'Leave me alone, I don't have a tambourine'

Yep, ol' Wozzy boy got mugged by a Christian terrorist in a car park. Why not finish a pleasant conversation with 'goodbye' rather than 'I hope you convert to Christianity without upsetting your family'? To think that I gave 'regular' answers to her questions rather than what I would normally run with.

Listening to: Dom Chapman's debut album 'Unexploded Bombshell'. I could refer to this as the ultimate definition of 'blue-eyed soul', or tell you that in songwriting terms, this has shades of Cat Stevens, Bernie Taupin & Elton John (before Reg became a bitchy queen), but it's to miss the point. Yes there are influences, but this is very much the man's own life and music. He's a rarity today in that he can write, sing and actually reach out and say something to even the most jaded (like Marvin Gaye and his magnum opus 'What's Goin' On?'). Soul cleansing, soul brother. Give it a listen.

Go West

Interesting article in the latest Economist on Chinese tourism.

Quotes

'Do you believe in coincidences? I never noticed them before, but now I see them everywhere'

David Locke/David Robertson, played by Jack Nicholson in Antonioni's 'The Passenger' from 1975


'Hey lady, if you want to know what it's like to be free, then you need to spend the whole day in bed with me'

Roland Kirk's 'Volunteered Slavery'

Dribbly piss pot planet

Ignore the random post title. Friday afternoon life is a vapour trail. One more week left to D-Day. Out tonight to watch Antonioni's 'The Passenger' tonight at the NFT. Tomorrow was targeted to watch the documentary 'Workingman's Death', but will instead be spent in the company of MonkeyBoy and alcohol.

I have just realised that I will also miss 'Fahrenheit 451' next Sunday as I will be in landing in Seoul. So much for planning stuff in advance - I have veered towards one extreme.

Head hurts, mainly due to a lack of sleep this week, rather than the return of meningitis. I appreciate that I have to live with it, but I can't help but push it too far at times. After all, you can't change who you are - not in the fundamental sense anyway.

Big lump of shit of the day: Ennio Morricone will no longer be giving his talk at the NFT owing to a change in his travel schedule.

Random

One of yesterday's news items was that the EU have finally found a way to fund essential Palestinian services (healthcare and feed those most at risk) without going through the Hamas-led government (the EU & USA are boycotting the recently-elected Hamas Government and refusing to disburse aid funds through them until they renounce violence & recognise Israel).

It's a bit rich to suggest that the EU have only recently figured out a way to fund Palestinian services. It was a deliberate attempt to destabilise the Palestinian government - by ensuring that thousands of people were not paid for a few months, protests and riots started, making Hamas appear unpopular, as people were unable to pay for food and supplies of drugs in hospitals were running low.

But if limited aid goes through, bypassing the Hamas-led government, will it have destabilised it? Chances are that the Palestinian people will realise that they are a pawn in a chess game between Hamas, Fatah, Israel, the USA & EU. They deserve better than these five parties.

Preparing to: babysit tonight, watch the football and catch the 2nd part of 'China' on BBC2

Regretting: the fact I had a ticket to watch 'The World' at the NFT on Sunday and clean forgot about it

Thinking about: buying 'The Human Voice' by Anne Karpf and watching 'Mo and Me' at BAFTA tomorrow night

Yeah, I still write...

...sometimes. Here's something I salvaged from a notebook.

'Abra Cadaver'

…and then the blade snapped. I tentatively went in, fingers first. Initially the flesh resisted, then yielded, as if out of curiosity, before suckering me in, wrist-deep.

It was impossible to extricate the blade. As I edged towards success, I would make a last grasp, only for gravity to reciprocate and snatch the blade from my floundering tentacles.

As time slithered by, my desperation grew. I needed more working space, so I pulled open with both hands, inadvertently ripping him wide apart, exposing all under the bonnet. But that blade slid for shelter.

All told, it took me two hours with a bread knife, long-nosed pliers and a ladle before I secured that glistening remnant. Of course, he was a mess, like a deflated ‘what the fuck?’ – with various organs hanging out. Staggering back, he appeared as a car wreck, surrounded by discarded parts.

But I should have made sure he was dead first.

28th February, Seoul & 11th March 2006, Taipei

The World's best restaurant?

Only one way to find out whether the Fat Duck is numero uno. Try the tasting menu with the ultimate stomach, a true connoisseur - the iPod Perv.

I can see clearly now *

* apologies to everyone, as they won't get the private reference (apologies also to Johnny Nash)

In this morning's post I received the report on 'Publishing Opportunities for Black & Asian Poets' that the Arts Council of England commissioned through the organisation Spread the Word. Some of you (if anybody is reading this) may remember that about a year ago I prepared a submission to the Arts Council. I haven't yet read the report, but browsing through it disheartened me, formatted as it was like a glossy brochure with poems and a pathetic call to action at the rear. I fear that the Arse Council and Spread the Turd have failed to grasp a golden opportunity. I am not sure what annoys me more - the fact they stayed true to form, or the fact that it was confirmed to me in print through my letter box, which is a bit like (quoting old colleague Aris) having someone shit on my chest.

Listening to: Roland Kirk's 'Volunteered Slavery'. Not the cookin' version live from the Montreux Jazz Festival of '72, but one that starts with choral conviction - simmerin', but never burnin'. Also listening to Midlake's latest CD, 'The Trials of Van Occupanther' and 'The Life Acquatic Sessions' by Seu Jorge, which I first heard in March 2005 when in SF with 'D'.

Thinking about: pigeon sex (with eachother, not with me) & privacy, as well as pubic lice (has an animation student ever submitted a piece of animation about them?)

da good and de bad

Good day for:

• My fair lady of angiogram
• Poetry & prose, on it's way to several comps and things (thanks 'DB')
• Book collection (thanks to 'D' for 'Road Fever')
• Music collection (Psapp's CD is great, although their love of felines borders on the sinister - Candie Payne's pretty decent too
• Learning

Bad day for:

• Crystal meth
• Working on the website for 'Aziz'

Dum-Di-Dum

Have finished 'Pieces for the Left Hand' by J. Robert Lennon. It was okay. But I think I should still checkout his book 'Mailman'.

Thinking about: glass tables, and the last taboo (coffee & chocolate)

Great menu, strange patrons (no, really)

Nice long stroll with the Cistern Kid, followed by Sunday roast at the weirdy Surrey Cricketers in Windlesham.

Writing: 'Junior' ready for flash fiction comp, and 'Abra Cadaver' discovered in notebook and typed up for butt-wiping later.

Drinking: lassi (what else?)

Listening to: birds (or 'boids' if you're from New Jersey - sorry, that's 'Noo Joisey')

Slowhand Saturday

Didn't get to see 'Wattstax' at the NFT last night. Binned the ticket, watched the footie, and then watched JB nod off (when he wasn't trying valiantly to put his son to bed).

Got my two back copies of McSweeney' Quarterly Concern - issue 19 comes as a cigar box, and issue 17 comes as a pile of mail. Hoping for one issue to come as a steaming turd - but I think it (mostly) unlikely. In any case, there is always this (but you'll have to dig for the specific reference).

Working on: prose, after being given a shove by Da Bomb - I wrote a throwaway piece but I have been told its comp-ready. The subject is errr...offbeat, but I guess I better stick my name against it for a flash fiction (oh Satan, how I hate that term - why not call it 'scribble friction'?) comp.

Thinking about: the real reason that someone created the first glass table (to give you a clue, I give you the references of: the Kray Twins, a 'Cold Carl' & Chuck Berry).

Tatty Scatty

My straw hat no longer fits me. No, my head hasn't swollen. I haven't sprouted thick wavy hair - singalong with Woz 'Those were the days, my friend' (apologies to Mary Hopkins). In fact, as Kristof pointed out over lunch, my brain isn't likely to have grown (judging from zero change on the mental activity front).

Perhaps I shouldn't have left it on the rear shelf of the car, exposed to direct sunlight.

Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
Day in, day out,
repeat ad naseum
(remember to exhale)

Oops.

Alternative...

...Google business models.

Fahrenheit X

Everything around me is on fire, as if it were the final summer.

A Comment

'Yes, they're crooks. Religious crooks'

My father, on seeing various 'leaders' of the so-called 'Muslim community' of Britain on Channel 4 news tonight. Morally bereft, spiritually corrupt entities, very similar to the people who have hijacked Islam in Pakistan and other places - for their own ends.

Learn how to be an author!

The author J Robert Lennon has a very informative film on his website here.

I need to get a new dictaphone. I had a great idea in the car earlier and have forgotten it. Arse.

Policy Wonkitis #1

In the great tradition of arrogant, populist governments everywhere (regardless of your political stripe), I will occasionally present an unworkable, unrealistic government initiative. Today, it is crime reduction, specifically street muggings.

Just as muggers, post-crime, are able to spend the money in your purse/wallet, henceforth they will have to pay your debts, once they are in possession of your credit/debit cards, car keys (if not owned outright), house keys (mortgage) or mobile phone (monthly bill).

Of course, just as better fraud prevention doesn't just reduce crime, but exports it to a place with less security (e.g. chip & pin means credit card fraud will move to other continents, e.g. Africa, which ironically, can ill afford the crime or preventative measures), it remains to be seen whether members of the public will now pursue anyone looking vaguely like a mugger, trying to press or plant their debts about their person.

The Kabuki Kid

On Friday I managed to catch one of twelve performances given at Sadler's Wells by Ichikawa Ebizo. Previously, the closest I had come to the Kabuki art form was through cinema - Kon Ichikawa's 'An Actor's Revenge' or tangentially, through the opening scene of Kitano 'Beat' Takeshi's beautiful poem to never-ending love, 'Dolls'. But it was a struggle to stay awake for the first half as I had averaged 4 hours sleep per night for the previous three nights, thanks to the London conference - my presentation was in one of the final slots, and I then sat in on the panel session for a Q & A. Did I go 'off message'? Yes, in that I ad libbed - very bluntly - to get a couple of key points across to the audience. Funny response - some simply looked stunned, and several came up to me to shake my hand afterwards. For a split second, it was just like being back at The Chilli.

A hearty congrats to Mia for getting on that hypnotherapy course & a happy birthday to my eldest nephew Amir, who has turned 20. Gosh, I remember changing his nappies.

Image in memory: voluptuous redhead in Cafe Med on Friday evening, and the blonde waitress with a smile to die for at Stockpot in Soho yesterday. Dimples!

Listening to: £200 worth of CDs (Congotronics, Trojan reggae, Saoud Massi, Cat Stevens, Bonga, etc, etc), vinyl (orange - collectors platter) and DVD (Gil-Scott Heron & Astor Piazolla)