Non-relic SG

I've never really been a fan of Gibson SGs but this one, a 1971 (SG Deluxe) model, has lived a life and in all it's battered, road worn finery still looks the business. When I think of the faked up relic style guitars out there, there really is no comparison with the surviving original models. Trouble is it's priced at (all things considered it's reasonable I suppose) £2249. Not the right guitar for me but if you're interested you can get more details here. This old campaigner has been up for sale in a shop a few miles from here for a while, so who knows? It comes with a suitably beat up hard case and just needs a good home.

Deja Vu all over again

Some of these people were here and there and involved, others are missing.

Far away in time: Late in the day I know but I was just thinking about CSNY's Deja Vu being 50 years old, turns out that it's actually 51 or so. I missed out on the party as usual. I was humming a bit of "Country Girl" thoughtlessly whilst stirring my morning coffee the other day. It came flooding back like a slow mudslide, that's how it goes, the lyrics came later like some missed phone call. Tempus fugit I guess. 

I saw that there was some special rip off box set to exploit the anniversary, aimed at the "collectors". Outtakes and curios, happy photographs and things only for true fans. A position I could never hold on to due to my life long chronic ambivalence.

I imagine some people of my generation, until CSNY named that album, had no idea what deja vu meant even though they'd felt it a few times. That was me.  Suddenly it existed as some common experience, now there was now even a song that kind of tried to describe such an abstract concept. 

I still like the music, the feel and the album's images, they cut it well. It's simple really, I'm old enough now to have been there and here before, but I was pretty young and dumb at the time.

Flats & Hookland

 

Sometimes you hear the people above moving about, appliances making sounds and vibrations. Outside vehicles pull up in the middle on the night and workmen being excavation work. A dog barks. There's the smell of cookery in the air. Footsteps. Traffic noise creeps in through open windows. Streetlights. The sounds and effects of weather. The hot water boiler. TV reception. The postman's footsteps and the people who clean the stairway and common areas. Flat living. It's mostly OK.

One thing I've quickly realized is that, based on the use of communal rubbish and recycling bins around here, most people have no clue. Our area is reasonably civilized, in my opinion, but I can't help but notice that people just don't understand or care about recycling. They won't flatten out cardboard boxes, they don't wash out cans or containers, they think that you can recycle polystyrene, food waste appears in the recycling and so on. They are either ignorant, confused or careless to the point of not bothering at all. Unless everyone takes some responsibility and follows guidance (?) we're screwed.

Not quite sure what to make of Hookland yet ...

Hookland

@HooklandGuide

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2m

Curtains hiding Faery, dragging their hems in the dust of lanes. Gates to the Underneath and St. Martin’s Land edged in wildflowers on the sides of hills. To walk Hookland is to navigate the invisible and enfolding. To climb a stile is to risk disappearance.

Universal Amphetamines

 

The world of horticulture is rife with long and crazy names for everything. I never can remember the names of plants or flowers, pretty sure that these aren't Amphetamines either. Peat Worriers, Dingleberries or Beckhampstead's Glory, interesting but for me they form a barrier to deeper understanding. The other barrier being laziness. 

Weeds are tricky to identify too, seems a shame to pull them up when the bees and other buzzing, flying things are clearly enjoying the flowers or buds and they just look ... greenish with tinges of yellows. It's like taking away a kid's popcorn halfway through a gaming session. I need a plan.

The Devil Drives a Peugeot

 

Not the actual car or the actual Devil.

From our motoring correspondent: The Devil was sighted a few evenings ago, during the evening rush, heading out of Edinburgh, along Queensferry Road, travelling north towards the A90/M90. He was in a small black, sporty *Peugeot with no visible number plates. As you might expect he was moving quite quickly for the conditions, tail-gating, jumping lanes, being noisy and most likely on his phone, the pesky scamp. Has he not done enough damage to the world without inflicting himself on the already groaning and fractured Edinburgh transport system? Does the Council or DVLA know about this and are there any special measures being taken to apprehend him? 

*Apparently when the Devil was being allocated fleet vehicles by God he chose Peugeot over a range of BMWs, Audis and Mercedes cars. He knew full well that nothing empties a mechanic's workshop quicker than the sight of a sickly Peugeot coming in, steaming ominously due to a broken cooling system glistening with broken hoses writhing as if part of the snake pit in the Raiders of the Lost Ark. BMW was his second choice but that was by quite a wide margin.

Still Life with Oranges

Thinking of reincarnation, many people say that they'd like to come back as a cat. I can agree with that. The problem is you tend to think that if you do come back as a cat you'll have lifetime of human experience still hard wired into your soul that you can call upon to make the best of your feline status. I'm not sure that reincarnation works that way. 

Based on my extensive observations there's nothing to suggest that cats have the fainest idea that they might be ex-humans or that they might be able to benefit from skills and experiences gained in a previous human life. They're way too jumpy and affected by noise, sudden movements and surprises as well as being deliberate space invaders showing a complete lack of self awareness. They just don't get it. 

It seems to me that a big, secret part of the reincarnation process is wiping clean any previous memories, instincts and habits so that you, once occupying your new host body, don't give the game away. To do so would break some massive universal rule and screw up the whole process. That might result in the destruction of the fabric of time and space etc. Of course it may be that the direction of good karma and reincarnation is only one way; say cat to dog to horse etc. (like the food chain the "Old woman who swallowed a fly"), and we are at the top with our next jump simply being into oblivion.

On the other hand, cats being fussy buggers when it comes to food may also be something you might attribute to ex-human reincarnation allowing some measure of ongoing consciousness and memory. But I don't.

Memphis Tuning

Internal YouTube pressure forced me to try the Memphis tuning. I ordered the strings from the uncool Amazon basin mainly due to the pandemic and personal convenience. They actually took a week to arrive, direct from Memphis I like to imagine. In case you don't know the MT is just using thinner gauge, unwound strings (as from a twelve string) in the four lower string positions. 

The tuning is the usual E, A, D, G but up an octave. The idea is that, when played along with a regular tuned guitar the higher sounding MT guitar adds a pleasing top end to the overall sound. 

It's been extensively used over the years by various artists but not me. Played on it's own the tuning sounds ... interesting, might be tricky finding a good piece or song to use it on.

Sub Pop

Low: An American band that don't really reflect our music style, looks, genre* or core beliefs (I suspect), however I am recording my newly gained interest in them here for future reference. They are relatively young people, relative to us that is. Why do I even feel the need to  make slim and vague comparisons? That's just the kind of thing I do. Naturally they have a better and very minimal web site with merchandise. 

*Their genre may be termed "sub pop" or "slowcore", thanks for asking.

Of course Low could just be a version us in a parallel universe but that's unlikely based on my knowledge of how parallel universes work in practice. Another thought is that we may be a version of them in this universe but without the dungarees and the Mormon faith (things we've more recently tended to avoid).  What is it with Americans and dungarees? I suppose all that goes without saying and any semi-formed up duo indulging in music* could think of themselves this way in some wider form of existence: The Ting Tings, the White Stripes, Simon and Garfunkel, the Chuckle Brothers etc. To sum up I'm unsure as to how much actual control you can exercise over any alter-ego or suspected copy or virtual clone in or around the spheres of parallel existence. A slow moving research program is underway, almost.

*Other things/activities also apply.

Empty Shelves?

There are some empty grocery shelves out there, mostly missing once common or basic things. Perhaps there is a silent panic on. Thankfully I stumbled upon a shelf full of this stuff. If there is a conspiracy theory over us being starved out via a lack of tinned fish, fresh raspberries and paper towels then perhaps an unexpected discovery like this redresses some of the balance. Sorry about the sardines.

It doesn't mean that Brexit shortages aren't real and that the corrupt UK regime isn't shit and incompetent or that there is a personal god looking after the likes of me. No. It just means that some days a little ray of sunshine gets through the media's hypocritical and sustained gloomfest and lights up my day. In the meantime in the underground we continue to quietly resist (?) and maintain our flexible strategies.

Evolution of a kind

Autumn 2021: We've now evolved to be pretty good at mixing and making coffee and dispensing the hot liquid in streets and towns. The illustrious vendors also charge a fairly high price for it. We have however become shit at about everything else. The £5 artisan loaf is not so far away, indeed it may already have arrived but is outside of my limited orbit.

Aside from all that piffle I'm enjoying playing deep blue figures of eight in the key of noodles with this upcycled rig whilst alone in an empty house. My elemental "quack" tone on the neck pickup is the talk of the disco.

Here's a non-portable hand piano I made earlier:

Islands in the Stream

Fife Fix: The misty might of Inchkeith, fortified and for the most part forgotten, an island in the Firth of Forth as seen from Burntisland. The two sharp, dark reef tops to the east are unknown (by me) and unmarked on the map but clearly there. Shipping hazards you'd want to avoid if afloat. Just another small piece of local geography and helpful orientation. It's always nice if you can understand where you are and what you are close to.

If you're in the area you can get a nice lunch and some good coffee here.

Daily Devotions

"Every morning I read a few inspiring paragraphs from this and then I quietly go about my normal business of gently but firmly undermining and slowly dominating their so called civilized world. I have a simple strategy, I allow them to destroy themselves with their duplicity and greed, then I patiently await the sight of their putrid dead bodies floating by on the grey river's current. I may well cultivate my time into finding the funk in every situation. It also occurs to me most mornings that I am but a mere mortal. A simple but strangely satisfying fact that so far I am unable to change."

Life Experience

 

A quick observation: actually this is one of those bold statements that is both easy to say and decide that you will adhere to but is in actual fact very difficult to adhere to, in the real world. 

but

There's some truth within the content. Common life experiences tell us so.

Not quite sure if I approve of the brazen lack of capitalization and punctuation in that message either. Somebody trying to make a point I suppose and being economical with ink.

Also: Clipping and trimming the fur of a cat is a bit like trying to give a drunk Wookie a haircut. There will be blood.😕

The X Bus

Now a word or two from our resident motoring correspondent: Welcome to the near future. Vehicles are now simply household electrical appliances on the move. Charge them up and off they go. Dispose of them in an appropriate way when their working life is over. Same as it ever was, you may say.

By way of better news, in 2023 we may have the modular X Bus EV from Germany to drive around in. A basic shape that can be a van, a pickup, a camper or a passenger vehicle. It's not too big either but it's light, compact and adaptable. I want one now. Fuck your smooth and aerodynamic Teslas.

Lost Ghost

Happier times.

To whom it make concern. One of our ghosts has recently gone missing from our property. He answers to the name "Sir Patrick Spence" and has not been seen/encountered since midnight on Sept 1st. He's 5' 6", pale, indistinct, icy cold and speaks (mostly low groans but occasionally slipping into French) with a medieval broad Scottish accent. We are quite concerned for his welfare and general greyness. I'm afraid that he's not been chipped either, having declined to take part in the process due to it being, in his opinion, "the work of the very Devil himself".

Patrick will be somewhat baffled by wherever he currently finds himself and may appear confused and possibly slightly aggressive. Usually a few calming verses of holy scripture will settle him down accompanied some crushed fresh garlic, a dram or two of malt whisky and sprigs of StJohn's Wort, should you have any handy. Don't mess him about with exorcisms or holy water either, that seldom ends well. Feel free to redirect him in our direction simply by pointing Eastwards and telling him he needs to follow the "path of salvation" and not the spiral path of purgatory. 

The other household ghosts are all very worried about him as he is the captain of their Scrabble team (currently deservedly residing at the top of the local league) so things are a trifle fraught at the moment. Many thanks.

Metallica Bucketlist

It was all a crazy dream: "I don't have such a thing. I did not wish for it and it doesn't exist other than in some imaginary place - but I do like a bit of Metallica now and then. I wont be getting a tattoo or a T shirt either."  

Do you know that feeling you get when you awaken from a vivid dream and the memory of that dream triggers forgotten memories of other dreams that exist in a similar style or with similar themes and so there can be layers of dream experiences that you can suddenly recall because that first dream has triggered those other dream memories? Plus once recalled they seem quite intense and much more of the dream detail is suddenly apparent. I guess dreams never actually die, in any sense. They lead lives separate from their hosts or more likely "viewers". I should add that I've never experienced any of this as far as I can tell but how far can I tell?

Close to putting the heating on

The tiny control screen for the bathroom's underfloor heating, now in English having been translated from it's default Chinese - I actually read and followed the instructions. It's mostly understandable now though some mysteries remain. The Chinese App that goes with it has been rejected strangely enough by my Chinese phone: incompatible, perhaps even dangerous it said. Having said all that the floor is pleasantly warm.

Lost somewhere from the wilder world in bad translation: Freedom to speak inoffensively is not a freedom at all but a constraint. With any movement for radical change comes the certainty some people happy with the status quo will be outraged, so there is no such thing as free speech. All speech carries responsibilities. 'Free' speech does not mean official denunciation, but it does mean tolerating criticism, firm, passionate or otherwise - and on the other side, strangely enough, listening.

Daily Unicorn

I spotted this rather battered old unicorn in a library garden yesterday. I presume it's one of the Scottish varieties of unicorn, a heraldic trope driven down from the glens. Until recently I hadn't properly noticed the extent to which unicorns were part of Scottish heraldry. They are all over the place in stone, jewelry, seals and paintings. A fantasy animal for a fantasy country I suppose. I've been blind.

Fortunately we're not the only country to be as silly and screwed up as this. Many others (bigger, greater) have gone down a similar path, along with using dragons, griffins, giant worms and so on. What better a device than to have a mystical and non-existent animal to represent you as your beloved country's emblem? 

The unicorn also seems to be mentioned, in poor translations of the Bible and Quran, giving it some sort of religious significance and credibility. Why not just go for Micky Mouse or Smaug for a more contemporary update ?  I like history but one of things you quickly learn from it is that very many of the decision makers in the past were pretty batty or (to their credit) they may just had a strong sense of fun and irony and they've fooled us all.

P.S. Dear USA, are eagles real or mythical?

Internet Winners

I thought I saw this a few weeks ago on Twitter ... or did I?

Monday morning, the gas boiler is behaving badly. Roll on Tuesday.

When cat food upsets the cat.

"Scraping the bottom of the windows" was never a proper expression.

I hear the voices at the bus stop but cannot understand a word.

The weather has a mind of it's own, unlike most people. 

Prayer for the Indigenous Scots

Bringing down the lies of the corrupt monarchy system and the tyranny of colonial rule, one disfigured statue* at a time, according to the whispered voices of the ancient Inuit Scots tribes who are guiding our actions via spirit guides: 

Some say the Scots did pretty well out of the ruthlessness, cruelty and greed of the British Empire at it's height - well a few certainly did. Schools, concert halls, libraries and hospitals were built. Also plantations, palaces and prisons, and a few stray gunboats. There were new universities for the few, there were careers in the military, there was transportation and immigration to the colonies, token postings, all opportunities of a kind. The gallows being another option.

Bit by bit the highlands were cleared, the clans broken up, the state's religions and controls imposed on us, political voices were snuffed out, our culture and language was mocked and diluted and we just got on with accepting it. We allowed it all to happen and we all learned that we had to speak "properly", up to a point.

We became an industrial powerhouse, dark satanic shipyards, mills and mines. We manned up for the armed forces, we doffed our caps to the top hats of the establishment, we almost believed in the mantra of "God somehow saving the Kings and Queens" while stuck in abject poverty and blissful ignorance. We fought in Empirical wars so that other people could make fortunes whilst sipping gin in Singapore. There were lies, back stabbings, puritanical sexual censorship and weapons of mass indifference. 

They stole from us and the rest of the "Commonwealth" spreading the curse of a toxic Christianity mixed with a blessed ethnic cleansing, a bad education, fake economic dependency and real exploitation. They continue to deny that it ever happened that way (the annual GERS fiasco as an example). Nothing has changed. 

It's still the elite, the royalists and the Bullingdon Club and their like that rule and oppress, they have the power and the privilege and the access. Don't kid yourself as to how they regard you, your family and everything you have or do either. It's all considered to be available to them for an given purpose and ultimately expendable. They'd rather shag a dead pig's head than allow you the head-space to grow, govern and make your own mistakes. Simple.

By the way you don't have to be born Scots to be Scottish, it's more of a state of mind thing. You can easily self identify (as is becoming the custom these days) into the obscure Alba tribe of your choosing once you've completed a mildly painful ritual. More of a cerebral challenge than finding a uniform and a flag, you might say.

Also don't expect much in the way of assistance or clarity from the SNP, it's all too complicated and there are careers to build and lots of time to waste. There's too much going on right in the political fog of stupidity but there's bound to be a handy, glossy leaflet to explain the policies that are planned as well as a few cartoon YouTube ads. (As Sean Lock once said "at what point does a leaflet become a pamphlet?). 

I don't despair at all, I just blog this stuff instead.

*Image courtesy of Canada.