
Website overwhelmed apparently. Happiness can be pretty strange. Happiness can be addictive but what if they make it compulsory?
These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...

Irrelevant historical detail: As you can see the exploitation of religious icons is nothing new, as a fifteenth century T shirt vendor hawks Jesus designs by the side of the M4 near Windsor. She ran low on inventory when demand outstripped supply and shortly thereafter she was taken away and ritually sheep dipped - according to the artist's notes on the rear of the canvas.
On a strangely sunny April day we visited the Jeff Koons exhibition currently running in Edinburgh. The verdict? A bit disappointed with the depth and range of material on display, the steely caterpillar being the most striking piece with the millionaire shortbread and an espresso in the cafe coming in a close second. Art for art's sake, coffee for God's sake.

Due to an unexpected bout of spring fatigue and over indulgence in homemade soup and fudge (curse you fudge) the creative juices appear to be running low or at the very least are running at about £1.32 per litre therefore rendering them unaffordable. That's my excuse and I'm seriously considering sticking to it. The problem is that I never stick to anything (in creative terms) for too long. A lifetime of untreated span of attention problems are now coming home to roost albeit they are taking their time. That's due to their own inability to concentrate I suppose.
You may well recognise the woman represented here in colored wool. It seems that there is a lot of knitted art about these days unlike in the Renaissance when mostly oil paints, donkey urine, burnt umber, Biblical inspiration and fossilised cheese were used by the old and derelict masters. After that there was a complete descent into insanity followed by periods of war and depravity, this led to the ultra modern modernism and the rest is history. Nowadays artists get arrested just for being Chinese.
It's probably true to say that the best music is simple, at least simple in it's construction and the concepts it describes. The thing is that it is really difficult to write songs that work on a number of levels, pack a punch and describe and illustrate the basic issues that we humans grapple with. Songs that say something about common experiences and problems in a few short minutes and stick with the listener in a memorable way. Big Pink, after all these years still works, still communicates, still sounds good. I wish I knew why and how.According to songwriter Robbie Robertson, "The Weight" was inspired by the films of Luis Buñuel, about which Robertson once said:
(Buñuel) did so many films on the impossibility of sainthood. People trying to be good in Viridiana and Nazarin, people trying to do their thing. In ‘The Weight’ it’s the same thing. People like Buñuel would make films that had these religious connotations to them but it wasn’t necessarily a religious meaning. In Buñuel there were these people trying to be good and it’s impossible to be good. In "The Weight" it was this very simple thing. Someone says, "Listen, would you do me this favour? When you get there will you say 'hello' to somebody or will you give somebody this or will you pick up one of these for me? Oh? You’re going to Nazareth , that’s where the Martin guitar factory is. Do me a favour when you’re there." This is what it’s all about. So the guy goes and one thing leads to another and it’s like "Holy Shit, what’s this turned into? I’ve only come here to say 'hello' for somebody and I’ve got myself in this incredible predicament." It was very Buñuelish to me at the time.

Emily Deschanel and Zooey Deschanel are sisters (OK it's not a common name), am I the only person in the world who didn't know this? You can learn a lot about life, celebrity culture, sex and swearing on Twitter it appears. The dynamic trending statistics open and flow like a form of bizarre cyber beach combing. Strange, random, unrelated facts and opinions wash ashore like strands of DNA seaweed, some stay for days, some disappear in seconds, famous, infamous and trending and then gone away, swallowed into the vanishing clicks and pulses of some sparky oblivion. When the people speak everybody listens... but not for too long.
Meanwhile in Florida a tornado gathers and broods over the Space Centre, the end of the world will most likely follow shortly but at least we have a photo to remember.

Every so often I get a momentary twinge of nostalgia or an itch or something for those halcyon days when, for a brief moment in time I was both keeper and shepherd to a thriving colony of Sea Monkeys. They lived a modest life on a window sill in an office I once occupied, I kept them there in a kind of guilty secret kind of way.