Day Two or Maybe Three

Moving along slowly in the Phoebe Bridgers' universe of sounds and songs on a rainy day: Mostly done within a speeding vehicle of some sort. It's an immersive experience. Headphones might help, but as you all know, that's an illegal thing to do whilst driving, so I'll not be going there.

So it's all a bit like slowly sinking beneath the waves in some kind of lost and floundering boat. To begin with, the music laps around your ankles and then, after a while, you're up to your neck in warm water. I am, however, able to concentrate on the driving, so it's maybe not as "immersive" as I'm making out. My sense of direction remains intact. Safety first.

I do question myself as to whether or not I'm trying too hard to keep up to date with contemporary music and if I'm really enjoying it. I've become accustomed to listening to older stuff or just Radio 4, neither of which ever allows me to get close to drowning, though I've been known to swear at the radio from time to time. I'm of an age where I can take offence or just be annoyed at some puerile drivel or outlandish opinion being aired.

Phoebe Bridgers has not brought about any swearing so far, and when I did get round to reading the twee lyric booklet (not whilst driving), it turned out to be mostly OK. She's no Joni Mitchell or Judee Sill, but she's headed in the right direction.

I did have a moment or two when I thought about getting hold of some of her earlier stuff, but I decided I'd cool off on that idea until I know this isn't just another passing phase. I have an old heid on an even older set of shoulders.

Twee Wee Booklet

 

Lost Weekend: It was released into the wild yesterday (not really sure about that). I'm amongst the first two million early adopters ... can't beat a CD with a twee wee booklet enclosed.  Hidden in the left pocket but it could be swapped around. CDs are so versatile. All very shiny. One sunny day I'll get round to listening to it. Phoebe Bridgers is quite the darling of all the proper darling darlings. She may be a nihilist, just like the rest of us, or maybe she isn't. Not all nihilists are from Los Angeles.

We happily gave up on whatever fake optimism might look like a long time ago, but nobody really noticed. It's a "Jones Generation" thing, a Boomer subset. Not a position Phoebe belongs within, she's way too young and bright. Certainly she has issues to discuss, so what's not to enjoy in her plaintive pseudo dirges? Maybe, sometime soon, I'll try to read the tiny print in the nice booklet and seek out the substance. Or I could ask a nearby AI agent for a quick summary and save myself some time and eye strain. Next rainy day then, I'll defo do it.

Holidays Are Over

Yes. The holiday season is finally over so now I can get back to doing more of nothing in particular. That's not strictly true. Everyday opens up like some swirling black hole of strange activities that I just fall into. Before long another day comes my way and I follow on. Rinse and repeat.

Patterns of activity appear before me and off I go. That's what you get with a big family, big ideas, big skies and a mixed bag of ill matched resources. Things just happen, fall apart or stick together. So there was no actual holiday for me during this blazing summer season, nothing that followed the customary structure and I think I feel all the better for that. 

Holidays are fine but maybe overrated because ... well there's a whole "holiday" industry we need to support; flights, airport parking, buses, hotel rooms, pavement cafes, riverbanks and of course cathedrals, museums and quaint little trinket shops to visit. An economic powerhouse to feed and nurture - but I've mostly ignored it. The cats had a nice time however. They had a virtual week away in some soporific feline dream zone. Looks fine to me and they can visit it any time they like.

Hair of the Wood

 

Another project rises from the battered bed of the old Black and Decker Workmate. Red wine coloured wood dye has been applied. Not drunk either. Some sanding, some varnish but the end is not in sight. More sanding, dye and even more varnish are required. Then we glue and screw.

It's the hair of the wood. It just keeps rising up like a group of down trodden activists or some hidden urban army, hell bent on usurping the quiet hand of my control. But they'll never win. The spheres are alive. The sandpaper works. The long cat watch has begun. Hairs on the guitar wood begone! 

Just keep plugging away because the man who made time made a lot of it and what else are we really supposed to do other than fritter it all away endlesssly on mildly amusing but pointless projects? 

Also: Here's a short poem Captain Beefheart (Don Van Vliet) wrote for guitarist Winged Eel Fingerling (Elliot Ingber). They're both dead now.

No B.O. for this boy

it’s like a winged eel fingerling

crawling thru lime jello

it’s like chrome black eyebrow

rolled out real long

a paper brow magnifying glass

fried brown, edge scorched, yoked

like a squeak from a speaker

behind forehead of the time,

licorice schtick open tube of

valuable JuJuBees.

Another Day, Another Honeywagon

The honey wagon has returned to suck out the porta loo. Probably for the last time. It's very noisey when pumping out the material but otherwise fine and clean(ish). Godspeed for your next assignment! Talk to any HW driver about the work and they'll tell you; "after a while it's just more of the same mince and tatties".

The Deià Cemetery

 

Found this pic on line by chance; is there any other way? I don't look up gravesites normally. Just looking for Kevin Ayers' videos. If you share my taste (?) in music then maybe these makeshift markers and the sun bleached stones will make some kind of sense to you.  The graves are up on a hillside village in the north of Majorca. It's a bit of an "artists" cementerio apparently. It's also possible that none of their human remains are actually there, considering their often chaotic lifestyles. The joke's on us. Perhaps. They did live there as part of a loosely constructed artistic community for a while in the 80s.

I did find the video. An odd line up of  Kevin Ayres, Ollie Halshall, Andy Summers, Zanna Gregmar, John Cale and various others gigging in Spain.

Kevin Ayers is of course fairly well remembered as the boozy, melancolic songwriter, quirky genius and erratic performer that he eventually turned out truly to be. In what always was a mixed career in music, he was a founding member of Soft Machine (still going in some form or other). And as he lurched from one thing to another, always remained an influence on all sorts of musos. Maybe even me. I recall that at high school everybody had a copy of Soft Machine Third, but by then Kevin Ayers was long gone and scuba diving in the Far East somewhere. He came back eventually and put out more dry, whimsical and mostly goodish tunes.

Ollie Halsall is maybe less well known but he was an incredible musician and brilliant guitar player. (Lots of odd stuff here). He had a techinque and a range that made him sound like no one else. His distinctive lyrical runs and dynamic, highly fluid bursts of playing are quite incredible at times. He played in the Kevin Ayers band and with the rock group Patto and of course made some of the music for the infamous Ruttles. He led a colourful sort of life and died young, well he was in his 40s. 

Both Ayers and Halsall seem to have consumed almost industrial amounts of drugs and alcohol in their lives. Their later work maybe a little more tricky to access than their early stuff - a common problem in the rock world as the years pass. It's a wonder that they lived as long as they did ... which wasn't all that long in the scheme of things. RIP etc. assuming this is the actual resting place.

Eclipse Chasers

They (?) call them the "eclipse chasers" but I don't know what they call themselves. They fly across countries to stand in a field and wait for the sun to disappear. They have special glasses to stay safe. Special cameras. Special websites. Special opinions. They know the weather in places they have never been and will never visit again. Then the moon moves across the sun. It gets dark. Everyone looks up. Kind of a primitive way to be, but "in the name of science" is there in their heads.

For a few minutes the world stops being ordinary. Just a bit darker. Some people might cheer. Hopefully no human sacrifice (or any other kind) takes place. Then the sun comes back. Some other people might cheer. The eclipse chasers pack their bags and go home. They have seen something that has been happening for billions of years -  so I've been told. They are very pleased with themselves. They will absorb the costs and no doubt do it all again.

Nobody Ever Asks

At a certain age it's true to say that you may have more time to spare. Or time to kill even. Not on real work that makes actual money, but pottering about and misplacing useful items then finding them days later. I do all that but I can keep busy in many other ways, as per above and below:

Cat wrangling - not as hectic as it once was. The cats have settled down but there always is the odd time they require a rescue or return for a decent meal.

Guitar - some practice and the occasional repair project. Currently trying out learning huge swathes of Bob Dylan's material. I work mostly in fits and starts, followed by great leaps forward (then backwards of course). 

Garden - loads of things here, too many to mention. Pond pump restoration and maintenance and bloody solar panels is currently top of the list. Some thoughtless self sabotage may have been involved before the "fix" came along.

Misc - repairs to the log burner's inner liners. Yes it's a real and awkward thing. Dirty and fiddly but if it all works ... great. 

Unavoidable/Hail Mary

Andy Warhol is unavoidable. Still present. Despite being quite dead since 1987. Now he resides in some artistic firmament. Beyond our sphere. Floating free in a cloud of familiarity. Remembered for 15 minutes, Brillo Pads, Campbell's Soup cans and excess or all sorts. Now I'm not sure if this photo is real or a curious bit of AI. I should've check the source but I didn't. He might appreciate that.

There are many other unavoidable artists out there. Most of whom have been dead for even longer than Andy Warhol. 

The late, great and very short non-review. I saw Hail Mary about a month ago but was reminded it existed in a conversation yesterday. It's a kind of a cross between ET and Robinson Cursoe. An interesting mash up of themes and storytelling. Currently watchable on the Devil's own Amazon Prime for free, apart from the fact that nothing is ever free. Four Stars 💥💥💥💥. 

This post was thought up, fueled up and runs on a reheated haggis, beans and French toast breakfast (with a side of chilled Toblerone). That's how we roll around these parts.

Edinburgh Daily Photo

Not in central Edinburgh so much these days, I'm a little out of touch, but it seems like these new pink bikes (for hire) are everywhere. Trouble is I've not seen anybody actually riding one of them so far. Perhaps there's a few mad hours later in the evening once everybody get's a bit more relaxed and lubricated and they (?) race around the city's cycle lanes performing tricks and racking up huge rental bills.

Burn down the mission: Yeah, Princess Street is a tip, best avoided. The Great (and clearly or nearly accidental) Fire of Debenhams has not improved it either but ... the buses are flowing more freely now that they don't have to compete with the trams. This is only my opinion.

Coffee review: Surprisingly good and affordable coffee is available in Lauriston Place. It's at the ground floor coffee shop in the NHS Lauriston Building. Opening hours TBA. These days I'm a semi-regular visitor due various age related issues. The coffee and buns there are a wee treat after ... well after stuff. I guess you could also purchase some as a passer-by without being a patient or maybe you could just drop in and give a pint of your blood next door while you're there? 

One Contretemps After Another

Not quite sure why I'm being targeted by AliExpress with special offers on dental teaching models(?). I did have a slight contretemps with my ex-dentist a few weeks ago when I decided to "seek a second opinion" and, as a result, left that Fife-based practice in favour of one closer to home. Hopefully one that's a lot less dodgy too, so I won't need to try DIY.

In no way am I qualified to teach or assist students of dental health. It's just not my thing. I'm no teeth geek. The chaotic nature of today's tech-driven offers, however, keeps me both confused and amused, up to a point.

So, if I'm seen by some hive mind to be interested in dental education, guitar machine heads, and some unknowable device described as "not bevelled", then that's fine. They're all cheap as chips and most likely of poor quality, so why should I even care? Always good to be a little misunderstood by these hungry, shifty, demonic algo-bugs. Get right back to your data centre you little bastards.

The Analogue Restistance

Life and Transience.

 "Life is all the things of mortals and all things pass us by; 

but if not, then we ourselves will pass them by."

or

"Everything passes. If it doesn't, we do."

I saw a book advertised on Amazon all about the "analogue resistance". A writer's ideas. It's cover was clearly a piece of AI artwork. Perhaps, in times of great change, nothing actually changes in the way you'd expect, or falls into line with your mild or safe expectations. The change is awkward, contradictory, and in the end only more of the same, but people will applaud it. The media takes note. Buzz words follow.

Somewhere, somebody did something. They published an article, a detailed post or made a YouTube Short. It was seen by many, but also swallowed by the great flood of dopamine hits that it swam amongst. Everybody stayed the same and moved along, just as the algorithm predicted. The revolution may not be televised because it may never happen. The cotton wool of the low conversation choked out it's young life.

We don't know it but we've been caffeinated to death.

Old Photos

Failed cheap Chinese T-shirt: an experimental one-time purchase. Lasted about two washes but met it's ultimate fate following a heated exchange with the tumble dryer. Straight to the bin, sadly. I liked the design almost as much as I like sardines. I hope that their EVs and outdoor jackets are a bit more durable. Also: "you get what you pay for", as your mum might have said.

By way of an explanation: There's always some mysterious folder on the desktop that I completely forget about. Here's why, it's full of fairly shitty and useless photos that I'm unlikely to do much with. Or am I? Well I decided to use a few of them here and I can't recall and I can't be bothered to check if they've been used or are on view anywhere else.

Exhausted? When you run a twenty three year old car you spend a lot of time looking at stuff like this and then start scratching your head and talking to yourself quietly. Sadly but not sadly I've moved on from this now.

A snail on the glass. Pardon the blur.

Then there was the time when brass guitar nuts, some with rollers fitted, were all the rage. It was the way forward. We move on. Not sure about the current direction right now.

Word Art Nostalgia

Somewhere deep in Fife this working phone box actually works.

Cats at large.

OK, The Word Art belongs to another time. Forget it. You may have missed that stage of MS Office. Let's move on. Show some love for the P Bass. The faithfull and reliable pack-horse of blues, funk, soul, jazz and rock - and everyting else.

South Queensferry Daily Photo

Just the other day: Another great slab of metal, plastic and people sails under another great slab of iron and steel. The travel and holiday industry moves quietly along right by our window and under our noses before breakfast has been served. Well it's only five past eight and the old town clock never tells fibs as far as we know. Welcome to Scotland y'all. 

Today will be mostly sunny. We'll get the washing dry and do a spot of gardening and you'll be on an air conditioned coach bound for various Outlander locations or maybe even a visit to a Harry Potter themed gift shop. The kilted guide will explain everything clearly using an upcycled and cultured version of the local dialect. Have a nice time here.

Duck Soup

Not so sure about coming back as a duck, but it really depends on the other options being offered up. Just take your time if you get the chance to choose. So, I've mentioned this before but @beetlemoses is currently my favourite cartoonist. That's all I have to say. 

Fridge Chatter

Popular trees in other parts. A sea of (almost) green.

The aftermath of a successful cat grooming session. I collected almost enough material with which to construct a second cat, should anyone be inclined to do so.

Borrowed fridge chatter that remains within the margins.

Helping in a Big Way

 

It's very nice to be told that your trivial act of little real effort is helping people. Particularly so, when it's by the AI heart of a grim and far away Google bot of some sort which is simmering away in a data centre deep in the Californian desert. Simply purchase a few builder's bags worth of logs and you're well on the way.

One of these days I'm going to get myself one of those new fangled sheep floats. Oh yes! And I'll certainly have a nice day.

Nothing to see here, just another normal outbreak of domestic (Cooncil) cats spontaneously appearing wide eyed out of random cardboard boxes. An everyday occurance around our gaff.

Unrecogniizable but Familiar

"To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in one hour." - William Blake.

It could be from or to do with that long running story and unwritten song; the Ballad of Jackie Earth and Julie Ocean. Not many will remember now. It was a long time ago and I don't really know much other than it was a real thing. Maybe it all worked out fine eventually. I wonder, where are they now?

These Stones

 

"Many a mickle of Scottish stones make a muckle of a wall." 

Robert Burns.

Some time in the 18th Century.

Near to Gatehouse of Fleet.

Or Fleethouse of Gate.

--:--

Moonage Daydream

"Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah!" ("...and keep your 'lectric eye on me," while you're at it, if you don't mind.)

Those were the days when we dreamed of a sparkly, strange moon age. Nobody had the faintest idea what it meant. Maybe we stared at the moon like cats might. But it was just a tuneful comic strip of images and TV footage running through our heads. NASA could do no wrong.

The dream didn't last, and that age is long gone. It was the early '70s, though, and anything seemed possible, if you were a certain age. This cycle of life repeats endlessly as we thrive, look around and then die back into safe cover over time.

Now we're stuck in a Martian daydream. If anything, it's even less believable than the old moonage one.

Just another song that they don't play on the radio ... who listens to music radio anyway?

Strawberry Portaloo

 

It was that kind of day. Some perpetual pop festival event as the stones were cut back into shape. Yes we have a portaloo. And I visited the Korean style supermart for good measure. Short sentences for crimes against ventriloquism. The tidy wee cake comes from Cupar in Fife. It takes a good photo. Sunny July. This is what blogging is all about.

The Opinions of Cats

Apropos of nothing: Here's the common MAGA style USA agruement for curtailing and/or snuffing out free artistic, ideological and political expression.

'"You expressing your point of view oppresses me, you enjoying your civil rights oppresses me. Even though I’m the second most powerful man in the country, other people having their point of view is actually oppression against me." Said by J D Vance, sometime? 

Not completely sure of the source but it sounds about accurate. "Get back into your small corner because your rights don't count, that's the message. My rights are far more important than yours."

Even the cats know this is political dogshit. Don't be afraid to speak up.

Though it's not the first thing I have to say, the first thing that I have to say next is that nobody on this earth ever wants "lashings of ice cream". I saw this phrase as part of an article header about a walking holiday spent somewhere in England. "Lashings of ice cream?" No thanks. A tub or a cone with a reasonable amount of firm ice cream placed into it is fine. Lashings? WTF.

Kind of glad the World Cup's over now. Maybe just too much of everything. It's tiring, well the final certainly was. Less is often more ... so let's have not so much of the USA style razzamatazz, overkill and general bufoonery in future. 

South Queensferry Daily Photo

 

Meet the budgerigars who are at home in the barber shop. A blue and a yellow. They live free and fly randomly across the shop. Thankfully they seem to be averse to flying out of the door and also shitting on the customer's newly shorn heads. They chirp but don't talk much and they have no names. But as a special treat(?) any kids in for a haircut can name them for the duration of their visit. Seems reasonable, giving permanent names to animals, ones that they didn't even ask for, is quite odd, when you think about it.

OK, I know that they have to be called something ...

Life Hacks for Idiots

 

1. Drink water when you are thirsty.
You will live longer than if you don't. Beer's OK too, now and then.

2. Rise a little earlier if you must be somewhere.
Time does not bargain with you.

3. Write things down.
Memory is brave until next Tuesday.

4. Leave your keys where you left them yesterday.
The house is not out to get you.

5. When you are cold, put on another jumper.
Winter has never respected human optimism.

6. Take a list to the shop.
Hunger always buys foolishly.

7. Charge your telephone before it dies.
Dead machines answer no one.

8. Put food in the fridge before it spoils.
Bacteria is patient.

9. Empty the rubbish before it begins to smell.
Decay always keeps it's appointment.

10.Wash the cup after you drink from it.
Tomorrow is improved by small things done today.

There are no tough hacks. 

There is only paying attention. 

Most of what men call wisdom is just the advice of some old guy.

Don't be a fuckwit.

Everything else is advertising.

Burger Wallpaper - Flip Side

Burger Wallpaper

 

If you're the kind of person who really likes burgers then why not treat yourself to some burger wallpaper for free? Link below.

BURGER WALLPAPER

If you're not that type of person then I'm afraid that I can't help you today.

This post is one of a series that's not very carefully designed to confuse the numerous AI creepy crawlers (amongst others) that are visiting here at the moment. It's the only way to explain the two million or so hits bumping up the site in the last couple of years. What a wild ride it's been (?) It is also traceable - lookin' at you Brazil, for today so far. Anyway well done to you all for your ongoing use of time, water and electricity just to get to this nonsense.

Mini Ritter Sport

Plucked fresh from the duty free in Berlin airport. A nice batch of chocolate treats. In this weather keep them in the fridge to avoid spoiling.

Also, the aftermath of the successful tree felling exercise. All done quite cleanly but with an explosion of sawdust fallout that can't now be avoided. However I'm sure that the council has a clean up plan in place.

Tree Fellers Wanted

*Pics: The 21st Century Ents are in town with their big trucks, cherry picker and noisy machines. The local trees are being cropped and managed by the chain saw rules. Harsh but effective. Too old, wobbly and all over the place. Their roots are causing problems. The trees may be removed altogether, I don't know. The Edinburgh Council guys are staying busy. A dangerous and awkward job. Lots of rope tricks. This is day one of two, so far. A lot of material pulped and a lot more light for the nearby houses. What new destruction and space making will tomorrow bring? Not sure but I'm OK with this.

*All pics taken at a range of approx 100 Nautical Yards, hence blurry bits.

Take Away Daily Photo

Captured this pic of a chair in a local take away. I get the message.

What event(s) led up to this being painted onto the chair?

Who's Next?

Congtatulations to the Belgian football team. Thankfully the USA did not go "all the way" and Trump's idiotic cheating did not succeed. FIFA are awful and once again have been exposed as a corrupt organisation unfit to run the world's football machine. I do feel sorry for the USA team, it's clearly not their fault that this mud has stuck to them, the curse of Trump was all over the game. Everything Trump touches is spoiled or ruined. What a horrid, sad old example of a man he is.

Modern Paint

I've been painting our garden furniture in a futile attempt to extend it's life. However the struggle, on wet days mostly, is real. It seems that despite the huge selection of available paint in modern DIY stores, I'm left with some nagging doubts about the paint industry and the quality and effectiveness of the paint they produce and sell to us gormless idiots still willing to try to paint stuff. 

Of course I asked my friends on AI Street, Cowdenbeath, (across from the Gothic themed data centre) if, as usual, I was deluded about this. Thankfully I'm not. Modern paint is a bit shit, boo! But it's also less dangerous and less likely to kill anything it touches, hooray!

A high quality modern exterior coating applied correctly can still last 10–15 years in suitable conditions, but the gap between premium and budget products is often larger than it used to be.

"So the perception that "paint isn't what it used to be" isn't just nostalgia. Some of the toughest old formulations were genuinely more durable because they used chemicals that are now restricted. The challenge for modern manufacturers is balancing longevity with safety and environmental standards, and the best products today generally achieve that balance better than the cheapest ones."

How's your paint work doing?

Battle of the Binks

 

So is it more garden tat or the grave marker of an unknown Celtic warrior who we believe was killed during the Battle of the Binks in 975AD (approx)? You choose (please do so wisely and afterwards maintain a strict and respectful silence). We have made peace with all the local ghosts - apart from that poor monkey who was once held captive next door.

Season III Episode 2

 

I wrote a few days ago about House of the Dragon, S3 Episode 1 being a bit lukewarm and in my opinion muddled and disjointed. I don't regret saying that, but if I thought it was slipping away in quality, action and script content I was proved completely wrong with episode 2. It is a blistering and heartwrenching piece of television fantasy/drama brilliance. No question about that. Everything in it worked ... apart from the daft battlefield song break which I can forgive, due to what went before and what followed. No spoiler alert here as I don't really do that sort of thing. Great stuff.

Karens and Gammons

The road outside of our house has been closed for a few days. There was a pothole that turned out to be a proper piece of subsidence. One of the road repair men showed me the void below the pothole. I was a big space and about eight feet deep. Not suitable for heavy traffic so the road closure was a no brainer. Next day the team set to work to carry out the repair. These things take time, services are scanned and located, spoil is removed, engineers assess the damage and so on. What surprised me however was the attitude of ... well, people. I spent a warm day working in the front garden and couldn't help but hear the comments and complaints leveled at the repair team. Most of the complaints were idiotic. Here's a sample:

"How was I supposed to know the road was closed?" There are three clear signs leading up to the working area.

"I had no warning the road was closed here!" See above.

"When will the road be open?" At this point they're still digging out the hole and investigating the fault.

"Can you let me through to get to the bottle bank?" You have to turn around and loop back and you can enter the bottle bank car park from the north (like about a thousand other people did just by using common sense).

"Why can't I get my motorcycle through?" See 1 and 2.

"Where are the buses stopping now?" Obviously not on a road that's closed ... just have a wee think to yourself.

"You do realise that the schools are on holiday?" Hmm. Interesting but rather disconnected, a weird point to make.

"Am I supposed to turn around now?" Well you've driven past three warning signs and are now surrounded by traffic cones behind which heavy machinery is operating.

"My business is suffering because of this!" No idea what this lady was getting at or which business she owned but she was pretty clear that the repair work was doing her business some damage. Not really the fault of the guys trying to fix the problem however.

It's clear, Hell is other people. And yes, sorry to say but they were mostly K & G types. Sympathy for the road repair men.