going on here? Fear of death? Fear of being unloved, unattractive and unwanted simply because of being (and looking) older? Fear that we are nothing unless we conform to some conformist idea of exterior beauty - throughout our existence - with our faces frozen in the look of our youth or altered to resemble the perceived perfection of our superstar idols' appearances? Surely, this is a shallow view. You'd think that as we grow older, we would grow stronger and wiser in character. So just what is wrong with reflecting this on the outside? Why is it that we only perceive beauty in youthful faces and bodies?

To my thinking, unless we are hideously disfigured - by birth or accident - or so heavy in the breasts that it is a burden on our skeletons, this search for (apparent) perfection is a very disturbing trend indeed. Even worse, is that women's magazines now discuss cosmetic enhancement in much the same way as skin care products and makeup - that is, as a part of women's general upkeep. Unfortunately, more and more people are turning to these procedures. They're routinely shown on tv makeover shows as ways to gain confidence. However, I don't want to live in a world where most people pay a fortune to erase signs of age and the rest of us are judged as hideous, simply because we don't conform to such stereotypes of beauty. In that world, everyone is looking more and more alike anyway. And this is hardly a triumph for women - to be spending their hard-earned cash on erasing the signs of their lives. Although only the wealthy can really afford this sort of thing, of course it's spreading to the rest of the population who, unhappy with the apparent insignificance of their own existences, aim to be just like their wealthy celebrity idols. The proliferation of celebrity tv shows and magazines only perpetuates this. If only I had Angelina Jolie's lips, I would feel so much more confident and desirable. Blah! Many of the results of cosmetic surgery procedures leave much to be desired anyway.

We are all going to die. We are born, we grow, we bloom and form relationships with others and hopefully grow wiser and more beautiful as we learn who we are and try to better ourselves as human beings. I am all for the idea of looking and feeling the best that we can for our ages, but maybe we should be focusing on our health instead - what we're eating, what we're thinking and what we're doing with our lives. If we just can't get happy with who we are, we should see a shrink or, at least, find something to do.

R.I.P. Micky Barry (4 February 1961 - 16 June 2009)

Another month rolls by and I had, of course, intended to write about a couple of luminary figures who passed away fairly recently. Nonetheless, my distractions continued and last week there was a bombshell. I was informed that my friend Micky - who I have known since 1980 - passed away in Brisbane, after a brief - but difficult - battle with cancer.
I am not going to talk details of his illness here. I only wish to say that Micky was one of the very best (isn't it always the best ones?) - probably the brightest person I have ever met - brilliantly smart, well-read, kind, caring and always low-maintenance. He made do with very little and - most impressively - had no concern at all for material things. I spent time with him during a difficult part of my own life - staying with him in northern New South Wales, where he lived simply in the bush for a while. He sincerely cared about Planet Earth and was an amazing gardener who could make anything grow. He put into practice what most people just mouth off about and was the most environmentally-responsible person I have ever met, impressing me greatly with his knowledge of bush craft. His mind was always inquiring - almost child-like. A true Peter Pan - always enthused about what was going on!
Around the time I met him, someone said that he was so smart you could ask him to solve a mathematical puzzle and he would solve it in seconds, without writing anything down. I tried it once - asking him something like: "What's 8,439 divided by 497" and he gave me a correct answer within a couple of seconds.
When I was staying in the bush with him, we had a conversation about death and about people's obsession with leaving legacies - being remembered for things. He told me he aspired to leaving nothing and felt that was the most responsible thing to do - to leave no trace.
This was the sort of man Micky Barry was.
He will be buried tomorrow on his brother's property, around where he used to live - in the bush - as he would've wanted. He will be sadly missed by many people.

Been A Bit Distracted

Autumn in Sydney. There's been too much to distract myself with - and too much rain. Cut off from the world in my apartment building, because someone smashed up our intercom system - two weeks ago. The quotes to replace it are too expensive, apparently. A literary luminary has died - J G Ballard. I'll miss those novels, but there are older ones still to catch up with. An Australian activist died also two or so months ago - Fred cole, the originator of 'BUGA Up' (Billboards Using Graffiti Artists Against Unhealth Promotions), who achieved his goal of banishing tobacco advertising in his lifetime (I'll post more about this later).
In the meantime, there's been so much wonderful music. Some current favourites include:
The Field - 'Yesterday and Today'
Martyn - 'Great Lengths'
Hell - 'Teufelswerk'
Pom Pom - 'Pom Pom'...
...and many more, of course.
Back soon.

Day In The Life

A day in the life of a wanker
I walked through the city quickly today - with only my missions on my mind. Everything's shabby. A sense of strain. Half of the centre is pretty much gutted - in construction. My favourite bus route - out to one of Sydney's more pleasant inner suburbs. Left-leaning bourgeois leafiness - common sense attitude. I see a specialist. And I see lots of people who bought amazing local houses four decades or so ago. But everyone is really nice.
It's a very sunny day.
Next stop, Redeye Records to treat myself. Yay! Joris Voorn 'Balance' (double cd of seamless, textured blends of contemporary electronic stuff) and 'Fever Ray's debut.
I went running - on my new route - on the road at the top of the hill and away from the rustling of rats. They are getting bigger and bolder. Last week, I noticed some sudden movement in the grass next to the path and saw a rat, presumably about to dart out of the way. But suddenly, it had grabbed onto my foot and was clinging on! Yes, seriously.
I screamed and flung my leg out as I kept running and it flew off. It looked so funny as it flew briefly through the air that I couldn't help laughing, despite the horror of it all.

Telco/Technology Meltdown

After changing my ISP recently, I unfortunately found myself without properly-functioning internet for several days. Basically, my life shut down. I couldn't work, couldn't contact people, couldn't do anything that I do, because pretty much everything involves my connecting to the net. Instead, I spent my time on the phone (which itself wasn't working for two days), waiting eternities for someone to answer; listening endlessly to moronic, computerised instructions; getting conflicting information and generally having my patience tested to the hilt. At one point, I got into such a state that I actually contemplated suicide (well, almost!). Ridiculous? Maybe. In basically just a decade, so much of our lives depend on this technology - and on technology in general. I've even heard that (apparently anyway) our domestic appliances will eventually all be controlled and synchronised via the internet. Gawd help us all!

Summer Blank

Yes, I've been neglecting this blog lately. First, it was the distraction of the festive season and then the oppressive humidity of January, turning that month into nothing more than a blank. With Sydney in party mode en masse, somehow everything is geared to this time of year. Every music group and performance artist you had been dying to see for years all turn up at once - to perform, along with dozens of others, at numerous daytime events where, if you should be so inclined to attend, you swelter in the sun as you try to catch the acts you love and hope they don't overlap on different stages.
Temperatures can soar to over 40 degrees and can be accompanied by a hair dryer-like wind that burns as it blows. Forget gentle, cooling breezes. This feels more like some kind of radiation, which burns your skin in minutes and can even be felt through open windows when indoors. It's insane to walk around outside, of course, unless covered in long sleeves, hat, parasol or, at the very least, slathered in 30+. But everywhere, hordes of people are out and about, apparently loving it. When shopping for groceries in the evenings, I see many people - especially young tourists - seemingly oblivious to the extreme sunburn they've been afflicted with after a day at the beach. It always looks so painful and I wonder how they can look so calm about it. To make things worse, Daylight Saving extends the daylight hours to last until after 8.30pm (I would suggest Night Saving as a much better option!).

And now, February is turning tragic, with bushfires ravaging Victoria, destroying thousands of homes and lives. With 183 already confirmed dead and countless others injured, the toll is set to rise. Summertime in Australia is what people look forward to through the winter months and what visitors appear to expect.
At least now, it's raining and back to 22 degrees - for a week or so, at least. I feel like I can breathe again.

A is for.....

I found this list somewhere in an old pile of photocopied material - pretty sure it's copied (and edited) from an old issue of 'Vague' magazine (published in the '80s in the UK). Here goes:

ART An increasingly inadequate substitute for sex
BLOOD BANK Is there any other kind?
THE BORN-AGAIN Twice too often
CIVILISATION The biosphere's skin disease
CLASS WAR The war to end all wars
COUNTER-CULTURE Less of more of the same
COUPLES Monogamy is monotony
CYNICISM Long since surpassed by events
DISEASE Very dangerous. A leading cause of doctors
ELECTIONS Dumbocracy in action
FAITH Fatal
FEMINISM Equality with men? A paltry ambition
FREE TIME Work the boss doesn't pay you for
FULL EMPLOYMENT A threat, not a promise
GOVERNMENT Guns don't kill. Politicians do
GURUS A good mantra is hard to find
HIPPIES Running on empty
JUDGES Doddering despots in clown suits
LAW Crime without punishment
LAWYERS Life-support systems for mouths
THE LEFT Left behind
LEISURE Paying and playing are mutually exclusive
LIBERALS Conservatives with guilty consciences
LIBERTARIANISM All the freedom that money can buy
LIFE AFTER DEATH Why wait?
MARXISM The highest stage of capitalism
MASOCHISM Like taking your work home with you
MYSTICS Have incommunicable insights they won't shut up about
NECROPHILIA A social disease
NIHILISTS Going beyond good and evil, they stopped half-way
PLEASURE Interludes that accentuate pain
POLICE Terrorists with the right credentials
POLITICS Like a pond, the scum rise to the top
PREJUDICE Folk sociology
PROPERTY Is theft and theft is proper
PUNKS Hippies with amnesia
RADIO EVANGELISTS Less aural sects, more oral sex
RELATIONSHIPS Being alone together
RELIGION Deifying your defects
THE RIGHT Wrong
THE 'SCENE' How to be different like everybody else
SEX An increasingly inadequate substitute for masturbation
SOCIALISTS Sheep in wolves' clothing
TEACHERS Outclassed

Rethinking the Rational

Note:
BTW, I take back any previous suggestion that to be 'rational' is a desirable human trait. My mind isn't quite made up on that one.
I talk such a lot of shit.

Dust

'I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece. I would like to melt in the world and for the world to melt..in me..'
- e.m. cioran -

How Could I...

I tried to look at that Zev performance again and couldn't believe I'd originally liked it. On this viewing, it just seemed pretentious and dull. Would've been best as some kind of background installation. Very low-impact and tired. Almost bored.
But then, maybe that was the point.

Performance by Zev

I've always enjoyed Zev's music (both recordings and performance) and performance/installation art. As far back as the 1980s (and probably earlier), he has consistently delivered innovative, challenging and relevant work.

Click this link to view a performance that took place in New York yesterday.

Painting by Kukula

Sensible

WHERE ARE THE SENSIBLE PEOPLE?
WHAT ABOUT A RATIONAL, AGENDA-FREE, RESPONSIBLE, COMPASSIONATE POINT OF VIEW for a change?
instead of celebrities, politicians and stars
doing all the talking
I WANT TO SEE IT ON THE NEWS NOW

'After The Fire' - painting by Audrey Kawasaki

- The Art of Audrey Kawasaki -

Keeping Music Evil - The Brian Jonestown Massacre at The Factory (Thurs 28th Aug)

Anything could’ve happened at this gig - or not happened. Newcomers to the band may be forgiven for focusing on front man/songwriter Anton Newcombe’s reputation as a kind of unhinged, drug-addled genius - especially those who arrived at the music via Ondi Timoner’s (albeit fascinating) 2004 documentary DIG - or dismiss him as a mimic. Whatever way you figure it, one thing's for sure. This is sublimely cool music.
In a career spanning back to around 1990, the band has accrued an impressively large catalogue of releases, featuring a sound that suggests '60s and '70s psychedelia. Think early Stones, The Who, The Byrds and, at times, even The Velvet Underground, Pink Floyd and David Bowie. But the sound is their own and, despite any points of reference, sounds fresh and relevant now as I'm sure it will be in many years to come.

This was the first of two Sydney gigs and an all-ages one. It was Anton's birthday. The 7 band members played for over two hours, with Anton talking and free-associating between songs to the audience and introducing band members. At times, Anton even heckled. We sung 'Happy Birthday' and band members (though not all of them) became progressively wasted, as they passed a bottle of something hard-looking between each other during these breaks. In a recent interview, Anton said that they just like to get drunk and see what happens. I really appreciate that from a music group - the creative, in-the-now approach to playing live (however achieved) - rather than just delivering a perfect set every time - introducing that level of chaos and uncertainty. They seemed to focus on playing their all-out epic, killer songs, including personal favourites from the several BJM cds I own. Somehow, I was transported. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, which lasted for over two blissful hours. I felt like I was being cradled in the arms of long-lost soulmates - in heaven. As if I'd been reunited with my true family, after a lifetime of being alone. Apparently, I was dancing, but I was only aware of the music and of my friend standing close behind me as I kind of floated through the hours. And no, I wasn't intoxicated!

Wonderful playing, but it never lost its rawness and became slick. At times, it actually felt like it could just fall apart, like all the best rock 'n' roll music does. Tambourine man, Joel Gion, serves as a sort of anchor to the music - always beating perfect time and stoically cool in expression, but about midway through songs, I noticed his mouth would have worked its way to being slightly open, with a euphoric smile plastered over it.

A transcendent experience.


Photo credits: Lori Baily

Green

Getting up the other day, things just didn't feel right - a continuous high-pitched drone clearly audible over the other typical sounds of another daily bread day grinding along. Disturbing dream images lingered. Things seemed out of sorts in the kitchen somehow and outside my living room window too, where I caught a flash of something green, somewhere around the building entrance on the opposite side of the road. Walking over to the window, I looked out and saw a group of people in turtle costumes holding a banner - with the words 'Don't Say Ta Ta To Turtles' boldly emblazoned on it (with 'Greenpeace' logo underneath) - facing the street (and my window) for a photographer.
I guess it's not that strange really.
I guess you had to be there.

Yes, I Had A Wonderful Birthday, Thank You